Copper, Beech

The edge of language and its ability to communicate. The point at which words are no longer sufficient; when that line is crossed where seemingly infinite combinations of letters and sounds produce a word so unfortunately limited. Only then Human can interact with its environment.

The objects, smells, and sounds all stand in a vacuum, as in a museum. Knowledge of them becomes a purely experiential exercise.

Human stares at an empty jar through museum glass. Traces of the jar's contents still line its rim. The curved glass smudged, translucent in the neon light that glares above. The curved glass, smooth and cool. The emotions of haste, hunger, and the consumer's absent-mindedness all flow to Human as it observes and senses. Sensory perception feeds not into logic, but a much wider and deeper pool of emotional intellect. One that is constantly muted by its shallow, automated, 'logical' counter-part.

Removing words from objects sets them free. The most mundane and ordinary of objects become vessels of passion, seeking their place in the uni-verse, emitting energy and communicating with a receptive Human and with every other object.

Watch the train station as it is stripped of all literal description. The vast, hollow space devoid of the purpose for which it was originally built, becomes a Godly, awe-some place. The tracks become mere terrain, or an idiosyncracy. The train car comes to life, its linear caverns no longer slaves to functionality. It too joins the spirit of the uni-verse.

Francis Bacon

Pope Innocent X (Study of Head)

Strong, wide, dark strokes of paint distort, overpower a grainy and meekly painted figure. Alarm is injected as the pale face is sucked into an abyss, the lavender providing an almost mocking contrast. Had the face been invisible, the figure would be nothing but composed, regal. The intricately painted mouth and its silent scream evoke a sense of decay, of terror.

Viva La Vida, or Death and all his Friends

Today I woke up and walked outside to crisp, frigid weather. The sun was out, but it was official- London’s perpetual season, autumn, had finally come. I walked through Foldgate Street, spilled into a busy Bishopsgate. As I marched towards Bank, my iPod filled my ears with Coldplay’s most recent album – Viva La Vida or Death and All his Friends. I always thought that was an anticlimactic title. Not very catch, is it (granted, Coldplay never really looked for that anyway)? Viva La Vida, long live life... Or Death and All His Friends…?

The moods in the songs swayed from sentimental melancholic, to feisty, to stoically exuberant. The album had become a very big part of my life recently. I have been listening to it practically every day since the beginning of September. I will admit, it’s a masterpiece. “Strawberry Swing” and “Lovers in Japan” go through my head even when my iPod is tucked away as I work.

Work. The stress and the hours. Inconceivable to me just 2 months ago, now it all holds a firm grip on my life. I know as the banks of Canary Wharf take a tumble and as the finance world goes to hell in a hand basket, I’m lucky to even have a job this good – but my carefree days of floating around London in the afternoons and the Continent in the weekends are gone.

The first few 2 or 3 weeks it really got to me. Seeing JS’s life – so advanced in his career he really has little to worry about, be it time off or ‘climbing the ladder’ – made things a little harder as I judged myself in his frame. It was and in many ways still is a harsh perspective.

Now as I sink into things more comfortably, and see all the blessings that are around me – a beautiful boyfriend, a great job, and a bright future – I am ready to go back to being my chirpy self. In control, sane, and always looking ahead.

After all, isn’t that what they meant when they thought of that name for the album? Choose life, or wither on the vine.