Started, in a semi random way dictated to or guided by circumstance.  Two little flowers become eyes. The kind of flower you draw as a kid, in your school book, or while talking on the phone. Its relaxing. Meaningless.

Taking doodles to a logical conclusion. The work is repetitive and absurd. I’m simply finding something useful to do with all this dead matter. Each new intervention is like a way to keep going, finding an aesthetic reason to exist. Each line is an extension of desire and boredom. (I was listening to someone talk about Shopenhauer at this point)(Art is the only response to desire and boredom).
The doodle is semi-psychadelic, I could have a problem with that, or I could be re-discovering it. Falling in love with it, seeing it with fresh eyes. It seems overindulgent, the build up of pattern ad-absurdum. Associated with mind-blowing drug use, new age, false consciousness and groovy posters. Especially the way it comes out of the eyes. I can’t help it. Im drawn to the eyes. I don’t care if it looks like visions coming out, naive. I’ll embrace naive if it helps get the job done.
This endless doodle of boredom is filling time and space. Use, usefulness-uselessness.The way it looks, overly frilled, pleated and patterned, is a bit baroque. Indulgent and difficult.Hallucinatory, fractalised, mathematic. A physical effect, illusionary, invoking a so-called mystical experience, contact with the infinite, an infinite number perhaps. Relaxing, meaningless, endless.
(apologies for blurry images)

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