Once when I was in America, I came across a sign that declared the area I was in to be a “Free Speech Exclusion Zone”.
I didn’t know what it meant, how could it be?
Today I read on the map, just near here, there is a Magnetic Anomaly Zone.
I didn’t know what it means, how could it be?
You can’t drive to the Magnetic Anomaly Zone, it is quite a hike. So it’s not that easy to drop in there to experiment. I wonder, If I took my Electro Magnetic Frequency (EMF) Microphones, would it detect anything? I don’t think so, but there is a chance, maybe.
I didn’t feel like a long hike today, but I thought about it a lot and in my mind it was fabulous, the electromagnetic frequencies being transmitted from there were creating beautiful tones through my EMF microphones. And in my imagined artwork, the magnetic frequencies from the Anomaly Zone, played their own composition, a composition that no-one could explain. A composition that exists only in my mind, a great thing to make occasionally. Artworks for your own imagined pleasure.
After spending the last few days and nights exploring and working with expansive landscapes, I decided to hone in my thinking much smaller today and spend my time exploring electronics, arduino, circuits and thinking of interactive interfaces. Daydreaming of a melting snow interface. A beating heart interface. A face interface.
After 12 hours of sitting at a table working in tiny electron space, it hit 8pm and I decided I had to go outside at least once today.
I travelled down to a place called the Nordic Bowl. I have been thinking about it since I arrived and I wanted to try casting projections across its valley. They worked well.
I spent a few hours understanding the location so I could make work there later, but my energy couldn’t really handle a long night of building content on site after such a long microscopic landscape day. So for my own amusement I used the sound that I recorded from the ski lift yesterday to trigger manipulations of the specimen collection items I have been projecting.
This sound, which I spoke about in yesterdays blog, is like a cry from the mountain, a cry in the face of climate change, screaming out in a frenzied tone. And so it seemed fitting to use it to manipulate images on one of the hills here.
Arriving back to my accommodation at midnight, I wonder how on earth, when I haven’t stopped since 8am, I have a sense that i didn’t do much today? I feel like that sometimes when I am undertaking a process like this. It’s because there’s so much to do and be inspired by and think about and take in and explore and experiment with. It’s hard to do it all at the same time.