Mathias sends this greeting from India. now into the waning days of 2005. waning of several lives that are mapped crossing mine. sad, not bitter. tired, not depressed. 2006 will bring yet another set of contingencies and conditions. seeming contradictions, closings, closures, reaching. coming to junctures. always waiting for something to happen. while the flux continues.

graphics from Carmin, and then Dagmar sends this:

May you have the gladness of Christmas which is hope;
The spirit of Christmas which is peace;
The heart of Christmas which is love.
-- Ada V. Hendricks

a look back into the 1960's with some Peter-Max-like artwork from Loki. groovin'! now about playing two copies of the Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd on two turntables (yes, vinyl!), and playing with the calibration speeds. now that's a trip...

We don't need no education
We don't need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave the kids alone
Hey teacher leave us kids alone

from Armin Medosch in a call for papers to WAVES - electromagnetic waves as material and medium of art (Acoustic Space Issue #6)

Pantha Rei - everything flows

Radio waves occur naturally. Society puts the biggest emphasis on the ability of waves to carry signals. Radio, television and mobile telephony are some of the most widely used applications. The worlds fixation on content and its socio-political implications makes us forget the waves themselves. The proposed exhibition takes a look at the physical properties of waves. Waves are considered to be 'immaterial' from the point of view of visual art. However, light is just a specific band in the spectrum of electromagnetic waves. Some of the properties of waves change according to their frequency and wavelength. It is worthwhile looking at those properties and exploring their implications for art. Wave-like phenomena play an important role in various aspects of reality, from the physical consistency of the world (audio-, air-, water-waves) to Kondratiev-cycles and the carbon-cycle (the storage and release of CO2 by oceans and forests).

A materialistic analysis of waves reveals that there is a direct relation between the wavelength and the length of an antenna - the device necessary to receive and send waves. [lambda] = the wavelength of an electromagnetic wave is the result of the speed of light divided by the frequency. For instance, the frequency on which wireless lan operates, is 2.4 Gigahertz. 300 000 / 2400 000 = 0.125 km or 12.5 cm. The length of the antenna needs to be [λ]/2 = 6.25 cm or multiples of it. Through this formula expresses itself a link between immaterial wave and physical object. The antenna as an object combines sculptural and functional aspects.

We cannot speak about waves without mentioning wave/particle duality. Light and electromagnetic radiation are actually not only waves but also exhibit properties of particles. Wave-particle duality also applies to matter. Thus, the 'building bricks' of matter need to be understood also as waves. The relationships between wavelength, mass, energy and speed offer exciting possibilities for an artistic exploration of the ontological status of affairs. Since 100 years we cannot take the physical status of the world for granted and must live with an understanding of spacetime which is counter-intuitive and hard to visualize. For art, this is an interesting opening, a chance to ask the big questions about fundamentals such as time, space, energy and substances.

It is a basic property of waves to create connections. Through the antenna we get access to Hertzian space. Artists using electromagnetic waves as their medium are creating wave-sculptures, real-time connections in time and space, which allow us to enter another space. Those connections can go both ways from formlessness to form and structure and back -- the materialization of the inconcrete and its opposite.

Around planet earth a tight information sphere has been formed. Whereas some artists explore this thicket of global communication networks with various probing techniques, it becomes increasingly clear that it does not make much sense to add just another communication channel to this already babylonic mess. Increasingly artists focus on experimenting with their own signals and systems instead of relying on the commodified information infrastructures of the global media sphere. By creating mobile ad-hoc networks or by pointing antennas towards outer space or the depth of oceans artists literally open up the horizons towards the possibilities of a new way of seeing and interacting with the world.

the title (also spelled Panta Rhei) leads me on an exploration of Heraclitus, the originator of that proverbial saying. I end up here:

Science, like philosophy, has sought to escape from the doctrine of perpetual flux by finding some permanent substratum amid changing phenomena. Chemistry seemed to satisfy this desire. It was found that fire, which appears to destroy, only transmutes: elements are recombined, but each atom that existed before combustion still exists when the process is completed.

