GUILLERMO ARANDA-MENA

"I proceed by trial and error" Bridget Riley. "If you look at the career of any brilliantly innovative individual - entrepeneur, scientist or artist - you are likely to find a surprising common trait. Their success is very often down to Plan B. That is, the thing they originally set out to do has morphed along the way into something different. Shakespeare was an actor who became a playwright. The Rolling Stones were an R&B covers band until Mick Jagger and Keith Richards started writing their own songs. Leonardo da Vinci marked hiself as an armaments designer, and so on. The list of Plan B is long and illustrious. And instructive." Will Gompertz, Think Like an Artist Page 45. Unas cuantas lineas al recibir la primavera, la primavera en Australia.  Guillermo Aranda-Mena

 SG 2022 Myth or reality? Reflections on readings from Jacques Desrrida while sketching Singapore’s most sustainable buildings: “ The study of myths raises a methodological problem, in that ti cannot be carried out according to the Cartesian principles of breaking down the difficultly into as many parts as may be necessary for finding the solution. There is no real end to methodological analysis, no hidden unity to grasped once the breaking-down process has been completed. Themes can be split up ad infinitud. Just when you think you have disentangled and separated them, you realize that they are knitting together again in response to the operation of unexpected affinities. Consequently the unity of the myth is never more than tendencial and protective and cannot reflect a state or a particular moment of the myth. It is a phenomenon of the imagination resulting from the attempt at inter parea timón; and its function is to endow the myth with synthetic from and to prevent its disinte...

 I love random. In this case a I randomly selected 24 shots out of  26,764 images I have in a drive. The poem is also left to chance as it appears in the current book I am reading. I dedicate my February post the the idea of randomness.  GAM Be calm, my pain and venture to be still   You clamoured for the Night; it falls; is here:   The city shrouds itself in the blackest chill,   Brings space to some, to others fear.   Neath pleasure’s lash, grim high executioner,   Mortal souls, that vile and worthless throng,   Reap grim remorse and admits the abject ceremony,   Pain, take my hand and let us now along….”  Baudelaire Guillermo Aranda-Mena ⓒ2022