A couple of posts ago I said that the most important aspect of my work is time rather material or labor. Now I'm not so sure. Tonight, as I made countless slow, meditative circular motions with my hand to rub coffee ground paste into a piece of cloth, I revisited that decision in my thoughts. Perhaps the material is of little consequence. It doesn't matter whether its dyeing and drying sand, then sifting it back into its fine texture, pouring identical little piles of sand, or neatly arranging sand into smooth rows. It doesn't matter whether its carefully pressing rice paste into fabric to make a pattern or rubbing coffee into fabric to stain it. Clay, sand, newspaper, cardboard, coffee, cotton, rice, flour are all simply materials. Materials that outside of the context of art are not regarded very highly. Labor (the time, process, and effort I exert) is the agent that turns these humble materials into art.
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