Wednesday, 18 January 2012

ANDRE BRETON AND PHILIPPE SOUPAULT “The Magnetic Fields (fragment)” (1920)

The corridors of the big hotels are empty and the cigar smoke is hiding. A man comes down the stairway and notices that it's raining; the windows are white. We sense the presence of a dog lying near him. All possible obstacles are present. There is a pink cup; an order is given and without haste the servants respond. The great curtains of the sky draw open. A buzzing protests this hasty departure. Who can run so softly? The names lose their faces. The street becomes a deserted track.

About four o'clock that same day a very tall man was crossing the bridge that joins the separate islands. The bells, or perhaps it was the trees, struck the hour. He thought he heard the voices of his friends speaking: “The office of lazy trips is to the right,” they called to him, “and on Saturday the painter will write to you. ” The neighbors of solitude leaned forward and through the night was heard the whistling of streetlamps. The capricious house loses blood. Everybody loves a fire; when the color of the sky changes it's somebody dying. What can we hope for that would be better? Another man standing in front of a perfume shop was listening to the rolling of a distant drum. The night that was gliding over his head came to rest on his shoulders. Ordinary fans were for sale; the y bore no more fruit. People were running without knowing why in the direction of the estuaries of the sea. Clocks, in despair, were fingering their rosaries. The cliques of the virtuous were being formed. No one went near the great avenues that are the strength of the city. A single storm was enough. From a distance or close at hand, the damp beauty of prisons was not recognized. The best refuges are stations because the travelers never know which way to go. You could read in the lines of the palm that the most fragrant vows of fidelity have no future. What can we do with muscle-bound children? The warm blood of bees is preserved in bottles of mineral water. We have never seen sincerities exposed. Famous men lose their lives in the carelessness of those beautiful houses that make the heart flutter. How small they seem, these rescued tides! Earthly happinesses run in floods. Each object is Paradise.

A great bronze boulevard is the shortest road. Magical squares do not make good stopping places. Walk slowly and carefully; after a few hours you can see the pretty nose-bleed bush. The panorama of consumptives lights up. You can hear every footfall of the underground travelers. And yet the most ordinary silence reigns in these narrow places. A traveler stops, changing expression. Wondering, he approaches the colored bush. Without doubt he wants to pick it but all he can do is shake hands with another traveler who is covered with stolen jewels. Their eyes exchange sulphurous sounds like the murmuring of a dry moon, but a glance disperses the most wonderful meetings. No one could recognize the pale- faced travelers.

Monday, 16 January 2012


I started tumbling pics I found from good mags in my flat. No need to steal when you can SCAN.
Check it HERE ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Sunday, 15 January 2012

Sounds like School

As soon as you feel off track ask the tutor otherwise you feel more and more lost and gradually disintegrate into a cloud of guilty failure.

Be aware of your interests and what you want to gain out of the experience/project.

Argue with the tutor if you strongly believe that you should take your project in a different direction (but you need the energy and focus to do this).

Be aware of the energy/dynamics in the classroom. How are you contributing to this?

Tackle the task head on and don’t try and bullshit that you know what you’re doing. If you don’t feel like you know what’s going on, ask other people in the class or gather a few people together to talk about it. Also talk with tutor.

Make energy for yourself by working in a way that seems natural and easy for you to gain enthusiasm for your subject. Research things you like. Obvs, but are you?

Our rock bottom= struggling through the project not really understanding and being told we’re missing the point of the brief. Being inbetweeners, not really embracing it.

Need to

Identify and admit to self and tutor when struggling/don’t understand.

Define what want to do/learn

Remain conscious and alert at all times.

Down arrow

The process of finding how to do this is enough.


Feels like i've ploughed through a giant see through wall.

Things are still slow though.

(had to centre it coz otherwise it goes strange).

15th Jan

Decisions Decisions Decisions

Have been made.

I would like to now make a long reflective blog post.

In true camberwell crit style I will start with

BASICALLY, i've decided to stay for another semester. It's been tough and confusing and although I came here thinking that I would be staying for a year the decision was still questionable.

This past week has been especially tough and emo. Skipped classes before xmas because I really couldn't face showing the 'work' that I had. Pointless unnecessary work stress over hol impaired me to staying indoors staring blankly at a computer screen. I felt like I had lost it. Went back on the first day with a desperate idea met with a table of faces pretending to look interested and was shot down by the tutor.

"I don't think you understand the brief still, have you translated it?"
"Erm, yes." no.

So we had chats with Frank who told us some things which I summarised and typed out. I may make an extra blog post to add a dramatic effect that i'm sure my avid followers will appreciate.