N. Olthuis, Werk veilig (work safely), poster, 65 x 50 cm
Chris Fraser, One line drawing the ceiling of the Mills College Art Museum, 2010
“‘Well suppose – Pemulis can just make out Lyle – ‘Suppose I were to give you a key ring with ten keys. With, no, with a hundred keys, and I were to tell you that one of these keys will unlock it, this door we’re imagining opening in onto all you want to be, as a player. How many of the keys would you be willing to try?’
‘Well I’d try every darn one.’ Rader tells Lyle.
‘Then you are willing to make mistakes, you see. You are saying you will accept 99% error. The paralyzed perfectionist you say you are would stand there before that door. Jingling the keys. Afraid to try the first key.’”
—David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest (p.199, Back Bay paperback edition)
Chris Fraser, Cone, 2013
The Sister: “You mean you sat down on that toilet seat? Don’t you remember mom taught us to hover above seats we did not clean ourselves?”
Perhaps history this century is rippled with gathers in its fabric such that if we are situated at the bottom of a fold, it’s impossible to determine warp, woof or pattern anywhere else. By virtue, however, of existing in one gather it is assumed there are others, compartmented off into sinuous cycles each of which come to assume greater importance than the weave itself and destroy any continuity. Thus it is that we are charmed by the funny-looking automobiles of the ‘30’s, the curious fashions of the ‘20’s, the peculiar moral habits of our grandparents. We produce and attend musical comedies about them and are conned into a false memory, a phony nostalgia about what they were. We are accordingly lost to any sense of a continuous tradition. Perhaps if we lived on a crest, things would be different. We could at least see.
—Thomas Pynchon, V, Chapter seven