Kamila Sipika

I often indulge, even without thinking, in the looping activities of daily posting and sharing of information and images on social networks such as Instagram. In the paintings I do not present these activities exactly, rather I reach for the simplest representation of behaviour: copy-paste, repeat, copy-paste, repeat, copy-paste, repeat. Patterns are produced by a commonly available online generator and then manipulated and translated onto canvas. Each of the paintings in this series presents repetitions of shapes on a mirror-image basis, which paradoxically allow for certain deviations considering both precision and errors. Infinite pattern generation has its pros and cons. New elements are created continuously and the machine is never short of ideas and inspiration, which is exciting. On the other hand, the alternatives proposed by the machine are excellent but cold. They are the result of an artificial synthesis that has nothing to do with authenticity or with traditional methods of learning passed down from generation to generation.

I often indulge, even without thinking, in the looping activities of daily posting and sharing of information and images on social networks such as Instagram. In the paintings I do not present these activities exactly, rather I reach for the simplest representation of behaviour: copy-paste, repeat, copy-paste, repeat, copy-paste, repeat. Patterns are produced by a commonly available online generator and then manipulated and translated onto canvas. Each of the paintings in this series presents repetitions of shapes on a mirror-image basis, which paradoxically allow for certain deviations considering both precision and errors. Infinite pattern generation has its pros and cons. New elements are created continuously and the machine is never short of ideas and inspiration, which is exciting. On the other hand, the alternatives proposed by the machine are excellent but cold. They are the result of an artificial synthesis that has nothing to do with authenticity or with traditional methods of learning passed down from generation to generation.

Infinite pattern generation has its pros and cons. New elements are created continuously and the machine is never short of ideas and inspiration, which is exciting. On the other hand, the alternatives proposed by the machine are excellent but cold. They are the result of an artificial synthesis that has nothing to do with authenticity or with traditional methods of learning passed down from generation to generation.

Stare into the maxed out brightness of the screen or the sun shape, withholding the gaze the surrounding immediately becomes darker and with closing eyes, the optical echo of the screen will remain. Focused on the afterimage that arises from the residual activity, retaining light after the source is gone. The paintings are generated images of such a situation's memories. And as painting medium is flattened, reproduced, edited, and distributed across multiple systems and devices, the blur posses its metaphorical dimension.

Stare into the maxed out brightness of the screen or the sun shape, withholding the gaze the surrounding immediately becomes darker and with closing eyes, the optical echo of the screen will remain. Focused on the afterimage that arises from the residual activity, retaining light after the source is gone. The paintings are generated images of such a situation's memories. And as painting medium is flattened, reproduced, edited, and distributed across multiple systems and devices, the blur posses its metaphorical dimension.

Afterimage

Afterimage

Łąka

The post-rain releases here an earthy scent. The damp grass whips the feet violently, leaving marks on the flesh, while nettle rash spreads throughout the body as a soft sensation reaches the chest. The only source of nutrition is dew and sweat on the upper lip. Fucking, sleeping, and growing. Time after the storm counts much slower. Yet new grown seeds begin to germinate under the fingernails. Population of the garden peer out among the grass. Either as some kind of fungal net or like-reptile tail. Dance macabre on the foreskin. Shaved, sweated and shocked. During early fall you participated and you directed the event. Stepped into the role of a view-catcher. Particularly given the theme of “development".Besides the leafless tree, the representation of clocks going back and forth. And a chair with the honeycomb-paint sticked to its leg was slowly swaying.Memory of that day, could not be forgotten. As the chair definitely was suppose to fall at least once. This situation does not possess a conventional narrative arcs The observer is the fly. A spy of the whole, who provokes a sense of dread beside the fruition of how little we understand about the seasons. Its diversity happens to make a friction. A self-destructive cannibalistic world. Where whatever one says, just after the sense, comes nonsense and diminishment. As an intruder into one’s own intellectual game. Not wanting to suppress the cynicism and irony. Yet taking the position of pre-text pre-weaponed pre-concerned pervert. With philodendrons’ smell and mud, soon to be covered with a yellowed leafs The Autumn Crocus has a rather unusual life cycle in that the colourful flowers blossom as its name suggests, in early fall. The plant referenced in the Egyptians’ Ebers Papyrus, the oldest known medicinal document. Thirty-five centuries later, still found in modern pharmacopeia. The field filled with bodies and the Autumn Crocus seems to create certain symbiosis. It occurs in a world that has changed beyond recognition.The post-human biotope could be teeming with new artificial or augmented biochemical life. Genetically modified organisms, hybrid technologies, and autonomous intelligent systems.On the basis of synergy, they are all sharing resources, habitats, and information in an open and inclusive manner.Approaching the land of rotting, you start to smell a decaying compost.The result of liberation and experimentation.The battle to let go the previous season’s vision of artificially nourished nature.

From "The Persistent Afterimage"

From "The Persistent Afterimage"

Excerpt from DaisyWorldMagazine; text "Rotting Land"