scarletbird

Archive for 2010|Yearly archive page

Art Blog

In art on June 1, 2010 at 9:50 pm

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.

mbrotherton.wordpress.com

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.

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The Insides

In Uncategorized on May 26, 2010 at 12:27 am

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.

Installation Finished

In art on May 25, 2010 at 11:55 pm

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.

A Poem; to the Ringleader

In Poetry and Literature on March 9, 2010 at 2:46 am

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.

Francesca Woodman

In Other Artists on January 18, 2010 at 4:54 am

"no tears for now, Maxime"

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

“Him A Man”

In Poetry and Literature on January 13, 2010 at 7:09 am

“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