Jason Wilder

I learned a new word this week while listening to the always fantastic Graphic Ear on WAYO. The guest, Chris Jones, brought up the word frisson, a psychophysiological response to rewarding stimuli. I thought that was just something everyone experienced, but studies say otherwise. I cannot imagine not having this ability (my word). Some bands give me this whenever I listen to them, whether live or through some sort of media. I get it all the time while watching a movie or a great tv show.

Recently we found an oil painting while in Lewiston, NY. After sifting through some over priced jazz albums, I looked up, saw the painting, got goosebumps, saw the incredible price and purchased the painting. It is now hung in our hallway. We see it everyday.

I used to get frisson while making photographs, whether candid or posed. I’d see or anticipate something happening and get chills. I knew it was then to make a photo. The photo below is one of those candid instances.

Sometimes, while sitting at home, I look out windows and get a burst of goosebumps because there’s a cool cloud, when the sky looks incredible blue.

So, this morning, like a frisson junky looking to get my fix, I rolled out of bed and took off on foot this morning to go for a little walk to Javas to restock on coffee beans in hopes some frisson would happen. There were very few people out doing anything interesting to photograph and I’m not that fond of my own observational photography. I guess it’s probably one of those instances where familiarity breeds boredom. Also, I’m addicted to the idea of making photographs that cannot be made again by me, or anyone else. I tried though.

After accomplishing my errand, I went to Greenwood Books for a literary fix only to find them closed, which is cool. Everyone needs a break now and then. Then I walked to the new-ish RIT Art Space to check out the zine fair. I left feeling equally influenced/ecouraged and disappointed. First there were some amazing zines there. I find it amazing what people can do with ink and paper. The possibilties are endless. I got to see Tate Shaw, whose artistic mind I’m in awe of. I also enjoyed the LGBTQIA2S+ zine makers and their zines. They were also the kindest of the vendors as well. While their creations are not really intended for someone like me to be their audience, I recognize how their life experiences shows up in their ability to create thoughtful and challenging zines while not just conforming to some popular, yet boring, aesthetic. They didn’t have to engage with me but they did and I appreciated that. For instance, the table that had work by PHAGS, was pretty incredible. They had something to say and were challenging in how they said that. Their zines had a bit a 90s geocities Gregg Araki vibe with a pinch of the situationist movement, which I enjoyed. Those kids are definitely alright.

My only regret is that I wasn’t able to talk to those vendors more. More times than I would have liked, a conversation was interrupted by someone or another literally boxing me out of what I was attempting to view. It happened so much I just gave up. I think the repeated offenders really do a disservice to the vendors/artists when they act this way, whether they are monopolizing the artists or the space. I found this to be a budding problem whenever I go to a First Friday exhibit that I pretty much stopped going. But, I guess, that is more of a me problem, than a you the reader problem.

Despite the annoyances, Tate, PHAGS, Zaftig, and Michelle Moode all specifically inspired me so much with their work that my walk home and afternoon had my brain spinning, encouraging me to progress some of those already started projects just waiting for me and to start others that I have been neglecting.