docs

I remember the first time I saw a locksmith cut a key on the machine–one mechanism finely sensed out the contours of the original, while another connected arm cut through the raw blank key to produce an analogue.

Life can be exciting, but I think this blog isn't about that–there are these long pauses between things (the closest I’ve felt to being involved any political action has only lasted for a moment–and then the moment seems to have closed up). Maybe art offers an extended moment, an intensification of something; feelings, movements or whatever. But then again, this intensification is so much a part of technology and all the other things that litter a capitalist life.

Visual art might be be located in the ruins of old and new forms. When I say old I could mean yesterday or 65,000 years ago. Or maybe art is just *located* and the form doesn't matter. Or maybe.