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Oct 8, 2009

Jul 22, 2009

Language of Branches



Inside the rough blanket I lay, rings of silk, skin, flesh and bone: years under a weave of purple bark.



Roots, branches, spread deep into the night, drinking black oxygen from empty corners.



Nothing is missing in those shadows, in the soft covers next to me or the light outside the door.



The emptiness is filled with a buoyant impulse to siphon water and minerals and light through my core.



It is a mysterious heartbeat: a decision to let the soft machinery of life do its work, to not interfere with some idea that it should be different, with some belief in time or loneliness.

They are the same unrest anyways.


Jul 21, 2009

Secret Parlor.







For many years I have had this interest in making art out of poetry. It used to be a gnawing desire that seemed a little absurd, possibly even unhealthy. I gave it up after many failures and a year of art school. I began incorporating text into art with little regard to its legibility. This still seemed absurd to me, as if things to be looked at and things to be read are intrinsically separate. Doesn’t the art distract from the text? Doesn’t the text distract from the art? Well, after making art out of text for a few years, doing research about other artists using text, and having several identity crises that my professors and classmates shored me up out of, I realize it’s a legitimate venture. More importantly, it doesn’t matter…I like it. So now that school is out of the way, I am back at it. It is rough! I deemed it impossible for a while…reading and looking are just too hard to combine. But then I came to my senses and decided it would be OK if all my attempts turned out awful, I should just make even more of them. Then things began to get interesting. I like the second and third page of this the best and I want to keep playing around with it to make the text more incorporated into the visual composition.

Jul 9, 2009

Elsewhere


Here are some close-ups of the installation I did in the Evergreen woods. The whole line read:
light slanted between trees, the wind was elsewhere and only the rain spoke


I have been told that the rain has fallen, unfortunately I am still recovering from this Achilles rupture and can't go fix it. I will take the whole thing down when I am well enough to.


Original photos by Nicholas Bardonner

Jul 6, 2009

Language and Wire



So, I was trying to figure out how to have text floating inside translucent fabric trees when I started making these wire sculptures. The words I chose to juxtapose the elements of nature with the elements of humanity. It's all the same to me: pajamas...lichen, wind...laughter.




None of them really looked that good inside the fabric but I was pretty enamored with them. These are a few close-ups of one that I played with in Irafanview, which is a free photo editing software. It isn't photoshop, that's for sure, but who can afford Photoshop upon graduating?




I think if I were a photographer I would make things just to photograph them...the close-ups are way more interesting than the sculptures themselves.
Anyway, I tore my achilles before I could figure out the tree sculptures and haven't gotten back to it.