Opening next Friday, September 7th is an exhibition not to be missed: “More Awkward Than Heavy” by Ink Tank. A locally-born artist collective, Ink Tank is made up of twelve members who work collaboratively to create conceptual and interactive, installation-based art. Ink Tank won the 2011/12 “Outstanding Work of Art: Independent or Public Project” Award from the Austin Critics’ Table for their exhibition, “Last New Year.”
Experience what it means to be awkward on all levels.
Join us in celebrating the opening of MATH (More Awkward Than Heavy) on Friday, September 7th from 7-11pm. R.S.V.P. here.
Ink Tank & Friends:
Special events happenin’ all night
Ride your bike and get a special treat
Stay tuned for more experiences all month
MATH is difficult and rigid not malleable and receptive like, say, salt water taffy. MATH makes you uncomfortable with its quotidian obtuseness. Similar to reading in a dream, the story is familiar but the words are illegible, not even words sometimes but scribbles. That is what MATH is like.
I wanted to say I love you despite how sudden it seems. I mean after all you have only come into our shop once and it was just for basic diagnostic work. I bet if I covered my name-tag you would probably assume my name is something standard, like Ed or Wayne or something. MATH is severely sincere and directly direct. That is its problem. It is unabashed and flirts with the wait staff and pretty much means every word and batted lash. It does not last. A moment of unconscious oblivion snapped suddenly into sharp focus, self-analysis, then shame.
MATH has an order and a process; mechanization like a clock with gears and stuff, but all that does not matter when it functions. It is invisible perfection until a spring slips, a fail saves, and the whole thing comes to a halt. Only then does each part become important, each part a mystery among mysteries, each part becomes the saboteur, a new hope, an unrelated mess. Who designed this thing anyway? It is probably just some cheap import.
MATH is not standing naked and aroused in front of one’s peers trying to explain Pythagoras but rather it is losing car keys down a fourth grade teacher’s blouse during parent-teacher conferences. It is doing the wrong thing for the right reasons, at every opportunity. Because you and I both know I didn’t really mean I love you when I said it under my breath that day at the Lube & Tire. It just felt right at the time.