I got another WordPress, it’s for my art. My most up-to-date art area. Un-edited, uninhibited; just a bunch of stuff I’ve been doing, (hopefully) updated weekly.
I’m hoping to make a website collective of my work from the past few years, including recent stuff. For now my less current work is located here.
For the last week and a half, I have been dissecting a cat soaked in preservative with my Anatomy/Physiology class. I’m convinced it’s one of the most fascinating experiences I will encounter. It’s really incredible to see the depths of a living thing. It feels like an adventure every time we reopen the soggy yellow bag and reveal something new. I find that the word “interesting” is the most appropriate word, it is just an incredibly interesting experience seeing the insides.
I have been documenting each day with photographs, click here for more.
I finished an installation this afternoon.
It’s located about on a ceiling beam in a Canyon Crest art room.
I am elated that this piece is completed, as I have spent off and on about 3 weeks hovering above a classroom on a ladder to install it. It’s made up of cut paper from various books, a frame, and the phrase “Art will save you, if you fall”. I’m pretty content with it although if it didn’t involve climbing a ladder I would probably never stop working on it.
Thanks VanLier.
The ring leader said,
Go home and listen
Listen to the night.
And let it absorb you-
Then, you will find truth.
I doubt it’s that clear.
I am young, lying, and born in a hospital.
I went to visit there, the ring, then here;
to this concrete building in suburbia.
I am the only contortionist in the circus.
The small spaces lead to smaller spaces,
More minimal, then I walk out of the ring,
Down the steps, out the tent, and I come to the dirt,
The dirty road, where I walk to this building and write this page:
It’s quite simple to know what is true for you or me at my age.
And I guess I’m not
what they feel and hear.
Ring leader I hear you:
hear me, hear me-listen-you and me, we talk on this page.
(I hear you) Me-who?
Well, I see to eating, sleeping, drinking, and being able to love.
I find food, sleep, drink, and a ring leader.
I find an ache for small places,
Or aches for the circus.
I guess being flexible doesn’t make me find
The same things others find who are brittle.
So will my page be flexible that I write?
Being me, it may crumble.
But it will be
Supple, ring leader.
The truth can change-
yet as a part of me, as I am a part of the night.
This is my circus.
Sometimes perhaps you don’t listen to the night.
Nor do I listen to the truth.
As I learn from truth,
I guess you learn from me.
Although I contort-and ache-
I am part of the night.
And the night is true.
This is my page for the ring leader
I wrote this poem over a year ago and just stumbled upon the original. It was vaguely modeled from some poem that I can’t recall. I suppose it’s an autobiography of sorts.
she jumped January 19th 1981
“things had been bad, there had been therapy, things had gotten better, guard had been let down.”
From the time I first saw samples of her work on the coffee table in the basement, until forever, I have absorbed, and will continue to absorb muse from both her work and her story.
For a personal inspection.
What you need beyond a doubt,
Is just a good example.
One of your friends, o chosen ones,
To give a proper example,
Among the thorns which grow on the Hilcrest,
Sweet little blossom, student of students,
Happy one, ‘go, you Shirl.’
-Robert J. Brotherton
“Fate slow him, but he did not drop;
She felled-he did not fall-
Impaled him on her fiercest stakes-
He neutralized them all.
She stung him, sapped his firm advance,
But, when her worst was done,
And he, unmoved, regarded her,
Acknowledged him a man.”
-Emily Dickinson
