There are these old clay bodies in the other corner of the garden, behind the blackthorn. I have been wondering about them for years, imagining that someone will get them out and play with them on a workshop. Perhaps I should get them out myself.
I believe they form a nested dependency. A bunch of drainpipes. Comfortable. Like limbs long entangled. An old clay orgy fallen into repute or fallen asleep or fallen into weary abandon.
[I quickly recognise the clay of my Caucasian body in the clay of these pipes - I almost immediately see the same colours, the same blotchings and dapplings, though those are mainly the blotchings and dapplings on my parents' elderly hands. And I quickly hear 'feet of clay'. So, inevitably, the feet of clay spread upwards, becoming legs of clay; bellies of clay; arms and shoulders, cocks and lips of clay.]
I believe they form a nested dependency. A bunch of drainpipes. Comfortable. Like limbs long entangled. An old clay orgy fallen into repute or fallen asleep or fallen into weary abandon.
[I quickly recognise the clay of my Caucasian body in the clay of these pipes - I almost immediately see the same colours, the same blotchings and dapplings, though those are mainly the blotchings and dapplings on my parents' elderly hands. And I quickly hear 'feet of clay'. So, inevitably, the feet of clay spread upwards, becoming legs of clay; bellies of clay; arms and shoulders, cocks and lips of clay.]
Here, immediately, are two things:
1) My [shared, human] tendency to see others in terms of my human self; to anthropomorphise. So that pipes lying together become bodies lying together. Here. See? Thighs touching and not.quite.touching. A slight opening. A parting. Aparting.
1) My [shared, human] tendency to see others in terms of my human self; to anthropomorphise. So that pipes lying together become bodies lying together. Here. See? Thighs touching and not.quite.touching. A slight opening. A parting. Aparting.
And the other thing: 2) my [shared, human] tendency to see one thing as being like another thing. So that a pipe is like a leg and a carved log is like a toadstool is like a chinaman. [I'm sorry for the caricature word but it is the word for my caricature association.]
I can see how this tendency to see one thing as like another thing is the beginning of language and the beginning of imagination and the beginning of art. [This line I am drawing on the cave wall looks like a buffalo. I can use it to tell you that I am thinking about buffalo. I can draw a better buffalo. We can plan a buffalo hunt. Off we go...]
This seems like a more reflective session than recent ones. Because, if I come back to the original entanglement of pipes behind the blackthorn, my attention is immediately caught by form and function, rather than by what I am going to do. Function first:
The Functions of Pipes
Before I co-opted them for my project today... their job was to carry water underground. And certainly, if their job is the conveyancing of water, they are serving no useful purpose here. They are not connected. They may be touching but, for pipes, theirs is inappropriate touching. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single drainpipe must be in want of another. And another. And another. And so on.
As a result, an unemployed drainpipe (like this lot) has a surplus of channelling capacity, just as octopuses (like us) apparently have a kind of mental surplus. And it's that mental surplus, too much brain power normally not used, that leads us to daydream, write songs, puzzle over the architecture of the universe, plan genocides and think of unusual things to do with oranges, onions and clay pipes.
So what happens to a drain pipe when it is not serving as a drain pipe? What happens to its unused channelling capacity? Well, the pipe lies around in its blatant shapeliness until it catches my attention and I either dig a trench and reuse it as a drain or I exploit it for the aesthetic possibilities that it affords me.
As a result, an unemployed drainpipe (like this lot) has a surplus of channelling capacity, just as octopuses (like us) apparently have a kind of mental surplus. And it's that mental surplus, too much brain power normally not used, that leads us to daydream, write songs, puzzle over the architecture of the universe, plan genocides and think of unusual things to do with oranges, onions and clay pipes.
So what happens to a drain pipe when it is not serving as a drain pipe? What happens to its unused channelling capacity? Well, the pipe lies around in its blatant shapeliness until it catches my attention and I either dig a trench and reuse it as a drain or I exploit it for the aesthetic possibilities that it affords me.
The Shapes of Desire
Let's turn to form, shape and shapeliness [especially of a woman or part of her body... OED] .
These clay beasts seem to represent desire rather well:
These clay beasts seem to represent desire rather well:
Here is a yawning desire. This is the OH that gapes and desires, which I saw last time on my way to the beach. This is round desire (even though it is palpably not round - this was not the pipemaker's finest hour. This one must have only just squeaked through Quality Control).
