Note down what you can see. Anything worthy of note going on. Do you know how to see what ís worthy of note? Is there anything that strikes you?
Nothing strikes you. You don’t know how to see.
You must set about it more slowly, almost stupidly.
Force yourself to write down what is of no interest, what is most obvious, most common, most colorless. Force yourself to see more flatly.
Carry on.
Until the scene becomes improbable.
Until you have the impression, for the briefest of moments, that you are in a strange town, or, better still, until you can no longer understand what is happening or is not happening, until the whole place becomes strange, and you no longer even know that this is what is called a town, a street, buildings, pavements…"
(Georges Perec, from Species of Spaces, 83-85)
(from the archives of the Museum of Natural History)
(Damien Hirst, "The Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living)
(The world's highest popping toaster, by Freddie Yauner)
(Man Ray)
(Mark Shunney)
(Urs Fischer)
(Kimihiko Okada)(Nick Rodrigues)
(Joshua Allen Harris)
(Yuken Teruya)
(Liza Lou)
(Damien Hirst, "For the Love of God")
(Lenka Clayton, "to do")
(Yuken Teruya)
(Tim Hawkinson)
(Bill Woodrow)
(Crystal Schenk)
(Brian Jungen)
(Tom Friedman)
(Andy Goldsworthy)
(Gavin Turk)
(Sarah Sze)
(Nele Azevedo)
(Kelley Mark's "Demonstration")
(which I read aloud)
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