The Seven Pillars of Wisdom


Wisdom hath builded her house she hath hewn out of seven pillars.
Book of Proverbs 9:1

To be sure, there are more than seven pillars (propping up the glass canopy) on Bell's Bridge across the River Clyde in Glasgow. There are more like twenty or so, and they're cuboid too and not cylindrical which makes them perfect for my audacious exi-stencils which I routinely spray upon them once a week in an effort to 'respond' to society and give my voice a body. I am wary of publishers, always have been, so I enforce the DIY rule, and publish my work myself. Publishers like to think of themselves as a productive team with a variety of skillsets who can finetune and distribute your work better than you can. I disagree. Publishers are, largely, parasites who take your work and profit from it after they have pawed at it and altered its originality. I have always wanted to publish my work without the need to swim through a sewer, or jump through hoops of fire. Publish in the same way as a hillside stream 'publishes' its water or a plant publishes its flower thus allowing people to fall upon it spontaneously, by accident, and marvel at its vitality.

I'm not a fan of the glitter and the polish and the artifice but instead prefer the raw and the crude and the original. I don't like to sell, but prefer to share. This is why I'm stencilling this bridge: firstly because it is a bridge and a 'span that conjoins two opposing sides'. As far as this is concerned the bridge is not just a practical structure across which one can fare one's way but also a symbol of wisdom itself insofar as 'it joins and unites two opposing sides'. To quote Francois Julien from In Praise of Blandness, 'Wisdom consists in perceiving that opposites, far from being sequestered in their exclusive individuality, ceaselessly modify and communicate with each other. The one never transpires but in the response to the other...' Thus the bridge can be seen as 'the One' who facilitates the correspondence of 'opposites' (simultaneously dispelling duality) by responding and acknowledging the other. In a time when everyone seems incapable of response (and spontaneity), this symbol (and practice) of responding to and acknowledging the other could not be more urgent. Moreover, the fact that the bridge spans a great river - the River Clyde - further reinforces the reality of the One, since a river springs from a source which it then returns to in order to spring once again. The river is wisdom incarnate in other words, as is the bridge if seen without preconceived ideas and definitions.

Then, secondly, but perhaps more importantly, there is the openness of this 'gallery' across the river, and the wind (if not the rain) ventilating my work with its own signature. There are only pedestrians here and people can see it freely without having to enter through a gift shop, and without having to stand two feet back. Most of my work has been erased by graffiti removal guy at some point, and some of it has been responded to spontaneously by passers-by who have written remarks upon it or who have sparked up a conversation whilst I'm putting them up. This is another aspect that I admire: the ability to respond to a work that is open and everchanging, ever transforming, even if that response means its complete erasure.

So, there you have it: openness-sharing, interaction-transaction, spontaneity-response. With Glasgow's Ganges as gallery attendant.

What finer place then to display your work?




































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