Sunday, September 30, 2007

No answers

"...This ? has trouble in mind: do not ask
why the wind broods, why the light is so unclean. ..."

From "?" by Randall Mann

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Sago and ribbed pots

" blurred green summer, lifted
to its apex, succumbed to gravity and fell..."

From "Blur" by Andrew Hudgins

Friday, September 28, 2007

What do you think?

I think I found a potter whose work fits for my class art analysis.

Photograph by Sally Martinez.

Alice Cling is a Navajo potter, and her work just stopped me when I saw it.

And given the tension/resonance around old methods/tradition and new simplicity/markets, between the persistence of fired clay over time and the fragility of the whole pot, I think there's a lot to dig into in her work.

Damselfly paused

"Then I came to an edge of very calm
But couldn’t stay there. ..."

From "And water lies plainly" by Laurie Sheck

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

A leg up, a leg to stand on

Unfolding myself off the airport floor, I dropped my sketchpad and purse. !@#$%^!

As I fleshed out one leg, the other moved, then she's gone.


And I need a leg up on a class assignment. As usual, I'm having trouble making up my mind.

The assignment? A critical analysis of a work of art having some connection to the topic "Time."

I keep wanting to do something with contemporary ceramics (and yes, I'm pretty drawn to Robert Arneson's self-portraits) because of the fun of a supposedly minor art's relative indestructability over time but...what do you think?

Monday, September 24, 2007

Saturday, September 22, 2007

After reading Shelly's Friday Sept. 21 post

The junkyard

I think I get it now: persona not chassis, not even
much more than a paint job, that beautiful glossy
surface we spent centuries of childhood assembling
as if the self were a prized model car, lacquer and dope
finally sanded down by time to show the surprise—
base gold—beneath. Listen: our toy trannies mewling
as the gears wear to smooth circles, our gilded pinstripes
unraveling with a hiss to run off like garden snakes in
the junkyard, molting in rust, grass-green in new skin.


Thanks for the inspiration, Shelly.

Friday, September 21, 2007

We have class project, and blog, lift-off.

Remember the bunch of ideas I had for my Liberal Arts Perspectives class final project?

I now have an okay from my professor to pursue one of them, and I'll blog about the work in progress here.

Take a look, and if you can join me in the process I'd be delighted!

A sequence of moments

Harsh light, tired people, and one bouncy curly little girl.

People moving through a hotel lobby, currents and flow reminding me of water simmering.

Too tired to draw but trying anyway -- strong Georges de La Tour light, hands cupping a PDA.

Friday, September 14, 2007

"Wish I were here"

"...Sending these postcards to the self at home:
Sunlight on pouring water..."

From "The View at Pisgah" by Howard Nemerov

(Off to sojourn in the workin' whirled, will post more Friday the 21st, will comment as I can.)

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

2 Much

A little 2 much going on with work and such to share more goodness right now.
And thus I'm a bit blue.

I'm about to lift off and travel for business, but if you have time, find me poems with colors of blue, and scatter URL trails of breadcrumbs in the comments.

That way, we'll all enjoy another kind of (happy) blue, and I'll comment back as I can!

(Sporadic posting until next Friday, but you know I can't stay away for long.)

Foley artistry

"Foley" was scrawled on the pole, so I went wandering in search of another Foley artist.

Monday, September 10, 2007


"...Think of the wren
and how little flesh is needed to make a song. ..."

From "Why Regret?" by Galway Kinnell

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Yesterday's news

"...I've seen it for myself, their genius—
how they transform the useless..."

From "Darwin's Finches" by Deborah Digges

Saturday, September 08, 2007


"...or speak in cabbage
language of the meanings within meanings..."

From "The Cabbage" by Ruth Stone

Friday, September 07, 2007

Remembering warmer seas

"...composites of limestone calculated down to the animal
that laid upon it and quietly died..."

From "Koi" by Katie Ford

Thursday, September 06, 2007


"Into the laterals and faults of strata
Whose linear seams are like memory,
Water wades its way..."

From "Two Views" by Wyatt Prunty

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Sketchy thoughts, sketchy scribbles

I'm about to embark on My First Class in Grad School, and I'm awash in ideas for a final class project. Since I can't make up my mind, I thought I'd ask all y'all's thoughts.

But first, a sketch.

People, and breakfast, and ballpoint pens!

And now, if you're so moved, please read on about my ideas and feel free to weigh in.


The course I'm taking is called Liberal Arts Perspectives.
I could do a research project, but I'm drawn to the creative effort option.

Here's the bare-bones criteria:
The Creative Effort must add to a communal understanding of Time, and needs to be accompanied by an 8-10 minute presentation that furthers my classmates' understanding of the project and its relevance/significance regarding Time.

Some of the ideas I've spawned to date:
1. Building a Never-Ending Hourglass (Some sort of Klein Bottle turned into an hourglass)
2. Making ephemeral sheets of edible gelatin "printed" with edible inks and imagery related to Time (Time as something delicate, consumable; a slight parody of art photography's gelatin print technique)
3. Reconstructing a deliberately broken bottle, then inserting and launching trackable messages, possibly including a group's imagery from their typical day (Time in a bottle, adrift)
4. Creating an "ur-candle" by melting many different ritual candles -- church votives, used candles from the local Zen Center, synagogue Sabbath candles, etc. -- and reforming them into one super-large pile of enormous candle-ness

Flat Art/Conceptual
5. Temporal maps (Using a version of topographic maps -- "steep" contour lines where Time seems to move fast, "gentle" contour lines where Time seems to move slowly)
6. A Map of Timelessness (Using others' software, map the incidence of the word "timeless" across a period of time on specific Web sites)
7. A new Book of Hours (A hand-made book containing hand-written interviews with local religious practitioners on their daily practices, with accompanying sketches of the interviewees -- and of course a blog to make the work accessible to all those I interview)
8. A small group photo-project: facilitate others' responses via digital cameras or cell phone cameras to a short series of questions, all images of which must be photographed in one 24-hour period

9. Mystically-focused, time-paradoxical poem(s)
10. Short story -- Salvador Dali meets a watchmaker who makes wax timepieces

So far I'm most drawn to the possibilities within Idea 7.
That said...what do y'all think?

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Slack, pinned

"...tourbillions in Time made
By the strong pulling of her bladed mind..."

From "On Portents" by Robert Graves

(And...I learn something new every day!)

Monday, September 03, 2007

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Flip it! Flip it good!

It's International Rock-Flipping Day!

Click above to learn more (and go flip a rock NOW) -- or click here to read the update.

If you decide to share your own rock-flipping exploits, Dave Bonta has graciously offered to be Rock-Flipping Central.

Dave wrote, "I’m willing to act as coordinator and send out a list of links that evening or the next morning, with all the HTML tags in place for people to copy and paste. Send your links to me as soon as you post: bontasaurus (at) yahoo (dot) com, with 'Rock Flipping' in the subject line."


Rock-Flipping Day Tercets

A: Right-Side Up
I turn myself over in my mind,
reveal the delicate thready roots
that lace the surface of deeper ground.

B: Upside-Down
A new way to play rock-paper-scissors:
rock sings the muse, paper scrawls poems,
scissors edits then rusts under rock.

C: Right-Side Up Again
Calciferous blanket pulled up tight
to the chins of chitinous millipedes tucked in
the cool dark, dreaming of leaf-mould and puffballs.

Saturday, September 01, 2007