On the tail of a disruptive hardware failure that takes several weeks to recover from. It’s still in progress, and external communications, words, are in short supply — or perhaps the means to express them is temporarily lost, along with an accumulation of visual and sonic material, new and from the archive, to be cleared, sheesh. The digital archive increases in size with the localized ability to mine the analog one.
The need to be initially organized in order to undertake a project is something of a hurdle, but doesn’t seem to negatively affect the outcomes. Once work starts to flow and a work process begins to form, things get pretty messy at the same time as being productive. This is the armature provided by a familiar praxis.
The settled two months on Hawk Moon Ridge blazed by far too fast, as per other residencies and such, they become stops on a longer pilgrimage of nomadic working. Anyway. Whatever. Where ever. How ever. Why?