Accordingly it was supposed that atoms are indestructible, and that all change in the physical world consists merely in rearrangement of persistent elements. This view prevailed until the discovery of radioactivity, when it was found that atoms could disintegrate. Nothing daunted, the physicist invented new and smaller units, called electrons and protons, out of which atoms where composed; and these units were supposed, for a few years, to have the indestructibility formerly attributed to the atoms.

Unfortunately it seemed that protons and electrons could meet and explode, forming, not new matter, but a wave of energy spreading through the universe with the velocity of light. Energy had to replace matter as what is permanent. But energy, unlike matter, is not a refinement of the common-sense notion of a 'thing'; it is merely a characteristic of a physical process. It might be fancifully identified with the Heraclitean fire, but it is the burning, not what burns. 'What burns' has disappeared from modern physics. -- Bertrand Russell

Marianne Murdock, Arizona-based author, singer, song-writer and self-confessed-but-reformed coffee-slave releases this straight-ahead rockin' blues number about life as a espresso-maker in a world where java is the drug of choice. Everyone's happy to see the dealer, but the desperation for the fix over-rides everything. Baristas everywhere will be toe-tapping to this one and no doubt Starbucks employees will be line-dancing on the counters to lyrics like ... some caffeine-depleted repeater causin' trouble in the line ... and ... you don't want no sleeve because you like it when it's hot ... For a free mp3 preview or to pick up your personal copy, head to http://www.baristasong.com/. What's an addict to do now?

Dance!

the destruction of the correspondance, print, and book archive begins. too many things to carry onward: it's all been lugged for thousands of kilometers across the US and Europe. not much to show from it either. enough is enough. so, better to heat the house with same. pounds and pounds of stuff that can no longer be sustained with a broken back.

An autopoietic machine is a machine organized (defined as a unity) as a network of processes of production (transformation and destruction) of components which: (i) through their interactions and transformations continuously regenerate and realize the network of processes (relations) that produced them; and (ii) constitute it (the machine) as a concrete unity in space in which they (the components) exist by specifying the topological domain of its realization as such a network.
[?]
the space defined by an autopoietic system is self-contained and cannot be described by using dimensions that define another space. When we refer to our interactions with a concrete autopoietic system, however, we project this system on the space of our manipulations and make a description of this projection. -- H. Maturana & F. Varela

Outi, a former student sends this link http://www.liveherring.org, a project she's been working on.

