Yesterday I had a really, really bad day. First, I woke up (late), to find that the geyser that hangs portentously from my bathroom wall had exploded, resulting in an indoor monsoon and four inches of water. The ceiling was actually raining. The apartment smells like soil and minerals as a result. While I was scurrying around trying to phone someone to help, I fell really hard, on my knees, in the water that by then had begun to creep into the lounge.
By the time I finally sorted the mess out and headed to work I had decided the day could only get better. I was wrong. Back-to-back meetings, neck pain from the weekend’s shenanigans and an ever expanding to-do list meant that by 5pm I had developed an eye twitch. I raced to the bank, remembering, fondly, FNB’s extra-length opening hours for us working folk. The security guard informed me that these hours were recently curtailed. Mooi. I took a deep breath, made myself a coffee, re-cleaned the bathroom to try get rid of the earthy scent, and then headed out to go view some vintage for my next Rah-Rah Room sale.
On the way out, rushing, I scraped the hell out of my car on the electronic gate, adding to the existing collection of city bumps my little silver Bling has sustained over the last few years. Arriving at the vintage viewing, I did a series of sunrise salutations in the corridor while I waited, reasoning that multi-tasking of an all new level was in order. The vintage was indeed beauteous, and my spirits were lifted, in particular, by a suede scalloped mini skirt and a Warhol print silk blouse. When I got home, I shelved my to-do list in the name of relaxation, and promptly burnt my dinner (a first) whilst watching Gordon Ramsay lecture other bad cooks on their lack of skills. Touche.
This is Ben’s personal statement, an alternative to an ‘About Me’ on his website:
- As a person interested in many things, I have difficulty focusing
- I love the blurry and banal
- Folk signage: KEYS CUT HERE
- The invisible systems of the everyday
- Old traditions of fine craftsmanship
- And the spontaneity of a child’s scribble
- I believe in the phonetics of materials and the grammar of space
- Twisting a joke out of the mundane
- Simplistic ideas
- Ridiculous restraints
- Collecting, archiving, processing, filtering, editing
- Lining things up and counting them
- Finding patterns
- The rich history embodied in an old rusty tool, or threadbare quilt
- I like very much to point at things, directing the viewer’s attention to something they may normally miss.
- Grouping like things together
- (Or unlike things)
- Bouncing things against each other
- Recognizing social and urban phenomena
- Shifting focus and contexts to widen art’s lens
- The peculiarities of human behavior
- Absurdity. Nonsense.
- The drive to relate to things
- The Hokey-Pokey
(I like him alot)