the rosen red

On Sundays I watch a live zero books discussion on the chapters from Karl Marxs Capital. Initially im a bit lost given I don’t know the text but it doesn’t take long for the discussion to make sense by way of visual associations, the particular metaphors used by each speaker. Much of my receptivity to information is to do with what so happens to stick for whatever reason. What images stick: what meanings hold themselves together for me long enough to contemplate them. So far I think the Marxist prism is a very nice one from which to ‘make sense’ through. It clearly has practical applications but id be lying if I said I don’t enjoy the factory and industrial aesthetic; to mechanize my body through and through and then the problem solving of evacuating the machine. And the semantic reductions and misunderstanding I make which lead to my own sexed visions of the labour process. This involves my usual habits of screenshotting and collating information via collage. And here is a cultivated screenshot from last weekends session. Hope the lads don’t mind that I stole their faces

evolution of the image:

As the printer was running out of ink the associations faded and gave way to a red alien outline-form, i call it: the rosen red. Completely indifferent to human face it was moved solely by its interest in architectural curves. Ernesto happened to find himself in the factory as the red reclaimed it. He woke wondering where his comrades had gone...