Artistic Statement

I’m here for you; I’m here for all of us, including myself. For reasons that have long evaded me, I see something missing in the world; or, rather, a place where something else could fit in if we all decided that we were going to make it, and this something is something I deeply want. I also have decided to live under the assumption that there are other wanters like me out there, somewhere, and that one of us has probably got to stand up and try to do something about it. The want comes from somewhere beyond nature or nurture, but once it comes, it stays.
With my creations, I satisfy the want of that wanter. The want is hard to quantify; it’s at once boredom, greed, lust, a paralyzing fear of being disinteresting things, a debilitating need to adventure, and the feeling of being cosmically unimportant. Satisfying this need is also complicated, but it can be encapsulated into the notion of an experience that satisfies all of those characteristics; something that feels exciting, adventurous, interesting, and important. These can be written off as valueless words, but when something feels important, is there really any higher praise one can give it? These are adjectives to be felt by the participant, not conjured by the critic. “What I am doing is important.” Such a practice has no common form, and manifests more as a pattern of traits; these things are never only plays, only experiences, only games, etc. but are always interactive, novel, esoteric, and very comfortable with mystique.
We’re very closed off these days, which is fine, but we’re waiting for someone to save us. I know I am. That’s the point of my art; I’m not waiting for the deus ex machina anymore. I’m coming in to the waiting room with a curtain and some poles and setting up a puppet show. Some people will stick to their magazines, and that’s OK, because they feel all right over there, but the people who never got over their delusions of grandeur in middle school (quite conveniently encapsulated as the Japanese “chūnibyō”) are welcome to come over and watch.
Put simply; I’m deeply bored and I think a lot of other people are bored in the same way, so I’m creating the thing that will fix that. The thing – the art – is formally-vague interactive experiences focused on apocrypha and esoterica that provoke new ways of thinking and hopefully make some people enjoy themselves a little bit more. Experimentation is key. I’m here to show you that there is still real magic in the world, but you either have to become a magician or get to be friends with one. Fortunately, you get to make up the spells as you go.

Connor Yokley

Artistic Statement

I’m here for you; I’m here for all of us, including myself. For reasons that have long evaded me, I see something missing in the world; or, rather, a place where something else could fit in if we all decided that we were going to make it, and this something is something I deeply want. I also have decided to live under the assumption that there are other wanters like me out there, somewhere, and that one of us has probably got to stand up and try to do something about it. The want comes from somewhere beyond nature or nurture, but once it comes, it stays.
With my creations, I satisfy the want of that wanter. The want is hard to quantify; it’s at once boredom, greed, lust, a paralyzing fear of being disinteresting things, a debilitating need to adventure, and the feeling of being cosmically unimportant. Satisfying this need is also complicated, but it can be encapsulated into the notion of an experience that satisfies all of those characteristics; something that feels exciting, adventurous, interesting, and important. These can be written off as valueless words, but when something feels important, is there really any higher praise one can give it? These are adjectives to be felt by the participant, not conjured by the critic. “What I am doing is important.” Such a practice has no common form, and manifests more as a pattern of traits; these things are never only plays, only experiences, only games, etc. but are always interactive, novel, esoteric, and very comfortable with mystique.
We’re very closed off these days, which is fine, but we’re waiting for someone to save us. I know I am. That’s the point of my art; I’m not waiting for the deus ex machina anymore. I’m coming in to the waiting room with a curtain and some poles and setting up a puppet show. Some people will stick to their magazines, and that’s OK, because they feel all right over there, but the people who never got over their delusions of grandeur in middle school (quite conveniently encapsulated as the Japanese “chūnibyō”) are welcome to come over and watch.
Put simply; I’m deeply bored and I think a lot of other people are bored in the same way, so I’m creating the thing that will fix that. The thing – the art – is formally-vague interactive experiences focused on apocrypha and esoterica that provoke new ways of thinking and hopefully make some people enjoy themselves a little bit more. Experimentation is key. I’m here to show you that there is still real magic in the world, but you either have to become a magician or get to be friends with one. Fortunately, you get to make up the spells as you go.