Luminous Groove.

Time is round
And space is curved.
--Robyn Hitchock

And you thought I was done going off about my visit two Sundays ago to Marie Walsh Sharpe open studios. Well not so much. I haven't even mentioned the artist that I went to see, Franklin Evans. This year is all about the space between for Franklin.


And you know me. I like the space between the grooves. I used to have the Robyn Hitchcock 12"s to prove it. Hitchcock was my first 12" EP and Single love obsession addiction. Chasing all those rare B-Sides was a kick, and there were two great record stores in Lancaster, BBC and Stan's, that helped me in my efforts. But I digress from my digression. As much as I loved the albums proper, the in-between releases--casting light in all three tenses--were just as exciting and important. At least to me. I loved the half-baked, the unfinished, the not-quite fitting, the misfires, the snapshots of where the artist was at a given time.


Franklin Evans is treating his year in the grant studio like it's one big B-Side. It's all about the process. The work is the work is the work. I like the results. Intuitive and both magical and trashy, they fill the room, skipping across the creek from one unseen stone to the next. Maybe they'll reach the other shore. Maybe not. Books of interest are stacked on a shelf between a wall that nods to Stella and a small floor outline of a thrust stage that leads the viewer to a small painting. All this framed by colored tape hanging here and there and on top of a floor covered with gallery press releases. Drawings run together on a wall, clipped by tape and scissors. Patterns form and fall apart. It's was a blast to see the arc of a year. Where it touches down will probably be just as interesting. Or not. And that's OK. In fact, it's all gold.