B. Ingrid Olson
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
Work from her oeuvre.
“If it should be a novel, we’d hope for it to be one written in verse. Said novel would be for two sisters, a secret life and a normal life. Their ground is unstable ground, but usable nonetheless. Between the verses, as the peripheries start their blur, we find our limits – the edges of our attention and the areas not yet seen. Neither one likes what they are reading, so, each sister models for the opposite; one draws the other, the other photographs the one. These two are a coming of age; together, their normal and secret lives: maybe a perfect life. The secret sister and the normal sister each have recurrent dreams. We do not know if these are the same dream – they’re neither repetitious nor episodic. In this poem, we wait in the refrain – from these grounds we look to the face of our experience, the combinations of verses recurrent. Such moments mark the ending and beginning but neither distinctly.
This is the place where we should want to be relaxed by our memories, when what we saw as the cutting room floor now stays present. That foot again, twice.
The circular mirrors again. Also again: Three ways of looking (2013) but this time different – (and should it be three ways of looking, does it benefit us to ask what those three may be? And once determined, how are they ranked? 1) eye 2) mirror 3) camera or 1) eye 2) mirror 3) viewer? That was an easier question before this image here: mirror, mirror, eye, camera, viewer, or halfway through: “mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror eye? camera viewer”) – It’s less easy to take these photographs one by one, they spill into each other; they are each already somewhat an adjacency, or, per J.D.: “…an arrow cannot / be said to have parts because the parts are all / something else until purpose connects them.”” – Cura Magazine