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| The sense of a transparent flagging
over a wound persisted. I became obsessed with the flags, I made
many failed montages of flags in all directions, Childe Hassam on
a dark day. The flags spun out of control. Another film shot when
I scanned it came out all wrong, some algorithm stuck in repeat.
Like the flags flying around from too many moves with the mouse,
this could prove a productive error on the part of the scanner.
Virilio’s machine making images for the machine set out a
line of flight or resistance, I set it across the horizontal planes
at top and base. Against which, it was evident to push the film
shots of the slide, all that velvety not very pixel-savvy slush—a
colloidal suspension, just paused momentarily in its push from behind
the back of the image out into the real volume in which I stand,
not one nation under God. Cali, my republic. |
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DATE: 2005-06
34 x 72 inches
(86 x 182 cm)
Chromogenic lightjet print
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