Ghosts of My Life – name taken from the title of theorist Mark Fisher’s next book.
(a bit rough and ready, but it’s the first time I’ve written for well over a month)
Being at a connection point, sometimes receiving, sometimes sending but never moving beyond this position. Perpetually separated.
I look at the list of contact numbers on my cell phone – friends, family, associates, work numbers at my beckoning. They should all slot into an hierarchy of emotional investment I have with that contact. yet they have all been reduced to end points that have no more importance than the other, like a switchboard of lights flickering on and off.
It feels like I am on a ring road, skirting around a city, wishing to move inside but never managing to leave the orbital. Nobody gets nearer to me than anybody else, just an ever-expanding series of connections kept at a distance. In this reality all friends and associates come and go as easily as the contact numbers that are deleted from the cell phone; and can remerge again; the flat pulse of pleasantries between one and another that sometimes seem as interchangeable with yet another as the sprites that make up the digital sign language which can merge with any other in our postmodern times.
This doesn’t mean I am not fond of people/that I don’t at least wish to be in a position where caring and emotional investment are possible, but it is like they aren’t there; at least not in the infinity of non-space from which I feel I am restricted to approach others from. They too are locked in their organic tombs of a body that doesn’t correspond to the world of digital connection which it is, nevertheless, controlled by.
Philosopher Franco ‘Bifo’ Berardi writes about the notion of conjunction, describing love as a perfect example of a conjunctive process between two subjects; that what they were before the point of love is different to what they are after that point.
Berardi defines our era as a connective era only. We are constantly connecting/disconnecting, but no meeting of us with another point changes us. Always on the move, never arriving; the emotional outcome of an hegemonic system that Ivor Southwood describes as placing subjects in a ‘non-stop inertia’. I very much feel like I am in a state of non-stop emotional inertia; the only sensations being anxiety and depression ,caused by the deficiency of emotional investment. I have found that the nails are being hammered into this coffin that contains my ability for emotional investment, due to a need to encase myself in numbness, in the face of a world where it is hard to imagine anything but a gradual worsening of all the components that make up the present.
ps: I’m sorry if this doesn’t do anything construction, as we all look for ways out of the current capitalist nightmare. But, like my art, I can only express abjection.
My artwork features in this month’s issue of Now Then, an independent magazine centered on the Sheffield area. I am pleased to have my work featured in this magazine, as I have great admiration of it and its impact in the Sheffield area; it being an incredibly refreshing (free!) magazine, and which more often than not contains more relevant articles on contemporary world issues than t more nationwide media sources.