#interuption

[gifs-of-puppets]

Muppets Tonight (1996-1998)

[laurarosser]

Arts Institute Show: Resonating Bodies

The intersect between humans and machines

Resonating Bodies explores the complexities of relationships between humans and machines. The exhibition responds to the fragility and uncertainty that we face in our increasingly digital and automated world. At a time when our sense of being is in a state of flux, the artists, Karen Abadie and Laura Rosser, lean into this unknown through the materiality of the machine. The interplay of human and nonhuman machine bodies are messy and challenged through the corporeality of the work. The machines resonate, clatter and converse in the space, through an entangling of analogue and low-fi technologies, celluloid, paper and ink. Each artist embraces the errors, slip-ups, scratches and ruptures that emerge through working with old, often broken, or malfunctioning technologies. The collective artworks pose questions around political, cultural and societal breaking down – which instead might be seen as a means to repair, renew, regenerate and refresh. The artists’ interdisciplinary practices challenge misconceptions of analogue machines as ‘obsolete’ or ‘outdated’ and reimagine human and nonhuman relationships in these precarious times.

Abadie’s practice explores what it is to be an embodied being in collaboration with the machine. The imagery presents apparently opposing embodied states that float and bounce around the exhibition space. The artwork offers a repositioning of these states with leaky messy boundaries as these materialities interweave, converse, entangle and collide. The celluloid film interacts with the heavy mass of the analogue machines, its tender surface becoming worn, scarred, scratched and even broken. The collision between human and nonhuman undeniably articulated by this apparent violence.

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Rosser’s practice draws on expanded understandings of error to reimagine our

relationships with machines, systems and online spaces. Working with her collection

of dot matrix printers and printed ephemera, she creates

text-based installations

that embrace error

live as potential for unforeseen creativity, signalling a move away

from conventions of logic and order. This work creates opportunity for diverse voices and new relations to emerge.

Her playful use of language and translation

disrupt – and interrupt – rational thought and digital structures; preferring the misadventurous and crooked path.

Image:

Flesh[wound] (2022) Karen Abadie. Photograph by Beccy Strong. [mis]Feeds # 3 (2022) Laura Rosser. Photograph by Dom Moore.

[quintonstorm]

Pardon The Interuption

[riat-tair]

these two would prefer to not be found but Tara always have a way to find them. Nion gets so mad XD Yay! I finally got this one DONE, my gosh taken way too long. I struggle alot with shading so this was the first piece I used the shading assist that CSP vr 2 had and I found it SUPER helpful. Especially the tree.. brain just refused to compute that. Characters are from my fantasy story, that I dubbed P.O.W for short. The early stages of Boku n Nion dating.

[karth03]

NEW PLOG POST UP! READ IT HEAR !

P.S there's new things coming for y'all this pride month!

[purgatorysprompts]

“Did you know...”

“Probably.”

[inkjam-moon]

how’s quarantine going for you?

it sucks balls. I am tired all the time and so immensely bored.

[offensiveloveletters]

Voices and ignorance

They. You. We. Us. Point? Check and mate! Shut up already. Let me do it by myself. Is that ok? Spotlight their? Life ruinee. Hahahahahahahahahaha! Ok... let me. Make sure these fools understand who this... what?! Oh geeze. This is hilarious. Well, I’m Jacquelyn as you know it and the real one. Like the one. I can’t believe I have to say it like this. I was born on the day and time I, Jacquelyn was born in the place of San Antonio texassssss. 😎 My parents of special edition me are my parents. Only to me. My birth chart is if not amazing just a normal persons birth chart. I scoured it. I even sat there and felt like a pig for scouring it as such. That’s all I want to learn about, I thought. That isn’t that bad is it? No one answered as par usual. I like using words as such and I’d ask my teacher if I was doing it the right way. Writing or what not. I’d sit and wait hopelessly devoted to be the best. Not to toss some unneeded salt in your direction. You’re not a slug. It if I called you one would you see the sweetly drawn slug with an beautiful reminder of your unique character? Or would you just think and grumble your dissatisfaction of me calling you a slug. I got off track quickly fully discussing what I would say and how I’d hope your digest it. Still your not superhuman?... well I’d simply say you’re not me. Oh well, right? The conversation would’ve still went smoothly and we would’ve became or remained great friends or aquaintences. That’s is just a tip of the iceberg of my thought process even with some pausing or dock using on what it is I’m doing. Even feeling... your curiosity and your thought. All things I found quite irritating but I cannot wall around in a cloak covering my face. Existence to be exact minus my spirit. Me. Myself and I are trying to pull me into what I find inappropriate to finish discussing what my brain would say on paper or your phone. Your computer screen would show parts of me to you. Same things that’s are offered despite how public it’s not displayed. You could put a discreet photo of a favorite band or item. Inanimate object to be exact. I like being exact. Especially as I have reached age 31. I’m feeling that curiousuty against. Your distrust makes me happy because I know your pain. That sentence makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t want a crown or power. Laziness and my strengths were just floating around before I made it real. I just want the world to be as we are. As it’s always been but with god. I don’t want to think about religion. I want... the tears of us that are here with me fill my being up. I wish I could help. What if your just my weak mind being gullible? What if you’re real and that danger I always feel or think of is happening. “But I call my mom and she’s fine” the only person I could get that close to. My thoughts jump back to those people I saw literally placed into my re of thinking. What this is will happen. Why do you even... I’m thinking of the flan in the fridge. My spouse wanted him cold. The ingredients made enough for two dishes of flan. We enjoyed the first. I was and still so proud of myself. Those characters has been harmed and it was the female. I want to disclose more information but my fear seems most righteous. For them I must obey. My I love you’d seems the same. I am right to love in his honor. It’s true love. Oh, hi Disney! My chest starts to breath and nearly heave with some type of way. A way that I will never find useful unless to make things as they are but worse. That fear and not even close to waiting for feeling and dread that someone wants me dead. It’s a joke really. That fucking dog. That fucking cursing you make me do. I always did it on my social accounts till I finally couldn’t anymore. I let it go cold like setting cement and when I broke free of it I was again reminded of myself. The me my self discipline molded despite the flaws. Pretty great. Still jealousy and it’s green sits and grows like an infection. Healing isn’t the the question. I’m an antidote but apparently I’m still being looked for. I was being looked for my brain inter