In this piece I really just wanted to explore the concept of twigs. It’s twigs.

I mentioned Douglas Coupland in the post below. Well for thoise who haven’t met his work, he is a Canadian author who I first encountered when I had a beau who was quite a fan – I borrowed and read several. Writes a lot about office drones in the wacky IT start up silica valley world. Lots of takeaway coffees and bad Seinfeldesque white sneakers with jeans. Existential angst. Computer nerdism. Etc. When I was about to mention him I went to wiki to see if I had remembered and spelt his name right, as I realised I’d f’d up Eric Fromm’s name in previous post about my rose quartz and felt a bit bad about it later (interpretive spelling, I am quite a fan, and naturally talented in unique non-conventional word formings –aka can’t spell - but realise that it can lead to confusion) and while there discovered that he does visual art as welll as written stuff.

Check out his wacky artwork in the I like the Future and the Future Likes me Exhibition. I LOVE the hand chewed books and dollar bills made into wasp nests with twigs. Divine. Really I do – I am actually envious of the time he spent chewing up those bits of paper – it’s great self referential stuff, dethroning himself as famous author, the shredding of artiface and ediface, the transformation of human made pinnacles of achievement into something earthy and humble but equally as majestic, the rebirth. And its funny. As a fan of clever novelty and the absurd, I like an art piece which makes me laugh. And I can at the same time see that it’s maybe ridiculous and self-indulgent. Reminds me of this TFD cartoon.

So my question is “Can you love something sincerely and also think its ridiculous?”. I think you can. This is the beauty of paradoxical logic, as opposed to Aristotelean logic (see? I might not be able to spell your name Eric, but I am listening to what you’re saying). The thing is and isn’t at the same time and it makes perfect paradoxical sense.