— Think of the I as interchangeable.
The term Idée fixe was first used to describe a pathological obsession with a single idea. A couple of centuries later, the original meaning of just about any concept, seems to become less precise. When something is used it tends to change its shape, and even words will adapt to their users.
In my painterly dictionary, the fix also refers to reparation or problem solving. Or just attaching something to something else. At times, elements can turn into more permanent fixtures. And this is one of the main issues with painting. When dry, it notoriously stays put. The fixed position stands in the way of communicating complex narratives. Maybe it is just not meant for that, but I always stubbornly try to work my way around it.
It can be hard work to remember things, but even harder to try to forget something once it is fixed inside of you. I have often explained that when I remember something, it is probably not exactly how it happened, but mostly how it felt the last time I thought about it. Even if something remains fixed it still moves.
For as long as anyone can recall, one of the problems with history has been how to deal with it. People will carry on either despite or because of their memories. While I write these lines, my phone reminds me, that memory is almost full. Action must be taken somehow. Being lazy about memory is surely a defence mechanism.
At times I manage to protect myself from the stimuli that always pulsate in my pocket. But soon after I will be hyper- informed again and start to compare the self to the other. I feel like comparison used to be with one’s peers, but in recent decades society turned into a sort of global never-ending- competitive-event. Statistics turn essentials into measurable currency. Hence, the economy of life revolves around BIG DATA, small data, and even medium DADA.
Observation and analysis will change the outcome of any given situation. Paradoxically. This is why my attempts to observe and grasp what is occurring – both over and under the allegorical table of decisions – are constantly frustrated. Cubism and its metaphysics have long lost their glow, replaced by new tables [of content] made from scratched glass or plain numbers
Sometimes I miss the quietness of still life painting. It all seems like a lot. The irony is that it is only useful to measure something if it is put in relation to something else. Otherwise, dimensions or amount cease to matter.
The idea is always painted, but I do not always paint ideas. It is just when it starts to confuse me that I can really engage. A while back I had this beautiful nightmare about leaving all the drawers open. I have been trying to fix that feeling ever since.
