Repetition is a form of change. I had a lot of trouble remembering this line. I kept thinking "Repetition is a means of change." This is over a week late for P00n's event, mostly because it just took longer to prepare than I'd thought it would.

I started by drawing a repeating line of roses along 39 meters of cash register receipt paper. I wanted to show that by doing the same thing many times, an entirely different result would be produced. After taking a look at the finished strip of paper, I decided that it didn't seem multi-dimensional enough. (OK, so for some reason, I thought that a one dimensional line of drawing might have a little more depth.)

Inspired by YellowBear's DIY audiobook, I copied the first two sections of T.S. Eliot's poem, "The Wasteland", onto the strip of paper among the roses. I won't pretend to get all of the allusions and references in this poem, but I like it a lot anyways. One part that sticks in my mind is the syllable, "Da," that the thunder speaks. The syllable is repeated three times, but each time it stands for a different concept---charity, compassion, and (self)-control. (My alternative, more cynical interpretation of the phrase is that you can end up controlling others if you first give to them and sympathize with them.) The poem also ends with a repetition, "shantih, shantih, shantih." This repetition is a sort of ritual ending, and Eliot translates it as "the peace which passeth understanding."

I deployed the strip of repetition onto a railing along a bridge near the Alewife subway stop. As I was installing it, the rumbling of passing trucks made the entire bridge shake, reminding me of thunder. I watched people walking along the bridge for a while. Mostly, they didn't even glance at the installation, but a few stopped and read some of it. I checked back 12 and 24 hours later, and most of the strip is still up, although a 1 ft section is missing. The paper has already yellowed from being out in the sun, but I'm happy to have injected some poetry onto an otherwise boring bridge.

I check back at 36 and 48 hours and repaired some wind damage. On the third day, we had a brief storm that washed off most of the marker, so I cleaned up all the pieces. Life, art, all ephemeral!