hey, this is me finally taking a break after launching this care package online exhibition that i’ve been coding for the past four days. you wouldn’t know it by looking at me, because i’m still sitting in front of my laptop in the dark with terrible posture and knitted eyebrows. but i swear, i’m off work now, even though the only indication of that is that i’ve switched to a different tab.
at my job, installation days are some of my favorite days in life. the nervous energy of people putting up wild visions and seeing a space transform in front of your eyes. learning a city by making emergency runs to hardware stores. figuring shit out with other human beings. all of this is a stark contrast from the installation days of an online exhibition, which is basically me in my pajamas eating too many carbs and not drinking enough water, only backing away when my eyes are burning from staring at pixels for too long.
this is why i pretty much backed away from curating exhibitions online, and doing internet-based work a few years ago. my favorite part of doing art is being in community, and it can be so difficult when most of it is done in front of a computer.
don’t get me wrong – it’s been a true joy reconnecting with all the artists who are a part of this new exhibition. i’m proud of the collection of artwork that has now been able to bring joy to people with the click of a button. but as i copy and paste each person’s bio, crop their headshots into neat squares, and tag them in promo posts, there’s no comparing this to the rush i get when we get to do it face to face.
in both scenarios, time flies. but one makes me want to stay in a moment forever while the other makes me wonder where the day went. back in october while working on te whāinga in auckland, it felt like a chore for me to even post anything on instagram, lest i miss a magical moment with the people who were all at arm’s length. the nights of the event, we were out in the chilly nights for so late that the online realm seemed so frivolous. today, i’ve been constantly caught in cycles of reloading apps for likes, resisting the urge to spend an hour on google analytics. but data isn’t an adequate surrogate for human connection. there’s no algorithm for a friendship born in shared laughter.
launching the care package today has made me realize how much the act of constructing something for sharing has been keeping me motivated, making me excited to get up each morning. even though it all happened online, i could at least imagine faces lighting up in front of their screens, sighs of relief for an alternative to the headlines. i’m proud and overjoyed, it’s just all being expressed in my fingertips, and it feels weird.
in the meantime, there’s this new thing out there in the world, and i’ve been getting texts and comments from people i love. maybe all this isolation is causing me to ask too much out of this regular tuesday in april. maybe i’m fine with this exhibition bringing a smile to someone’s face, even if i can’t be there to see it.