The more we are threatened, fragile, vulnerable, the more we renounce freedom in favor of an expanding necessity. Observing others then who laugh at risk, who venture on paths from which we have turned back, we feel envy; they are courageous where we are timid. We come close to despising ourselves, but recover quickly, can [...]
Entries from February 2009
February 20, 2009
Won’t You Be My Neighbor
Jay and I were given the opportunity to pursue an art project with the motel families on Aurora Ave and furthermore the space to exhibit whatever we created.
Thus the grueling conversations that ensued between Jay and I in trying to figure out how to do an art project with this demographic of people.
I got heated. [...]
February 16, 2009
My Heart Painted by Cy Twombly
His work gives me the pee sensation…It is so primitive, childish and wonderfully crude that I want to climb a mountain and yodel, naked.
But I won’t. Instead, Cy’s work will be my muse for this week…
February 13, 2009
Whiskers On Kittens
This is the first scene of Dancer in the Dark, wait till after the intro around 3 minutes and 20 seconds and you shall find Bjork singing songs from the musical, A Sound of Music (how I love thee, Julie Andrews).
During the 5 minute mark, Bjork belts out a few notes from “My Favorite Things” [...]
February 6, 2009
There’s A Dog Inside, But Must You Hide?
What would you say, if
I,
Pulled the curtains,
the heavy, dense drapery,
Back from it’s restful spot
What would you say, if
I,
Also had a sarcophagus behind
Awaiting the chisel, to emerge
The skeletons of Deny
What would you say, if
I,
Then took you into a damp, theatrical play
Where I act out my every lie,
My every defense before Scrutiny’s beam
What would you say, if
I,
Crawled [...]
February 3, 2009
To Be A Fe-Man
An animal’s actions are concerned with its future and the future of its young, but only man imagines the future: the beaver’s dam is extended in a time-realm, but the planted tree is rooted in the world of time, and he who plants the first tree is he who will expect the Messiah.
Martin Buber, [...]
