Neither the other, nor myself.

I love this old wood sign. I love how wood weathers and endures.

I’ve just finished a piece titled Wood Ideas for a show at DK in March. It’s been nice to have a think, a look and a play with wood. And maybe I’ve been following through with some thoughts which have built up from last year.

“The resistance of the wood varies depending on the place where we drive in the nail: wood is not isotropic. Nor am I; I have my “exquisite points.” The map of these points is known to me alone, and it is according to them that I make my way…”

I’ve been making wooden pencils, matches and paddle-pop sticks, toilet rolls, wedges, books, notepads – and other things. Making a simple thing out of wood is a good activity indeed. I feel humble (wood). I’m not being too clever or getting too carried away with perfection. I am enough, and the objects are enough.

My whole studio is completely packed full of wood!

Wood Ideas (detail).

Add new post.

The reason I am updating is because I don’t want people to feel that I am neglecting this site! My heart’s in it. I’ve been away for a few weeks, to recuperate, to begin to deal with a relationship breakup, to rest. But now I’m back, back in the studio and beginning stuff for 2010. Twenty Ten! what a year, I haven’t had it yet and already I feel the gravity of it. I’m reading two books, which are of great interest to me right now: Italian Journey by Goethe and A lover’s Discourse by Roland Barthes. Fascinating. I could pretty much quote everything from Barthes and it would be relevant.

Let us begin again.

In Sydney and since I’ve been back I’ve taken many photos, more than I’ve taken in the whole last year. It’s helping me with distance and seeing – or thinking consciously about what I am seeing. Framing.

I think this is helping me, I don’t know how.

The other night I began reading a blurb on the back of book (yes, just a random book) which made me want to cry. Maybe that’s how fragile I am at the moment, I see my reflection in everything. The blurb had something to with travellers – and the sort of awkward people who are forced to be travellers (tourists?) in their own lives. I feel that right now. It has something to do with finding yourself in a new place and dealing with that. I’m dealing. It’s ongoing.

From Barthes

“I divine that the true site of originality and strength is neither the other nor myself, but our relation itself.”

Bits

I’ve tried to put the photos I have so far, into the documentation section (above). I’ll get some install shots soon and also pop up the video here as well.

Bookmarks 2009, bookmarks collected from library books, perspex, camping table

Here is the catalogue from my show:

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Invite.

Wire.

I’ve had to cut out the coffee lately, oh I miss it though. The studio has been cool in this unseasonal hotness (although apparently one must never attribute general weather events to climate change, one must be conservative even when one can see with one’s own eyes that the climate is going fucking haywire). The days just aren’t long enough. The pleasures are great! Draw out every moment, pleasure mending, cutting, and fashioning every bamboo stick gently stuck, interlocked. Grooves lovingly milled. Foil rolled into balls. Flickering lights noted and recorded. I operate in miniature while generally lamenting the giant global shit storm. I would never, ever claim to be interested in beauty. Who has time for beauty? Such a shit of a word. I’ve recently been thinking about a life long commitment to art. Step back? I’ve been thinking about how people in universities theorise about the social purpose of art. Why don’t they just reach out to people instead?

Time to update.

I don’t want to comment too much on this issue, but I feel a great sense of shame in relation to  Australia’s attitude to asylum seekers. I was in Super Savers a couple of days ago, when I heard the news item that a boat full of Sri Lankan people had sunk. It really made my stomach sink. It was followed up with weather, advertising and then a song by John Lennon. How strange and fucked up.

As for the government’s continual mistreatment of needy and displaced people, it makes me fucking sick. Grow some political courage, Australia.

Balls.

I love these little quantities of foil. This particular ball, I rolled using the foil from a block of chocolate. I also love chocolate.

Submissions:

Do you have a ball of foil lying around the house somewhere? Why don’t you send it to me?

All shapes and sizes welcome.

Send to:

Charlie Sofo

107 Helen St.

Northcote VIC 3070

Australia.

Foil is a precious material, lets treasure it together.