|
there are no walls surrounding my home studio. the space is defined by a thin plate of cor-ten steel on the floor and a pool of light in the darkness. the dimensions of the room that contains the darkness are immaterial, but it is large enough where i cannot see the container from my desk, from any point within the studio, even when my eyes have adjusted. within the space, i see my desk, my chair, my chaise, a table, piles of books, sheets of vellum, chipboard models, and beyond, darkness. architecture defined, but not by walls. not having a wall to put one's back against scares most. in fact, the quiet can scare most, too. my friends like noise and they blast hideous excuses for music at my studio at school. but i like pacing in my pool of light in silence, sometimes stopping to peer out for inspiration from the darkness. no one comes to visit me here, but sometimes, music, set to play on an algorithm too difficult to understand and convincing in its randomness, drifts through the dark to my pool of light, reminding (reassuring?) me that there is an out there out there.
|
