@downabeatnpath is a conceptual art project built entirely on instagram by annika hagen in 2014. It is designed to flow as one long prose piece of writing that can be read in the comments section of each corresponding visual image. the story is to be read chronologically as one scrolls through the feed from top to bottom, beginning to end (not present to past but vice versa). this means the entire account had to be built from the bottom backward so that it would flow as one constant story.

WOMAN!!
WOMAN!!
🔻 WAKE UP !
🔻 WAKE UP !
🔻 You do not remember Where you are;
🔻 You do not remember Where you are;
🔻 though you slept there.
🔻 though you slept there.
🔻 On the side of a freeway,
🔻 On the side of a freeway,
🔻 of a town built Not for them
🔻 of a town built Not for them
🔻 but for the motel maids to live and make your Beds
🔻 but for the motel maids to live and make your Beds
🔻 and cook your eggs in pink and mirrored Breakfast lounges; stained with 60 years of faces;
🔻 and cook your eggs in pink and mirrored Breakfast lounges; stained with 60 years of faces;
🔻 Leaving traces of their fatigued asses in the vinyl benches they despise.
🔻 Leaving traces of their fatigued asses in the vinyl benches they despise.
🔻Water down her Early-morning red-eye, She has to drive soon.
🔻Water down her Early-morning red-eye, She has to drive soon.
🔻Though now she lies in sheets tucked in around the sides. And before the wake-up call, sliding images stir from below the bowels of her flickering eyes.
🔻Though now she lies in sheets tucked in around the sides. And before the wake-up call, sliding images stir from below the bowels of her flickering eyes.
🔻 Cold winds steal her breathless mornings. as brisk breezes glide her vessel of solitary indulgence down the comforts of an icy road.
🔻 Cold winds steal her breathless mornings. as brisk breezes glide her vessel of solitary indulgence down the comforts of an icy road.
🔻 Dark clouds dive like dusk through her dreams with the onset of her compulsion.
🔻 Dark clouds dive like dusk through her dreams with the onset of her compulsion.
🔻 Her compulsion to be free. To leave in her wake the frayed towels and old, cracking motel bathroom tiles; to dispose of all her latching ties.
🔻 Her compulsion to be free. To leave in her wake the frayed towels and old, cracking motel bathroom tiles; to dispose of all her latching ties.
And in the middle of her hurried sleep, shuttering blinds leak voices from the back-lot mumblings of night.
And in the middle of her hurried sleep, shuttering blinds leak voices from the back-lot mumblings of night.
🔻 And although a dream is whizzing at a hundred miles, she is still, in bed, as Hakken-Kraks howl and hide outside.
🔻 And although a dream is whizzing at a hundred miles, she is still, in bed, as Hakken-Kraks howl and hide outside.
🔻 And all that washes up from sleep, she has stashed, as though a dream, in the cleansing of this drifting tide.
🔻 And all that washes up from sleep, she has stashed, as though a dream, in the cleansing of this drifting tide.
🔻 GET UP ! Get In The Car AND DRIVE !
🔻 GET UP ! Get In The Car AND DRIVE !
🔻 Stay not a night or two, pass through! Under a shroud of cloud covered, blue sky
🔻 Stay not a night or two, pass through! Under a shroud of cloud covered, blue sky
🔻 Fill up your gas and pass, through: Past Bear Creek
🔻 Fill up your gas and pass, through: Past Bear Creek

The purpose of this art project is to reflect on the stream of images we are fed daily via the internet. The web draws us out like a highway stretching our attention spans as we move through each of our days. Our mental receptors spin with images, like the arrivals and departures board in airports, clicking and clacking with each change, moving so fast at times that nothing registers. I felt Instagram would be the most appropriate place to explore this artistic regenerating of used thoughts and visual constructs. Considering what a beautiful tool it is for fulfilling a deeper connectivity of its users over other social media platforms. I am hoping this piece connects and resonates with its viewers. I take zero credit for any of the images represented in this feed. I have merely repurposed them with excessive filters and croppings to disguise their original qualities. I want them to speak of visual concepts over photographic excellence. I have taken all of the images off of the online platform via google image searches. I found the photos by generating searches from each corresponding phrase of "Down a Beat'n Path", a piece of poetic prose that I wrote when I was 17 years old and on my first solo road trip. I drove alone in January from Vancouver to San Francisco. Through Grant's Pass in a blizzard. I wrote this on my lap while driving. At 36 reflecting on this now I'm incredibly lucky to be alive. I could probably say that in reference to many things I've done. Personal details aside, this is a story that speaks to anyone, anywhere about any path they are on. And as you peruse this feed please consider the fleetingness of it all, of all of it. Each word, each image, each thought you have as a result. Meditate on the artistic resonance of just that. How each creative expression often comes down to the credit, the pay out, the ego. Our egos drive us down these roads that we hope will get us somewhere. With this I am going nowhere. I intend on attaining nothing but the expression itself. The credit is the universe's. I have tried to be respectful in this undertaking, and not blatantly taken a photo to which credit was attached. In my google searches I chose and am borrowing images to which no credit was attached where I found it. If anything here belongs to you, I do sincerely apologize and hope that you can forgive me for the sake of this statement. Down a Beat'n Path challenges us to revoke our egos and let go of control. The sea of images, the blaring lights we stare down for long portions of our days, the whirring pages passing under our fields of vision like wet pavement, all these metaphors combine to create a journey that sits in our minds more like a mood than any distinct memory. We will forgot the names of the people we met along the trip but the feelings, the fleeting sensations will keep a vivid path in our mental receptors beaten down. You will scroll down this feed and feel like you've been here before.