To be discombobulated is to find yourself baffled, befuddled, muddled or perplexed, in a state of confusion, and feeling disconcerted. A colloquial term and a perfect word to describe growing-up with a lot of noise that bounced around the walls of my crowded, large family unit, based on the east coast of the wild, Yorkshire landscape.
The word ‘bobulate’ is said to have no etymological origin and, thus, has a nonsense quality that supports its meaning. And the round, bouncy sound of the word reflects its ability to absorb and resist stress, unlike the term fracture, which sounds like its meaning, sharp and sudden, which breaks or snaps in the face of stress.
I find myself using the word discombobulate all the more of late, as the volume of Big data dominates the marketplace. Afraid my mind may become a perpetual snowstorm, like the white noise of the TV transmission when it used to end, in my half-life in the studio, I turn over the notion of feeling discombobulated. Generating artistic processes that explore the digital as matter, in the attempt to recombobulate myself; if only momentarily, I give form to the data’s shadow, which has reflected off the surface of the shallow screen and lurks behind my eyes.