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The Metamodern Smudge: Seeing Growth on the Frame

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  The Metamodern Smudge: Seeing Growth on the Frame My use of the phrase "Fingerprint on the frame" functions as a metamodernist artifact. From my perspective, metamodernism oscillates between modernist sincerity and postmodern irony, and this concept sits precisely at that intersection. It recognises that the artwork within the frame is a construction, while also valuing the human touch that created it. More than just recognition, it is the fundamental identifier.  In this space, the smudge is not just an artistic signature; it is a map of personal growth. It reveals the traces of our experiences and the impact of our interactions with the world around us. The transparency of glass symbolises the invisible cultural conditions that shape our perspectives, allowing us to see through to the complex realities that influence our creativity and expression. This interplay creates a deeper understanding of both the art and the artist, acknowledging that every mark left behind tells ...
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Godin Waiting

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Godin Waiting 
I have been in-waiting to go, for far too long.
Wanting to change, to improve, to transform. 
Now I am stuck in this place of best practices. 
All the pre-planning, all the strategy, the tactics, and motivation is fading away.
Step one, two, and three are now at mercy to this real-world placement.
This waiting room, a monstrous social construct contained through collective intuition.

All who have experienced disregard, within chant of 'be patient', have found their way into this room. 
The fight to climb and to gain authority eventually leads to waiting. 
The eventuality - all worn out by the fight within itself.
Only to become the shell of what could have been and was now has ever-been. 
Increments and trinkets of discarded shells underscored by the need to profit. 
Shedding the skins of splendor and replaced by titles and agents of authority.
I am within the placement of a utilized progression cue.
Nothing out of the normal really.
I know I must wait my turn.

In this waiting room, clarity of purpose falls hand in hand alongside the certainty and strength of urgency.
I can no longer sit within this snug togetherness.
This waiting room is for tired and forgotten people.
I am yet tired and forgotten.

The waiting sits comfortably together, within a song of forgotten need and want.
This is not a passive room, it is a well-constructed fortress of resistance.
Make them wait,  enforce the barrier, and remove escalation. 
It will happen - they will eventually depart from their platform. 
Their hold will transpire into unconscious zones.
Voice will only emerge when factored by annoyance. 
There will be no meaningful digression. 
No understanding of their want.
No point to it.
Just disgruntled jabber.
And they will eventually comply with what is now.
They will eventually not know not what they want or what you want.
They will fall into the collective experience of intuition brought about through the power of enforced waiting and managed progression. 













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