I took this sculpture (Portland Stone, 2019) and covered it in 120gsm paper, placed horizontal on a table. I took a pencil and started to draw lines by pulling the pencil down along the paper parallel to its longest top edge.

The pencil began to encounter the contours beneath it in an interesting way like a Deleuzian palpation of reality. I found myself making up rules as I went along

the lines must respond to the material beneath

the lines must respond to each other where no other influences were at work, that is they should run alongside the previous line

the force on the direction of the pencil must tend to the downward, or toward, in a sort of insistent pulling

when the pencil encounters an insurmountable object with the above force applied, it should be allowed to follow another path, but always with a tendency towards pulling downwards

when the pencil broke, which it often did, the line had to be continued from where it broke

when the pencil encountered an obstacle out of which no path could be found when all the above rules were applied then that was the end of that line

when the pencil is thrown out of an underlying influence it must return to the nearest previous line

and so on…

occasionally I would break the rules depending on my mood and attitude, just as  the pencil would behave differently depending on its sharpness or bluntness

A dance between intentionality and what lays beneath. All my stupid rules. My linearity.

Its already drawn. I just manifest it. Facilitate it. Over and over again. Each line a life. Of the surface. Materialising. What is controlling this? Who or what is doing the drawing?

Meanwhile next door in the basement a spider weaves its web

                                 

Transmitting Data, 2020