It's all in the head: The beauty of firing neutrons!
I was surfing aimlessly the other day and I came upon some pictures I would like to share with you all.
The head is a term used by seamen in reference to the restroom... And since we're all floating in this sea of consciousness I thought, why not?
These are not contrived moments of reality metered out in hi-def, sprinkled between thirty second spots of mind numbing wellbutrin and zoloft commercials, but of a reality unfiltered.
These are moments that disclose the content between private thought and public domain. Whether it lightens someones baggage or merely acknowledges an existence, it's ritual serves a purpose. I'm fascinated with the language, the memetic culture that inhabits these walls. Like Ansel Adams documenting landscapes, my muse has replaced the lone cactus with words and images in a psychological landscape.
The photographs connect people and places. The images are vivid. The words, textures and mostly available lighting create and seemingly reflect the mood of a generation. They work together, yet independently to present a documented, dramatic truth. A truth that I refer to as the malleable truth. What makes these photographs compelling is that the central focus is the content, how thought and emotion resonate from each photograph.
A few years ago I visited Stonehenge, an ancient, ritual site of the druids. To this day, Stonehenge's existence remains a mystery. For me, it's the manifestation of rite and culture. Although rich in history, what do we really know about the people, what they cared about or what they though?
Like the ancient Mayan sites at Chichen Itza, Uxmul and Cabal where the glyphs of image and language are etched into the stone, the words and emotions represented by these photographs is forever etched in my mind.
I've come to appreciate what the social-anthropological dynamic of ritual and culture have to offer the umbilical cord that connects us all to the understanding of who we are, what we love, believe and fear. It's these cerebral petroglyphs of ancestral conditioning that'll question the graffiti's existence as a product of our collective malaise or the process of our psychic healing. These photographs reveal the underbelly of human culture and capture an anonymous aspect of our world. A signpost of sorts with scattered scrawling, framed only by the borders of the mind.
Inspired by cerebral laxatives, mental colonics, or just the suppression of ten thousand years of ancestral conditioning, this stuff wills itself into existence, it's in our make-up and everyone has something to scrawl. From waxing on lifes absurdities to urinal scraps of wisdom. Truth is there is something to be said for the holistic healing of passing gas.
Thought it was about time I did something like this again.
Tim
xx
The head is a term used by seamen in reference to the restroom... And since we're all floating in this sea of consciousness I thought, why not?
These are not contrived moments of reality metered out in hi-def, sprinkled between thirty second spots of mind numbing wellbutrin and zoloft commercials, but of a reality unfiltered.
These are moments that disclose the content between private thought and public domain. Whether it lightens someones baggage or merely acknowledges an existence, it's ritual serves a purpose. I'm fascinated with the language, the memetic culture that inhabits these walls. Like Ansel Adams documenting landscapes, my muse has replaced the lone cactus with words and images in a psychological landscape.
The photographs connect people and places. The images are vivid. The words, textures and mostly available lighting create and seemingly reflect the mood of a generation. They work together, yet independently to present a documented, dramatic truth. A truth that I refer to as the malleable truth. What makes these photographs compelling is that the central focus is the content, how thought and emotion resonate from each photograph.
A few years ago I visited Stonehenge, an ancient, ritual site of the druids. To this day, Stonehenge's existence remains a mystery. For me, it's the manifestation of rite and culture. Although rich in history, what do we really know about the people, what they cared about or what they though?
Like the ancient Mayan sites at Chichen Itza, Uxmul and Cabal where the glyphs of image and language are etched into the stone, the words and emotions represented by these photographs is forever etched in my mind.
I've come to appreciate what the social-anthropological dynamic of ritual and culture have to offer the umbilical cord that connects us all to the understanding of who we are, what we love, believe and fear. It's these cerebral petroglyphs of ancestral conditioning that'll question the graffiti's existence as a product of our collective malaise or the process of our psychic healing. These photographs reveal the underbelly of human culture and capture an anonymous aspect of our world. A signpost of sorts with scattered scrawling, framed only by the borders of the mind.
Inspired by cerebral laxatives, mental colonics, or just the suppression of ten thousand years of ancestral conditioning, this stuff wills itself into existence, it's in our make-up and everyone has something to scrawl. From waxing on lifes absurdities to urinal scraps of wisdom. Truth is there is something to be said for the holistic healing of passing gas.
Thought it was about time I did something like this again.
Tim
xx