Michael Jones is asleep. “Serial Condition” begins / opens here: Thinking about Schrodinger’s Cat [alive / dead] in the box + all the things we don’t know / every mystery / that compels us to thought. Because we will always find ourselves filling the empty space[s] with versions of what could be + what could not, exploring the possibilities always already occupying the blank space [empty + full simultaneously] hereafter referred to as a “blank hole.” Recalling Gilles Deleuze [again]:
The painter has many things in his head, or around him, or in his studio. Now everything he has in his head or around him is already in the canvas, more or less virtually, more or less actually, before he begins his work. They are all present in the canvas as so many images, actual or virtual, so that the painter does not have to cover a blank surface, but rather would have to empty it out, clear it, clean it.
[“Francis Bacon: The Logic of Sensation” p. 86]
[To be continued…]