Humid density in my head and an urge to do something about it, brings coffee on the table. Not hot, but drenched in ice and soaked in a shot of sugary milk. It is a change – a drastic one – from the typical strong and hot blackness that usually fuels caffeine-addicted body. One could ask about the reasons for this change, but those are probably unimportant.
Not being used to stirring the coffee, unexpected spillages appeared on the surface underneath. Due to personal indifference and lethargy, the stains remained on the table. The seemingly undissolving sugar forced further and stronger action, which resulted in additional liquid splashing on the white surface.
Gradually the action on the table seemed to take on a life of its own. The repetition of picking up the glass and returning it, had started to create shapes and forms of continuously changing fluids. By chance and without any intent, my coffee had become an action painting. Perhaps it was not as wild and hypnotic as Pollock’s works, but rather more minimalistic and ordinary.
Although my coffee had developed its own will, it surely did not mean to imitate Pollock’s style. Perhaps there are certain similarities in technique, but my coffee had taken it a step further. Ordinary objects – glass, table and coffee – are the key. Isn’t that what relational art is about?
Art no longer has to be confined by a space and materials. Art can be anything – and even be useful. Besides creating art, my milky ice coffee wasn’t that bad. Art (or my coffee) redefines the relation between the object, the space it is in and myself. Obstructing the formation of any kind of rule formation, art – my spilled coffee – frees itself.
It doesn’t matter where an artist steals from, but rather where he takes it. Having developed its own action-spilling style, my coffee might just be the next sensation on the international art market. Or perhaps it is just coffee spilled on a table. Well, maybe that’s what you get when you put sugar in your coffee.