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Apr 2 / Tiziana La Melia

The Blues

Back bends inside a model & beside a photograph.

Blue:

Sometimes it is easier to replace the answer with a thing or a colour. I feel blue. I feel like the model of a pyramid with its side pulled out. How do I feel? How do you make me feel? I’m open to negotiating what this space might mean, to movement. Weighed and pensive, is the title for Bojana Stancic’s exhibition – it is utilitarian, but also a descriptor, and evokes an answer to the question hi how are you?

Pyramid:

There was a picture on my bedroom wall when I was a child. A girl in the woods. A tiny house in the distance at the end of a path. Midway between the girl and the house a man carrying an axe. During the day it was beautiful. I pictured myself as the girl. The long wavy hair, a pink ribbon, the dress. But at night the second figure and the axe shifted the mood. The only way to console myself was to meditate on a glint on the gold plated picture frame.

Blue:

Reflecting space reflecting space. Reflection of a space within a space. Reflection of the space on top of glass. The room within a room. A room without walls. A room with a wall pulled out. Enter. Description eases the difficulty. Its sunny here. I’m squinting and my eyes are tired. A full moon. A moon that is a window to my soul. A window that is a pupil. Lisa Robertson’s recent chapbook Thinking Space published by the Organism for Poetic Research in New York describes the room as an aperture. This metaphor makes sense when thinking about Bojana. Still movement. A room that is a model. A room that emphasizes the ellipsis between the photograph and the object.

Pyramid:

But surprisingly it had some thing to do with movement. Or the simultaneity of it. I think about Diego Velázquez‘s Las Meninas; the mise-en-abyme; Matisse’s painting of a room within a room. Is it the red room? Lazy takes on new levels when even with the information at my fingertips I’ll linger outside the fact. And even when I sit here trying to evade my reflection, I see layers of reflection, the reflection of the sculpture across the model and myself on the screen at the same time as my torso and the laptop is reflected in the window behind me. My hands typing. A hang nail. The reflection off a brass button within the reflection. Reflection reflecting.

Blue:

( – I feel it my gut.
- Baby parasites. )

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