It happens, a website goes down and, along with it, the readership hours, article writing, comments, thoughts, images, debates, mistakes and good will it contains. It happened to me, recently. ‘Loopedosity’ is no more.

I sighed some grief for about a week, then started on this new website. Nevertheless, along with losing my previous website, I basically lost the database attached to it. I would, therefore,  be very thankful if you wouldn’t mind rejoining the email list to receive monthly reminders of the latest content. If you’ve not joined before, then feel assured this simple act of support goes a long way.

Without the old database, it also means there are only a few of the old articles included on this new site.

With the capacity to go digging for particular articles I will, however, from time to time extract an old article and re-present it. If there is an article you feel deserves the light of day once more, then please let me know. Recommendations will be greatly appreciated, just leave them in the comment section below.

In addition to this, if you know of an exhibition or an art event that you wonder what my take on it might be, even if it is your exhibition, then please recommend this, as well. I’m not exactly sure how or if this will work, but I like the idea and will give it a good go if others are also into it.  A brief responses will be published in ‘Other Occasions’.

New categories added to this website include Food fellow artists make. To save myself the dreariness of yet another tinned-tomato on spaghetti type dinner, this section will include recipes by fellow artists.

Loopedosity, then, is now just one of a number of categories on this new website. This first Loopedosity article is fittingly loopedacious in the way it includes an external image of the website inside itself.

Some associate this direct type of looping back without any necessary engagement with that which is other to the source, as a form of self-consciousness. Accordingly, it is thought we cary an image of ourselves in ourselves through which we recognise (or mis-recognise) our actions. I don’t subscribe to this notion of self-consciousness. Rather, to me, it seems more like sleep. Without involvement with others we can know nothing of ourselves, there can be no intersubjective space.

With your readership, then, might this new website wake up.

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