because sometimes i fall over and forget to count the grass stalks.

” landscape is a way of seeing that has its own history ”

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I suppose sometimes to be only in the body

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one can escape the mind.

when there are moments when nothing quite seems to make sense.
landscape and power.

landscape is an exhausted. ( form)
landscape is ( not ) an exhausted medium

no longer a mode of artistic expression. perhaps fallen.

routine. testing. practice. exhaustion.

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can we see landscape not a form of art but as a medium?
a medium of exchange
between human and natural
The other and the self.

Landscape as a social hieroglyph
Landscape as perhaps our own commonality

yet I have no idea what you feel when the soil is between your fingers.

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we are surrounded by things we have not made.

landscape as ideology

landscape as method of power

landscape as escape from humanity

i want to count the grass stalks and not say one word.

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stressing the disjuncture between spectacle and their subjects
one cannot own ‘ place ‘
The affect is not yet clear.

System. abstraction/ order.

DIS ORDER

and then.

Chaos

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perhaps i run
to run away
perhaps i dance
to dance away

perhaps one should count each blade of grass
I like to talk to sheep.
I like to watch clouds.

I like not knowing where i will end up
but to keep going

i like exhausting myself.

even in dreams there has to be a quietness, the hearing nature is still alert.

“the waking have one world in common, sleepers have each a private world of his own.”

i like to hide behind trees
when no one will ever come

and imagine its hide and seek.

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this could be a conversation.

but we have sealed our mouths.

leave only footsteps.

.. to perhaps nothing at all.

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because sometimes i fall over and forget to count the grass stalks.

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~ by beatricejarvis on June 16, 2014.

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