And so… amidst the Chaos, I write within its turbulence, like a calm with the STORM… finding solace in this primordial writing space, around which are the resonances + ground up fragmentation + particles of the MEDIA FLOW. That Flow never ceases, ALWAYS ON, IN THE EVER-PRESENT-PRESENT OF RIGHT NOW. BUT INSIDE OF THE TORRENT I keep on writing in the sweeping granulation of it all.
The media FLOW that emanates from the Bunker via the Third Space Network is a study in information: excess, noise, beauty, comprehensibility, seduction, control, and systems management. The FLOW can be too much information or too little, and at times opaque, fragmented, complex, jarring, mesmerizing, translucent. We ask: how does the FLOW impact the nervous system, state of mind, intellect, and the sense of who we are in a world of constantly pulsating information?
When two women survivors of sexual abuse confront a Senator in an elevator to dissuade him from confirming a Supreme Court nomination hanging on the precipice: that is the raw hope of humanity rising. This bold assertion of civic duty and act of conscious at the House of Congress to challenge unfair authority is the kind of powerful defense of democracy that gives raw hope to what remains of a rapidly deteriorating political system.
Here in the Bunker, my life in Singapore is receding as a very distant and faded memory like a strange dream that evaporates in the light of day. The Bunker is my home again, where I can carve out a sense of order & production & communication. The Bunker is a space for the interior dialogue, connected to everything & everyone & everywhere: all the voices that hover around and infiltrate this space of refuge.
In my Underground Studio Bunker in Washington, DC, I am creating a live performance space for 24/7 Internet broadcasting over the Third Space Network (3SN). 3SN is for programming ANYTHING I want, WHENEVER I want, without any traditional gatekeepers, curators, dealers, or anyone else telling me what I can or cannot do. 3SN is a social sculpture uniting viewers, artists, radicals, anyone who dares to participate in an ongoing dialogue in the third space, not bound by distance culture or geography.
Climbing up the circuitous pathway of the Borobudur temple just outside of Yogyakarta, Java, I encountered a sight that revealed the sheer magnitude of the infiltration of the selfie into our mediated lives. The selfie, the compulsive act of narcissism, rooted in our innate desire to look deeply in the virtual mirror to gaze at our digital reflection, has been seized by religious monks who are just as intent to contemplate the medial gaze.