Tweet

Herakles to Vajrapani, to Shukongōshin. Hadda to Tarim Basin, to Fūjin. Ushas to Aprhodite. Everything’s malleable, even the gods. They are formed reverently, heroically, in their homelands. They jolt and clatter in palanquins and on sweaty backs, and arrive wholly unimportant. They’re given new names to wear and new clothes to tell their stories. What is it to speak of the essence of something sacred? The word falls apart in the face of this infinite concept. They were wrapped in carpets like these, you know, to protect them. They could never have imagined the true dangers from which they needed shelter. It will happen to the gods of today too. It already has. Look at the almighty telecommunications deity. Formed by the patron god, Alexander Graham Bell, it has gone from switchbox to rotary dial, to microscopic plastic bits that hook over the worshipper’s ear. The gods of moving images and central processing units have suffered similar fates. There is no wrapping them in wool, these gods. No stopping the insatiable appetite of worshippers under the spell of globalization’s sermons.

Tags: acrylics collage island6 LED Liu Dao multimedia painting RGB video