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A
diary is made usually for private contemplation without the
intent to be offered to the public. The day is written into
words as an attempt to keep the days of the year from passing
without a notice. Fifty-two Mondays can pass, and you might
not have any recollection of them. Weekdays are more than just
time to pass between weekends, and weekends more than time to
pass between weekdays. With a weekday at least there is the
assumption, when it is all looked back upon at the end, of waking
early for work. Each day is its own adventure, limited only
by the particulars of the life being lived. And often those
are only a slim excuse.
The Duke of Harringay, also known as Alistair Fitchett, offers
his daily
diary of 1999 on the Tangents
site. However each day is remembered not as words, but as a
collage of found objects from the day--from postal stamps to
store receipts. The day is written out as a picture, literally
pasted onto the page. As most diaries of words spell out the
private moments of a day into an often garish display of words,
the visual diary keeps its secrets to itself. It offers itself
as pieces to a puzzle for the viewer. As much as words communicate,
they can also suffer from saying too much. In age where public
confession has become commonplace, the visual diary succeeds
because it does not say too much. There are some things that
should be left unexplained. Fitting all of life into little
compartments of neatly organized days pushes mystery to the
side. And if magic can be found in shreds of paper pasted to
a page, then magic can be found in all parts of the day.
Matthew
Patrick, April 1999
Collage by Alistair Fitchett |
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