ARI MARCOPOULOS / THE ONLY THING I CAN THINK ABOUT IS THIS MORNING
FINGERS MOVING FAST ON HANDHELD DEVICES. FACEBOOK ACCOUNTS, IMAGE BANKS, DIGITAL NOISE; FARAWAY SERVERS STORING COLLECTIVE PIXELS.
THE SMELL OF TONER FILLS MY NOSTRILS. EVERY BOOK I OPEN GETS A WHIFF, ‘BEAUTIFULLY PRINTED’ WILL BE OFFERED BUT I STICK MY NOSE INSIDE THE PAGES AND SUCK IN. NO LONGER DO I SEARCH FOR THE IMAGES, THEY ARE THERE WITHIN MY ARM’S REACH. BY MY SIDE IN MY LIFE, MY THOUGHTS, MY LANGUAGE. LIL WAYNE IS CONSTANTLY RECORDING THE FLOW OUT OF HIS BRAIN, I AM LIL ARI DOING THE REVERSE. REWINDING I AM FINDING THE FLOW IN MY BRAIN. NO LONGER ARE THERE ANY RULES, THERE IS RESEARCH AND LIFE LIVED. THERE IS NO WAY KNOWING WHAT IT IS THAT I AM LOOKING FOR. ALWAYS PUSHING TO SEE WHERE TO GO WITH THIS.
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CURTAINLESS WINDOWS IN A CALVINIST COUNTRY WERE THE FIRST PHOTOGRAPHS I SAW, 3-D PSYCHOLOGY REDUCED TO A 2D SELECTION. THE WINDOW FRAME THE FIRST LESSON, THE PROTESTANT DISPLAY OF A LIFE UNTAINTED. BUT EVEN A CHILD CAN SEE THE CRACKS OF A WIFE LEFT FOR WEEKS BY A FLYING HUSBAND. ELIZABETH TAYLORESQUE IN A PEIGNOIR ALL DAY SIPPING SHERRY’S, THE FIRST EROTIC IMAGE. HER KIDS OBVIOUSLY IGNORED. THE TRUE PROTESTANT NEIGHBOR’S CHILDREN PRESSED WITH THEIR NOSES AGAINST THE WINDOW AS WE PLAYED SOCCER, POTHOLE COVERS AS GOALS. AJAX!!!!!! WHITE JERSEY AND A RED STRIPE. BEAT LIVERPOOL 5-1 IN THE FOG. ONLY A SMALL PATCH OF NATURE ON THE CORNER. WE CALLED IT THE FOREST, BUT ON REVISITING MY HOMETOWN, CLEARLY THE FOREST WAS NOW HOME TO 2 SMALL ONE-FAMILY HOMES WITH TINY YARDS. IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL TO THINK THAT AS A CHILD, MY FRIENDS & I THOUGHT OF THIS ONE UNDEVELOPED CORNER IN THE SUBURBS AS THE FOREST. WE WERE COWBOYS AND INDIANS, KNIGHTS. WILHELM TELL, ROBIN HOOD, IVANHOE, HEROES THAT GLOWED OUT OF THE BLACK AND WHITE TELEVISION IN OUR LIVING ROOM. NOW I LIVE IN A BIG FOREST PERHAPS APPRECIATING THE TREES LESS. ONE ALWAYS SEEMS TO NEED OTHER’S EYES TO REALLY SEE.
/ EXTRACT OF ARI MARCOPOULOS TEXT IN ISSUE002
THE ENTIRE 18 PAGES FEATURE ON ARI MARCOPOULOS WITH A TEXT BY NEVILLE WAKEFIELD ONLY IN THE PRINTED EDITION OF SOME/THINGS MAGAZINE ISSUE002 / THE BLACK BOOK