and more mailing list commentary

sotto voce (to the iDC list): some comments on the latest threads... probably been said before elsewhere on this or other lists, but when the question of WHAT TO DO? is posed so poignantly on the list. well, hell, I've got an answer that I have tested in many situations against many incomplete ideas ;-)) (unfortunately, it cannot be fully transmitted via this particular medium which apportions attention into too-small bits to allow coherence. if anybody is interested in skyping, phoning, irc-ing, or otherwise synchronizing for a couple hours at a pass, I'd be totally willing to engage at that level). while I have great respect for people who choose resistance as a model for political expression, I believe that more often than not, resistance simply acts as a counter-balancing prop that holds up that-which-is-being-resisted. as a simple anecdote from the distant Reagan era: it appeared that Reagan would take some action -- declare a covert war, make an attack on alternative culture, or simply say something stupid -- and there would be a flood of artists who would 'make art' about that action. this is the definition of (a) reactionary. it seemed, with the original "teflon" president, that critical actions and expressions, no matter how intelligent or caustic simply built up Reagan's power. that the repetition of his name in song, discussion, and print only served as a constructive support not for the resistance, but for sustaining the regime. reactionary art. easy to find inspiration (in the embodiment of that-which-is-to-be-resisted), no need to hunt. somehow comforting to have a daily dose of Reagan (or Bush) to get the fires stoked. revolution, on the other hand, seeks the unknown. it does not seek to form and replicate itself through impressive contact with a dominant social system. if anthing, it leans on the void. a revolutionary praxis is a pathway that is not mapped before moving along it. it is sustained by a desire to face the unknown and to change with the flux of life. it does not advertise its presence except by the wake arising from the actions that transmit its energy to the surrounding milieu. a revolutionary praxis is by definition sustainable, albeit unstable and indeterminate. it does not seek to capture defined social pathways for its expression. it leaks energy into the immediate surroundings through its presence. leakage is the same as idiosyncratic expression -- expression that may not be immediately recognizable to those standing around it because of the idiosyncracy. participating in revolutionary praxis demands no allegiance. it demands acquiescence to flows that are greater than any political/social system. it does not shout. it moves always. it cannot be a target because when aimed at, it's gone. everything is possible. the site of revolution is the minimal system necessary for change. this system is the exchange that happens between two beings. broadband, unpredictable. without the Self opening freely to an Other who reciprocates, there is no possibility for revolution when revolution is defined by constant movement and change. revolution cannot be posited to happen 'out there' in an abstracted social system. technology is that which mediates between the Self and the Other. IT is just another mediation. when revolution sits on a base of human-to-human connection, the level of mediation can be quite variable, as long as it allows the movement of enough energy to maintain connection. this level is different for different people. etc, etc.

catch the J.S. Acker Musical Showcase again this year -- this time with video camera. one small fragment, the Chancel Chimes Handbell Choir, is ready to clock ur noggin'. more morsels to come. like the violinist in the knick-knack shop.

Loki's grandfather, Jón Gudjónsson, passed away this last night in his sleep, at the nursing home in Reykjavík. my former father-in-law. this is an image of him from 1992 when he still had a fishing boat and would put out in summer from Hrísey sometimes for a day or more, fishing for cod. I was fortunate to accompany him on several occasions, running the hook lines, piloting the boat back to harbor while he cut hundreds of filets. he had a seaman's eyes, Light blue with a far-seeing squint. he navigated simply by watching the water and any nearby landmarks. whenever standing onshore, he rocked from side to side, feeling the sea after 50 years of fishing. while the word jolly is overused for Santa Claus, it would apply to Jón, with a boisterous and quick laugh, no mistaking when he entered a room. he was an expert making landi, the garage-made Icelandic hooch with a kick. he brewed it to 95% alcohol and then watered it down a bit for mere humans to consume. pure, potent, no hangover. and hárfisk (dried filets) which he supplied the whole family -- he had a whole production facility in the back of the tar-paper cabin on the island -- along with a noisy fan assembly to speed the drying. he was the master of repairing things with whatever was available in the moment. enough to get through the next winter. I considered him to be one of my few connections to 'authentic' Icelandic traditions. growing up in the times when famine was not far away, moving to the big city during the WWII boom, and then capitalizing on the purely Icelandic boom brought on by the international law increasing national coastal (fishing) control to 200 miles. he owned and captained a large trawler for some years. he could cat-nap anywhere at any time, even after several cups of jet-fuel black coffee. on the sea, he admitted to me once that he had conversations with the seagulls. he kept a weather log book which he would make regular entries in the most beautiful handwriting, with big tough hands that never saw gloves ever when gutting fish for hours in freezing temperatures.

I remember one late spring, accompanying him north to prepare the Arnarberg 101 (his boat) for the summer -- scraping and painting, fixing the engine and autopilot, and other tasks. first thing, however, on arriving by ferry to Hrísey was to make the rounds, visiting the locals, he knew everybody. house after house of coffee, cakes, pancakes, and landi. oh my gosh, my stomach was trashed after several hours of that. when we were alone, he would mostly speak English, but when there was a family gathering he would imperiously demand that everyone use Icelandic with me.

he will be missed by all who knew him.