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(synopsis) ‘anytime’

The painter can’t reply to Benjamin Buchloh’s question and his know-how doesn’t get a mention. I like reference to a painter’s reclusiveness and a refrain gets in here somehow. I walk up and down without a thought in the world, putting one computer away and charging another.

I like the would be signifier anytime, attaching it to passing thoughts or moments, wandering from one place to the next, carrying a camera sometimes.

An afterthought follows a presentation text and space opens up on either side of a digital still.

Christopher Sands, still 26 August 2021

You slip down a storm drain in the park and I’m dreaming your dreams, looking out of the window, getting up in the night, writing about my father. You ask me if I put things off and I say something about writing time and the fly that flew under the bed.

Things happen or well up at the same time. I'm out of sorts and the procession is long gone.

Something happens... at first discreetly and possibly linked to psychoanalysis, then all at once.

Can I say what it is?

I hoover and wash the kitchen floor... wonder about the mysteries of direct communication... following on from previous texts and questions surrounding responsiveness in too-much-information times. Byung Chul-Han refers to infocracy and I go around the edge of fields.

I’m not in good shape and cattle look large against the river. Sleep is part of the backdrop and the part time signifier anytime forces a different response in tireless times.

I’ve always liked the idea of a text or one with video, set against

extravagant analogue time and make a list of people who possibly contend with holes in digital times. It's just part of it. Part of imagining a project or story that can't be part of feasible entreaties

The thought, if it is one, involves people who are beyond retirement age or live with the consequences of serious illness, but still want to continue working or living in an environment that includes the work of art and some kind of workspace. Marketability determines dreams and what can be dreamt, but I imagine something... imagine starting somewhere and come up with something that seems part of an ongoing story.

It's forlorn, but part of praxis that begins retrospectively or with retroaction... I take my time, wanting to take my time with people who take time somewhere.

I walk up and down at night, left with something like insomnia after cancer treatment. It’s mostly not pain and something includes having something to say and saying something takes the form of a text. I mention aphanisis or fading subjectivity in a Lacanian sense and taking something in is taking something in slowly. It’s the real at the end of a primordial monologue and sometimes the presence of an analyst.

My interpretation of Lacan is what is is and time taken is particularly true with the work of art.

Christopher Sands, still (heirloom clock) 4 May 2023

Returning anytime can be anytime now... I walk up and down, moving in the direction of something less retroactive... associate sprawling moments with cameras and the moment before the moment after.

I wrap up being half asleep. It’s subject and objectality... being closed in and closed out... fading and talking too much late at night.

There are paintings and archives fall away. There’s an update and following someone like Chantal Ackerman, you have to approach things... and it can be the difference between texts and video... one is tireless and the other tempers tireless time, turning time inside back to front... possibly taking too long to come up with a text and wandering around with a camera in a daze. Some kind of everyday trauma seems possible... I’m half asleep, working all day and everyday… declining products and productivity. It isn’t like Byung Chul-Han's infocracy and something can be said for practice that takes time, but I take too long, making do with performative sentiments.

Sharing something precedes putting work out there and I came up with video called raindrop.

A ewe wanders up to a gate stamping her feet and future work trammels what Lacan calls lalangue. I make reference to a wardrobe with lions and tigers snd lying in a pile has something to do with an unwritable text called unworn clothes. One project turns into another and unanswered emails can’t be a premise in digital times... I say it can't be but have mixed thoughts.

No time has ever been like this andanytime is exceptionable. CS Lewis went through a wardrobe and I pile into unworn clothes next to lions and tigers. And childlike anxiety is an analogy linked to hauntology and talking follows what can’t be spoken.

Abandoned one way or the other, I make do in extended workspace and carrying on leads to an unlikely project in times of crisis. I can work, but can’t say what this work can be, referring to a project that’s out of reach

Christopher Sands, Angela 19 May 2023

I substitute one thing for another. An image or still first appears in the long or short version of a text called presentation and elaboration can be video and the title ancient shell.

I make changes using my phone, with Angela working downstairs. A second picture incorporates an heirloom clock and the third prompts a moving subject. She’s visible and invisible in worlds that sometime seem all too visible.

There's what Lacan calls the desire of the Other, what I want and an overlap (if one has to do with the other). I've mortality in mind when I think I know what I want to do and complications make something possible. Digital stills made a difference, then video and a sonorous title. Shells sometimes make sounds and this one is quite small. The heirloom clock doesn’t make a sound yet. It’s heavy and we see Angela peering out of the corner of the frame in the third still. I wanted to say something about corners and corners can be what they are at the end of the day... something I might have said, returning a precedent.

I'm in a tricky place, with corners turning remembered conversation into a primordial monologue. This phrase comes from Lacan's anxiety seminar and I remain speechless, dusting polished corners with my eyes closed.

Updating two websites after six months, this is the start of a new homepage. New video will follow shortly.

email chrissands48@gmail.com

https://www.christophersandsarchive.com

https://www.christopher-sands.co.uk

******The latest page is ’shell’

which is linked

to an ongoing project.

It’s also the first part

of a new text.