Jason Jones works on paintings, sculptures, video, drawings, writings, spoken word pieces, performances, and music.
TEXT
Title: Ephesians 2 - Fade in Fade Out!
Date: June 2022 / Medium: HD Animation + Audio
It's coming around the corner, creeping seeking revenge whilst holding its own medication, broken and open to more...open for business, open for what comes next. No discrimination, everything is democratic whilst feeling a little over juiced, a little blasphemous, not fully equated with its own history or holistic path of shredded wheats. Let's stand together, lets speak intimately, not publicly, not face to face lets zoom, lets teams lets video call...why not, it's what, what is it...I've lost my train of consciousness, but I’m not losing. Let's leap straight back into it...let's not dilly dally, procrastinate or drink from the eternal cup of fools...
It was 2am, there was complete silence on the estate, even the pesky, dingy rats had retried for the evening, celebrating in their morsels of scraps gathered from number 8. Number 10 were still awake, bouncing from one empty, soulless room to the next, unable to settle, unable to fully understand their dreamless meanderings, instead opting to follow their basic human desires to simply move, one foot in front of the other, until eventually, like the rest of us, we become lampposts of history, minor monoliths of time, discarded cups of gloop, accidentally left in the garden to be occasionally slurped by the neighbour's dog, cats and over bloated birds. Derek awoke, then slumbered some more, what does this mean, what are the possible consequences of this momentary lapse into awake time?
A car horn starts to sound, breaking through the serine silence like a, like a, like, wait for it, like a greasy Greggs sausage roll being inserted into a Lego dungeon, created days ago as part of a thematic role play set in the 14th Century, only to find that the dinosaurs have consumed all the native occupants and that the call for dinner has come 30 minutes late.
Furious, yet mimicking a gymnast galloping from cartwheel to cartwheel into the accidentally burning flames of the backs! The backs were legendary, epic a wilderness, bike track and place to think...whilst convulsing with excitement at the prospect of spending quality time with my friend and yours, Psycho! When he hit the powerband you knew you were in for a splendid afternoon of tea and cakes! The sun was unbearable wasting away the swivel chairs of tic-tacking dregs of an Instagram age or time or scene or moment in a history that equates to the status of a dribble, dangling from the mouth of a genius working in a vinegar factory...we all hope of a life well spent, we all live to consume ourselves and others in the process...your methodology is not your own, amen!
