The Telephone Project

Game of Telephone

I am always starting and stopping.

Each time I start, the studio is new again, unfamiliar, with new rhythms, new materials. I’m new; I have shifted again, and I pick up the thread again.

Beginning is always an exercise in revisiting what I was doing the last time, and trying to pick up the threads of my thought, to remember my intentions, to recapture my focus and think the things that were so sure before.

The thread becomes thinner and more difficult to see the longer it has been between stopping and starting. The work shape-shifts and moves. I am pulling the thread, and trying to listen, to hear my thinking from the past. I copy myself, but the copy is somehow wrong. I cannot understand, the message has become unclear.

I realize, I am playing a game of telephone with myself. I cannot hear the original message anymore, but I pick up the bits, and reinterpret the gist of what I can still hear.