I am going to Canada. To London Ontario to be exact. I will tell them there all about a project that I alluded to in my last post.

Drawing Out Deleuze will live then outside of the confining relation between art studio and computer screen. It will physically traverse the distance that in the click of a mouse takes only milliseconds, and will be projected into a conference hall at the University of Western Ontario where other delegates at Intensities and Lines of Flight: Deleuze and Guattari and the Arts, will be invited to make up their own minds as to whether my long and drawn out relationship with Gilles Deleuze is one that can stand scrutiny.

Differences and repetitions will be highlighted as much as ignored, practiced as much as considered. The visceral quality of practice will be expressed and received through the cognitive, the irrationality of inspiration will be rationalised – just for the questions it may raise.

It will not be for the first time yet it will be new…but, as Deleuze himself has said,

This is how it should be done: Lodge yourself on a stratum, experiment with the opportunities it offers, find an advantageous place on it, find potential movements of deterritorialization, possible lines of flight, experience them, produce flow conjunctions here and there, try out continuums of intensities segment by segment, have a small plot of new land at all times. Deleuze and Guattari, 2004:178

I have to find my place in the crowd that follows and surrounds Deleuze. Each individual understands, yet sometimes only stands, in their own way.

I am part of, yet not of the crowd. I cannot follow, for following would demand an engagement with catastrophe that Deleuze insists awaits me. Engagement with process is all, but engagement with catastrophe would precipitate a ‘fall’ through a hermeneutic circle that forms the rim of an abyss of self-knowledge. Such a fall would be fatal, as an artist’s life must be spent searching but never finding, only circling the abyss in the process of achieving the unachievable. While living in the paradox then I ‘use’ the concepts, I ‘practice’ Deleuze in a way that I think he would appreciate, and I hope that such seeming arrogance will be understood for what it truly is. Where difference exceeds the limitations of representation by distant horizons, I engage in complex repetition, wherein difference is internalised and the two of us, Deleuze and I, as singularities, reflect each other.

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