Drawing, making anything, often seems impossible for me. The resources which I draw from aren’t quite suitable for creative practice; they contradict creativity, are a sort of crude material. I think that is why I’m a little stuck to my person and why the drawings get stuck to me. They are something I wish to see myself in, though they always end up frustrating that wish.
I dream quite often. I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about dreams. They are something I’m always excited to have, though, I am unsure whether my excitement for them is good or not. I think, at times, having dreams is like playing on my own, a play wherein I try to fascinate myself with some spectacular product or content; it’s insular, always exclusive, and ultimately very lonely. Dreaming is lonely. Playing is lonely. Drawing, too, is lonely. Over time, it all becomes impenetrable, a symptom. However, I do not think being impenetrable requires a correction, something or other to be forcibly considered for relation’s sake. No, perhaps someone just needs to watch, be curious, be unobtrusive.
“Samuel Beckett (along with Robbe Grillet and the nouveaux romanciers) was one of the primary influences on conceptual and minimalist art in the 1960s, modeling anti-symbolic and impersonal compositions of minimal statements in maximum elaboration. The famous “sucking stones” sequence from Molloy (New York: Grove, 1955) is an obsessive transcription of body movements and inanimate objects into mathematical logic. Although the first person singular I is invoked, it reveals nothing of the narrator’s subjectivity or emotion, nothing of the impact of the action on the human. Rather, the body is reduced to another cog in a machine.
The apparent purposelessness of such an activity underscores Beckett’s emphasis on formal linguistic sequence supplanting literature’s more traditional transparent delivery of pathos (though the sequence is still undoubtedly riddled with pathos, a testament to how hard it is to actually rid language of metaphor and emotion). Beckett’s passage opens up writing to the influence of formal mathematical theory as praxis, in hindsight putting to the test Ludwig Wittgenstein’s proposed language games as works of poetry.”
– Craig Dworkin and Kenneth Goldsmith, Against Expression: An Anthology of Conceptual Writing