23 March 2005

should i take a moment to discuss my strange predilections?

who knows. but seeing as there is a great deal of what might be considered dark matter in the last couple of weeks, i'm feeling a bit concerned. gods know i've probably got some government file out there somewhere, what with outstanding student loans, questionable credit card purchases, and countless library renewals from the "...for dummies" series. and, of course, tonight, as usual, it's late and i'm feeling ponderous.
or preponderous, as the case may be.

i'm not quite sure where this interest in anatomy comes from. to make myself sound deep, i'm going to say it's because my father was a doctor, and the preoccupation became marked around the time i found out he was dead. maybe my attempts to make peace with him are now relegated to studying strange organs floating in fermaldehyde (that's Definitely spelt wrong).
heheh. i don't really believe that.
but this half nausea/half fascination is a real mystery. a funny one; the former finds the nerve endings in my hands going too numb to draw, and the latter keeps me going back with sketch book in hand.
Willow and i were marvelling the other day about this process. taking dead things and putting them in jars to look at them.
we are probably the only machines on this planet that are this curious about ourselves.
Barker (i think) told me that he read somewhere that porn was invented by Eadweard (sic) Muybridge this need to record the things we can't see while we are participating in them. the same too of all facets of the human being. i always remember johnny's armageddon speech in the film naked (mike leigh), when he's going on about how quiet our functions are. i mean the internal ones. aside from the occasional gurgle, belch, or sneeze, we hear nothing. Amazing.

1 comment:

Michael Barker said...

Blast it Stef, I can't read anything with this new fangled background colour of yours. Anyway, just thought I'd clarify re: invention of pornography. What I was refering to was a poem of the same name by the remarkable contemporary poet Albert Goldbarth. In this poem, Goldbarth suggests that Muybridge's will to see and record human action in all its banal and component parts - with the coldly consuming scientific eye of the stop-motion camera - is the invention of the pornography, in that pornography is not so much erotic as clinical in its obsession with showing the mechanics of the sex act. Does that make sense? I'm probably doing the poem a disservice, but I don't have a copy of it handy.