Anyway. This is is round desire. This is desire that wants to receive. In this case, it wants to receive water. It wants to be filled full. It wants to be fulfilled. It wants to be flowed through. It wants to be in patient service. It wants to be a channel for something. It wants to be used. We often speak of our own desire like this - the desire to be of service to a god or an ideology or another human being or nature or whatever. It is a fluid, flowing desire. Here is round desire again:
Anyway. This is is round desire. This is desire that wants to receive. In this case, it wants to receive water. It wants to be filled full. It wants to be fulfilled. It wants to be flowed through. It wants to be in patient service. It wants to be a channel for something. It wants to be used. We often speak of our own desire like this - the desire to be of service to a god or an ideology or another human being or nature or whatever. It is a fluid, flowing desire. Here is round desire again:
Then, later, as I am balancing pipes and seeing what they invite, I realise that they invite a comparison with long desire. This is desire that points, reaches, stretches, thrusts, indicates. This is desire that says "look, over there". This is desire that asks enticingly: "could you cross that sea?" "could you reach that moon?" "could you climb that mountain, build that skyscraper, make that fortune?".
Here is long desire, indicative desire - the desire of the stalk, the craning neck, the index finger, the prick:
Here is long desire, indicative desire - the desire of the stalk, the craning neck, the index finger, the prick:
Of course, long desire and round desire can be complementary. It is the work of a moment to push long desire up into round desire:
Or round desire can be neatly slipped over long desire to create a combination. Here is long, round desire, largely in horizontal mode, but with a slight upward turn (like ivy?):
And here is long, round desire again, stalk sustaining pipe, pipe channelling stalk, but this time with more of an upward thrust:
What interests me, as pipes fall, shattering my slight hopes, confirming my disappointment, my recognition of a fruitless morning where I have broken the resource afforded me, is this...
First, desire ended, desire fallen, desire forlorn, desire verloren:
First, desire ended, desire fallen, desire forlorn, desire verloren:
Then, on closer inspection, jagged desire, the desire of the upturned beak of unfledged bird, the desire of landmine, the desire of gin trap. A savage desire that will consume the planet; the desire of flame and fire; burning desire:
The Other Shapes of Desire
Desire must have other shapes besides round desire's desire to receive or channel, long desire's desire to reach out and up, and jagged desire's desire to take or kill. What about precise desire's desire to balance precariously? Yes, but that desire does not reside in a pipe but resides in my assessment of a bunch of pipes. Here we go:
Perched on this wall, these pipes of fired clay seem to represent a fragile desire. A precarious desire. The pipes seem to become thinner, finer, more vulnerable just in the act of piling them up. One will start to roll and they will all roll. Helter skelter. So this precise or precarious desire seems like thin desire.
And then there's grasping, consuming, all-consuming, devouring desire. Desire like a net or filled sail or the digger bucket on a JCB. I cannot make these pipes represent that devouring bucket desire.
Perhaps there are other-shaped desires. The cringe-shaped desire to please, the snarl-shaped desire to hurt, and so on. Today, though, I keep coming back to that pipe.gap, that space between, that slight opening where light floods in and the other side beckons. "Look", it says. "Look what you could have."
And then there's grasping, consuming, all-consuming, devouring desire. Desire like a net or filled sail or the digger bucket on a JCB. I cannot make these pipes represent that devouring bucket desire.
Perhaps there are other-shaped desires. The cringe-shaped desire to please, the snarl-shaped desire to hurt, and so on. Today, though, I keep coming back to that pipe.gap, that space between, that slight opening where light floods in and the other side beckons. "Look", it says. "Look what you could have."
And when I look, blur longs to resolve itself...
...into definition...
...and definition insists that I watch and wait until something arrives... about which I can have an opinion, form a judgement... and in that moment my attention, my zoom lens is drawn right through the pipe into the yonder.
An Interest in Pipes
Perhaps my desire is only ever to have something to think about. My desire is to be interested. That is my active desire.
My passive desire is to be seen and to be held.
Then my active desire is for excitement. Risk.
And my passive desire is for soothing. Safety.
Both in the same moment.
That is my research finding for today.
Were there any other incidental findings?
Yes. There was unexpected pinkness...
My passive desire is to be seen and to be held.
Then my active desire is for excitement. Risk.
And my passive desire is for soothing. Safety.
Both in the same moment.
That is my research finding for today.
Were there any other incidental findings?
Yes. There was unexpected pinkness...
...horizontal witchiness in the form of long, pointy desire...
... ethnic cleansing, when a sea of yellow is spoilt by, what, mauve?...
... more nesting, nestling, decorating. That's it, decorating...
... a railway semaphore signal at clear ...
... and some touching of moss: pipes' art better than anything I can set up ...
... that's all ...