The Rebel (Biro)

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Day 99.

I sense the beginning of a new obsession coming on with this Artist.

You walk through a series of arches, so to speak, and then, presently, at the end of a corridor, a door opens and you see backward through time, and you feel the flow of time, and realize you are only part of a great nameless procession.

John Huston
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Play things. (Biro)

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Day 86.

Playing with my toys. Having fun with my treasured items of diversion. It is still there the need to pull them out lay them on the ground and examine and appreciate them for all the possibilities they hold.

I like sitting on the floor like a child. I prefer the floor to chairs and couches most times. Something about being closer to the earth, to  the source. It is the same instinct that has me inclined to be barefoot most of the time. A more natural state. I like the the oriental style of dining on cushions with low tables.

I enjoy making a mess and assembling curious objects together for fun and inspiration. My lounge is my play room. It has got order. The toys are mostly hidden but I know they’re there and within an arms dump of being spread out across the rug.

These sketches were inspired by my Woody Allen Box set. A well loved toy that I turn to time and again.

Study from film still. (Pencil)

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Day 64.

Masks and the theatre of being.

Do we wear masks for ourselves or for others? To shield or to project? To comfort ourselves or to ease the passage of our presence for those we meet? I am mystified by the idea. My face hides little and never has done.

I don’t understand the game. I am me,  you be you. What could be simpler?

If it is a game that is different. In a game I would expect to have a framework, points of entry, rules etc., known parameters. Like fencing. The game ends and the mask is removed.

But in daily human engagement the wearing of masks is confusing, disorienting and alienating.

Confusing as I don’t know why

Disorienting as I don’t know where I am

Alienating as I don’t know the what I am supposed to be.

I recall working in for a short period in a big high street retailer in London. After a few weeks I noticed my face falling into a forced mask like smile. It pained me to observe it happening as it did naturally. I knew it was time to get out.

My lair is my mask.

This drawing was done from a still of the Bergman film Persona.