I have been thinking about my strategies –my art-making strategies that I usually use—and I am trying to employ them in this strange context. I always worry when I get involved with other people, other artists, and particularly the “public”, whatever that is. I am a bit of a control-freak. After all, I have been successfully indoctrinated by a certain art college, and that has had a profound and lasting effect on my ability to have un-analytic fun. So I am taking this project far too seriously and have decided that the best approach is to come up with a different strategy every night that pertains to my discomfort, and that the nightly experience of enacting out the strategy will help guide, or direct my decisions for the next night’s strategy bringing me ever-closer to the distilled visual version of my discomfort.
On the first day I head over to the site, it is the Granville bus loop at 5th Avenue, right next to the great waterfall that I love. I arrive much too early and I feel like I might throw up. I want this feeling to translate digitally. In my anxious mode, I grab on for dear life to the strategy I have used many times, and I ask the kind volunteer to take photos of me every minute as I dance in front of the lens. This project will be called Thirty Minutes of Sheer Hell, or Thirty Minutes of Discomfort, depending on my sense of humour when I hang the photos.
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