Brain Function

Your Brain's Pattern

Your mind is a firestorm - full of intensity and drama. Your thoughts may seem scattered to you most of the time... But they often seem strong and passionate to those around you. You are a natural influencer. The thoughts you share are very powerful and persuading.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

Paper Doll

This duo creates - with multiple notions; a multiplex of messages, transmitted simultaneously; multitudinous elements, including, jostling and melodious sound; coincident fabric; startling paint; superposed make-up... using enamored actors; winking models; fascinated and compliant audiences; noisy machines... This design of congruence - all aspects of theatre jumbled and sculpted into performance... Numerous continuities; countless values - worthiness, strength, utility, importance - frivolity as an estimable trait; innumerable calculations; uncountable diversions, untold degrees of intensity; several speculations about life, learning and paths of delight; mixed media, where mixing results in various projected plays of enormous proportions; divers proclamations that result in multifarious perceptions, which extol toleration and glory; manifold operations that combine expertise of their natural ability to invent and present. Truly, Paperdoll is a myriad of presentations, made generously, offered without expectation, a tribute to largess - simply, variations of complexities that reward us with the Paperdoll oeuvre.

Using the premise that their real and imagined experience is a resource, forming an inspired and fertile world where their impression can transform, they seek to develop an opinion that seriously but playfully dances through stability into invention, where envisaging becomes reality. The result is fabrication, imbued with archetypal concepts, which are chaotic, and as messy as reality; charged emotionally, somewhat humbling as the confidence from the colour and pageantry erupt with a maelstrom of activity - the centre of conception is spared to allow the participant, viewer, creator space to contemplate in awe.

Wakening

I imagine myself as an impression on a column, an inverse mold impressed into a cylinder. My arms are meager portions, traces from my shoulders. My face is pressed into the centre and the groin of my body is revealed in reverse. I am tall and erect as the pillar.

Tonight, I cannot sleep. For several nights I have been able to release myself to slumber at unusually early times. 9 pm or earlier. Too tired to think. Not wanting to dwell on anything, allowing sleep to resurrect thought.

Tonight, I am restless, dwelling on the past and future; 30 years ago... 30 years from now... The present intertwined by memory. This act of remembering and projecting awakens desire and despair. I conclude and discard, evaluate and rethink the day, the week, the year... Milestones of past events are clouds of memories. This recreates a humidity that is not discomforting but saturated with emotion that has been leisurely ignored for some time.

Tooth ache

For years I have been nursing the promise of a healed tooth. A dentist botched a filling, allowing a chip of the newly hardened material covering a back molar to catch every food particle pressing into the space between my two back teeth until floss broke the nuisance off. However, by this time, a cavity had developed between the crevice, and spread to the bone under my gum. I thought that the little bit of sharp protrusion of filling that finally disappeared would let me floss properly. How was I to know that all those days of insufficient flossing had corroded my tooth. I am devoted to my dental hygiene, and loosing a molar is disturbing. I will get the crumbling tooth pulled, but not without mourning its loss.

Locked

There are few days when I don't feel that I am under-utilizing my potential. I expect that the more I live the less I think that I have done enough. Days are not filled with the best use of time. This realization disturbs me. My 'day job' has only one redeeming factor - I am allowed a window into the intimacy of human frailty. I find this informs my art and I store these experiences in a memory vault, waiting for the release.

I especially have a great respect for the human demise, and I witness this process in a small way every week. I am especially moved by the change in colouration, physique modulations, the temperament alterations. People that face their death with courage or fear and all combinations in between are a source of inspiration. We all have this journey. From my artistic sensibility, I acknowledge that the visualization of these beings can bring universal truths to be experienced.

Many may not have the opportunity to face this presence where I can assimilate and relate these journeys for others. I am grateful... I believe a studio is near at hand to finally materialize the art that will result from these insights.

Backward to face front

10 years of re-directing my energy, taking a hiatus from my work has allowed me the insight and power to re-initiate my professional goals. Yes. I no longer look at the mirrored imaginings. I can face myself.

Sunnyside

Voyeuristic, I note that the sun shines today, yesterday, last week and in recent memory... a phenomenon in Vancouver.

I say voyeuristic because I have trapped myself into the cloister of my dwelling, working towards a goal, to 'proofread' assignments, not my own, while life and sun continue outside my blinded windows. I peer through the slats, allowing my eyes to enjoy glimpses of the phosphorous green of the glowing cedars, wishing I was a part of the life that encompasses sunshiny days.

Meanwhile I continue to labour over the thousands of pages, where anatomy meets physiology, wondering when my corporeal self will emerge into the daylight, thinking that by the time I finish, rains will permanently be my solace, my existence.

Sun, will you shine for me some day?