Organised Chaos

Two minutes counting down...

two minutes to draw, to dramatise, to deconstruct an object which has been put in front of you. Three representations required with a purpose of relationship, of juxtaposition and of imagination, a new construction shaping into a new entity created from your own subconscious. Thirty second's remain and you fail to recount where the first drawing came from, only where the third is going. Ten seconds and your pen is removed from the paper, you look as your fellow students gaze on your own imagination, a smell of fresh felt tip seeps through the air and you feel that self gratifying feeling of accomplishment;

ten seconds remained...not bad.

Yet, even in this existentialistic, blogging form, my subconscious influences in no way on my rambling. This fact is dew to my own creation and that of this particular blog;  using alliteration, a tricolon and over exaggerated semantic field's, I have describing a deeper meaning of a straight forward exercise. The true outcome is therefore one of timing, who can visualise the finished product before producing it. I can write about it after participating in it,  in a greater, more constructed way than I could after the two minutes had finished.   My timing is therefore slower, my own adaptation of the given object and situation acquires a greater length than the two minutes provided. My work simply became rushed, in this simplistic form, all contrast, all meaning became lost in the array of scribbles.

One could argue that this very process of 'letting go' is the primary objective, a piece of art speaking more to the individual interpreting it as they please.

Liberating by the non-restricting elements of a deeper imposed meaning.    

"When I am in my painting, I'm not aware of what I'm doing. It is only after a sort of 'get acquainted' period that I see what I have been about. I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through. It is only when I lose contact with the painting that the result is a mess. Otherwise there is pure harmony, an easy give and take, and the painting comes out well."

—Jackson Pollock, My Painting, 1956

On the surface, Pollock's words speak of a level of freed creativity, "fear" has been removed but in it's place a new entity has arrived, one entirely separate from the artist. Instead of a liberated figure painting freely, Pollock has become the slave of his own creation: " the painting has a life of its own."  This intern brings a level of organisation to his misinterpreted liberation, contemplating this, I decided to create a take on Pollock's ideology; that order prevails from chaos.