[ Grumble ]
8. The grumble starts…
8. The grumble starts…
17.December.2017
Head spinning
I want to know where this dizzying stress has come? What am
I fearful of?
I do not think
that I am afraid of the egg yolk falling off the monocle plate because it has happened so many times before And
I understand that this affects one part of the artwork
Even if it is not intended Maybe
I am afraid of not showing the work perfectly Each individual egg
yolk is different
and so they might not always fit perfectly on the
monocle plate
I cannot and do not want to control it
to be
perfect
I remember the first thought that I
had about this piece of work
That it is plain A simple idea of using an organic object
with colour
to fit within a plastic plate that
I had set up on the wall The starting point is so
simple that I even feel ashamed in speaking it
out loud
mouth becomes dry
But then the more I
gulp of saliva
spend time with this work
the more questions and concepts the work brings up and asks me
It seems like this work will never end
it keeps progressing day after day
asking a lot of questions
my body grows heavy
The more
I spend time with this work
the more questions I have with
it
I assess and respond to its materiality
I feel emotionally conflicted on
opening night...
I am extremely tense during the whole evening
My jaw clenched Body stiff Eyes alert
I have to watch out for
and
take care of the master
I set an alarm for every 30 minutes
to remind me to change the egg yolk On the one
hand
I feel relief as this helps me to escape from
socializing at the opening
but on the other
hand
I feel trapped as I simply can NOT spend time
having conversations with friends
I am not a subject
and this feeling
of contradiction
has also continued in my behaviour towards
changing the egg yolk
I
set myself as a medium for helping the work
I
change the egg yolk
I
am not here as a notable performer
I
secretly hope that no one will notice me
but the truth
is
the entire changing process proves interesting and is attended by a curious
audience
I walk through the audience
handling the egg yolk with care, palms clammy with
anticipation and
keeping the egg yolk away
from any potential
danger
Full concentration is required
a furrow appears in my brow
to protect the egg yolk in my hand
again
and again
I feel my cheeks redden from the awkward situation
Palpably
in touch with the audience
hairs on the back of my neck
prickle
I enjoy it when some of the
audience notice me and
others do not Over the course of the exhibition
I force myself to stay in the gallery to change the egg yolk during
opening hours This is where
I start this Grumble
sitting
in the gallery
writing Somehow
now
this is the only time that
I feel secure because
I have the responsibility of checking and changing the egg yolk
which is something
I can
do on my own
I do not need to bother others for help with this
but at the same time
another pressure arises from sitting in this space
which feels as if it exists out of time Hearing the gallery assistant
working on the phone
typing emails
body tenses
feet tap the floor
I strongly want to ignore visitors
as they walk around the gallery
head bowed
concentrating on the weight of my body
Or
a breath
I would personally rather become an object in this white cube
convincing myself again and again that
I am part of the work
I am only a medium a nobody
Nobody
I shrink myself into the sides of the seat
Hunch over
Turn my face away from the visitor
I whisper and mumble to the visitor, the gallery staff again and again
‘Please ignore me
I do not belong in this space You can’t see me
please just ignore me’
Head spinning
I want to know where this dizzying stress has come? What am
I fearful of?
I do not think
that I am afraid of the egg yolk falling off the monocle plate because it has happened so many times before And
I understand that this affects one part of the artwork
Even if it is not intended Maybe
I am afraid of not showing the work perfectly Each individual egg
yolk is different
and so they might not always fit perfectly on the
monocle plate
I cannot and do not want to control it
to be
perfect
I remember the first thought that I
had about this piece of work
That it is plain A simple idea of using an organic object
with colour
to fit within a plastic plate that
I had set up on the wall The starting point is so
simple that I even feel ashamed in speaking it
out loud
mouth becomes dry
But then the more I
gulp of saliva
spend time with this work
the more questions and concepts the work brings up and asks me
It seems like this work will never end
it keeps progressing day after day
asking a lot of questions
my body grows heavy
The more
I spend time with this work
the more questions I have with
it
I assess and respond to its materiality
I feel emotionally conflicted on
opening night...
I am extremely tense during the whole evening
My jaw clenched Body stiff Eyes alert
I have to watch out for
and
take care of the master
I set an alarm for every 30 minutes
to remind me to change the egg yolk On the one
hand
I feel relief as this helps me to escape from
socializing at the opening
but on the other
hand
I feel trapped as I simply can NOT spend time
having conversations with friends
I am not a subject
and this feeling
of contradiction
has also continued in my behaviour towards
changing the egg yolk
I
set myself as a medium for helping the work
I
change the egg yolk
I
am not here as a notable performer
I
secretly hope that no one will notice me
but the truth
is
the entire changing process proves interesting and is attended by a curious
audience
I walk through the audience
handling the egg yolk with care, palms clammy with
anticipation and
keeping the egg yolk away
from any potential
danger
Full concentration is required
a furrow appears in my brow
to protect the egg yolk in my hand
again
and again
I feel my cheeks redden from the awkward situation
Palpably
in touch with the audience
hairs on the back of my neck
prickle
I enjoy it when some of the
audience notice me and
others do not Over the course of the exhibition
I force myself to stay in the gallery to change the egg yolk during
opening hours This is where
I start this Grumble
sitting
in the gallery
writing Somehow
now
this is the only time that
I feel secure because
I have the responsibility of checking and changing the egg yolk
which is something
I can
do on my own
I do not need to bother others for help with this
but at the same time
another pressure arises from sitting in this space
which feels as if it exists out of time Hearing the gallery assistant
working on the phone
typing emails
body tenses
feet tap the floor
I strongly want to ignore visitors
as they walk around the gallery
head bowed
concentrating on the weight of my body
Or
a breath
I would personally rather become an object in this white cube
convincing myself again and again that
I am part of the work
I am only a medium a nobody
Nobody
I shrink myself into the sides of the seat
Hunch over
Turn my face away from the visitor
I whisper and mumble to the visitor, the gallery staff again and again
‘Please ignore me
I do not belong in this space You can’t see me
please just ignore me’
-Boxes of Eggs -