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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 ...

Hole in the Wall: The Tide Formed My Pool

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The Tide Formed My Pool When the tide wash in from billions of kilometers away. I found myself tossed within the mirth. And within this stirred up sentiment. In the rubbish and the forgotten. I became my new reality. The one of prosperity and r eal economic growth. As best described by the social commentators of the day. Despite the widening gap that separates the haves and have nots. And the separatists and the terrorists. And the defenders of old orders and wants of youth. And the arguments that form the threats of war My new found contentment places me. Within the data of acceptable trends. Within what is normal for my age. My gender. My genetical heritage. Then as forecasted, the tide seeped out. And so began the new realities and our new stories that had to be acquired. Just look at me, as I shine under the cyclical moonlight. As now in true fullness, I bloom and reflect calm beauty. In stillness and patience, I make little comment. I shingl...

Hole in the Wall: Pool Time

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Hole in the Wall: Pool Time I wanted to fly to another planet, but I first built this swimming pool. My dreams just started getting away from me, and then I let them go. In the heat of the day, I plunge into my pool. My refreshing water. I own it. I work for it. When I'm tired of my thoughts I submerge into it. When I'm confused and in panic, I fall gently into it. I emerge feeling invigorated and comforted. Continuation seems so easy once and only after submerging in my cool clear water. My dreams to transform my life never eventuated. I knew it once, when  I was promised myself to achieve. I could aspire. You never fail when you attempt to chase. Somewhere I needed to reconcile between the obtainable haves and impossible wants. Have I succumbed to failed by fabricating my mediocrity prison of pleasure? Am I floating in falsehood Am I wallowing in water of hindrance? I built and tender to this my own 3-meter submersion of comfort. In my moment before...