Evokative Life

Beach Beach Beach

California summers have always been all about the beach, people. As a kid, it was Aptos...

fireworks at 4th of July on the beach, and the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz!

and you know, there's the labyrinth at Land's End

Steinbeck's Cannery Row in Monterey

Venice Beach where muscles rule

and 

Santa Monica, a tourist attraction alla time...

B U T

to me

nothing rivals

the Big Sur coastline

which will be closed for perhaps a year.

I will miss the Zen center.

The ride with the top down around the waving highway one.

That's what summer is to

me. 

Well, and also, PEACHES.

 

Come Summer, Then Words

My Norwegian grandma's favorite were yellow roses. Her's were heirlooms: thick trunks and upright growth with beautiful yellow roses the size of saucers. My closest ones are buttery and small. I still search for her yellow roses...

When I was younger, I lived in her home for the time I was in college. There was the comfort of familiarity and the fear of the unknown, which makes me think today that many of us are ever uncertain of what we're doing. 

When I was younger, my gay friend Patrick repeatedly photographed me. We never discussed his gayness. We were vital and alive, and laughter and common experiences were our connection. Summers were free, or more free, at least. I loved him - still think of him - and his folks, and wonder where he is all these 40+ years later....

Here is another I love, in 1953, after an especially difficult battle in the Korean War. Look. Just look. Tell me you don't love him, too. 

 

All that crochet work for the Million Woman March led me to - mmmmm - bracelets and necklaces. Like these:

Come summer, I'm hoping for words. And until then, spread joy and be kind to each other.

 

 

Wintering

The pines and cedars are stoic in their wintering. They've witnessed thousands of  storms and know winter's story inside out.

 

Thin but brilliant sunlight comes between storms. It's southern-slung, bitter and sharp.

 

They're brave, the deciduous trees, standing with skeletons exposed to damp and cold. Bits of their framework might snap and break, but come spring there will be new clothes and growth.

 

The land looks ravished and beaten; brown and sad. But these are the fields that yield produce for the hands that work the soil, and they, too, shall come back to life.

We're having a real winter with rain, wind, fog, and freezing temperatures in my part of California. It's breath-taking and starkly beautiful.

We've been saying around here that our Christmas was merry and bright, and it was all downhill from there.

That's because there was a cold that became the flu that became pneumonia that led to an intestinal virus. It's laid me out for the last 21 days - three very, very long weeks. As someone who rarely gets sick, it's been an experience that I don't care to repeat. But I've had time to watch the weather through my windows, and to feel deep gratitude for a warm bed, ginger tea, and the miracle of healing.

In this morning's darkness I see work everywhere - papers, mail, deliveries, dishes, laundry, a refrigerator to clear out. All the random pieces of life undone in the wake of illness. But those things will all wait for me, just as the trees and land will wait for spring.

And so today, on the 17th day of the new year, I plan to step lightly, finally, into 2017. Carefully. With ginger tea and a hand sanitizer in my bag, I'm on my way.

 

Olympic Opinion

Yes, I have an opinion or two about this year's summer Olympics. And maybe you do, too. 

The bidding process is long and rigorous. Back in 2007, seven cities put in their bids to be the host city for the 2016 Olympics. From those, the final four were selected - and Rio was deemed the best in terms of funding the expenses of the Olympics, housing athletes and tourists adequately, supporting the event with new venues and stadiums, AND maintaining a highly positive media exposure to carry the games.

OOPS.

There is the issue of filthy water - and here's a quote from CBC on August 3:

"Finding bodies isn't unusual. Often it's an animal. About once a week, it's a human. Decaying remains, fetid sewage and floating garbage in Rio de Janeiro's waterways are fuelling worries about water safety ahead of the Olympics. Seven years after being awarded the Olympics, the massive seaside city has only managed to decrease, but not end, the dumping of garbage and untreated sewage into its waterways.

These are the same waterways where some Olympic rowers and sailors will now compete. Worse yet, where the open-water swimmers will charge into the water to swim 10 kilometres. The best advice they've been given: Keep your mouth closed."

Hmmm.

There is the issue of doping. First up before the Olympics even began, there was Russia. The investigation of Russia's doping scandal advanced this last year, revealing a detailed a state-run doping scheme that punctured the integrity of the Olympics, seemingly upending many of the results from the 2008 Beijing Games, the 2012 London Games and the 2014 Sochi Games. And so, the entire field and track team from Russia was banned from the 2016 Olympics. (You can read the long horrible story in a New York Times article here.)

But it wasn't over yet. Now the Olympics have been plunged into yet another doping scandal, after the head of the Kenyan track and field team was caught in an undercover sting offering to tip off athletes over the timing of drugs tests.

Yikes.

After participating in the torch ceremony, a beautiful female jaguar, named Juma, was shot and killed by a soldier. I honor her grace and magnificence here, with her photo. (Read the story, here.)

Horrific.

There are questions about the shoddy construction of buildings in Olympic Village -  the Olympic Park’s massive super store loaded with souvenirs and merchandise for spectators was forced to shut down due to high winds. The store was reportedly built with large vinyl walls, which were subject to punishment from the wind, and several other temporary structures were battered around the park.

Duck and cover, anyone?

The housing problems are clear and strong on Twitter. Numerous athletes from all over the globe have been subject to haphazard or outright incomplete housing since they arrived in Rio. The Olympic Village has become a gold mine of tweets from Olympians attempting to fix up their lodgings, leaky bathrooms and all.

 Not good.

It makes it hard to enjoy to enjoy the Olympics with these issues looming, along with the security issues, and I didn't even mention Zika...

I have to wonder how Rio was considered more worthy than Tokyo, Prague, or Madrid. It's sad for Rio, it's sad for the Olympians, and it's unfortunate for the public.

I sincerely hope that future Olympic sites will not be chosen with the kind of mindlessness that landed Olympians in Rio. If there is a sewage problem  - eliminate the city! If there are enormous slums and destitute economy - eliminate the city! Pay attention, people. It isn't so hard to predict the future if you take the time to consider the depth of current situations. 

Unless, of course, there's a scandal of some sort involved in the selection process.

That's my Olympian opinion, at least.

 

 

 

 

By The Time She Was 22

Francesca Woodman lived a brief time, but left some incredible photography as her legacy. She committed suicide by jumping from a loft window in New York in 1981. But already her photographic work was on its way to becoming a strong art form.

Virtually all of her work consists of self-portraits in black and white. She explained once, “It’s a matter of convenience—I’m always available.”  But some of her work makes use of models, too.

Woodman attended the Rhode Island School of Design and traveled to Rome as part of its honors program, which proved to be a particularly prolific period. While there was little opportunity for her to show her work while she was alive, Woodman has been the subject of numerous posthumous solo exhibitions. I find her photographs haunting and often dark; always, they intrigue me.

 

In December of 2011, I saw a retrospective of her work at San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. SFMOMA expressed the lure of her photographs just beautifully: "Thirty years after her death, they continue to inspire audiences with their dazzling ambiguities and their remarkably rich explorations of self-portraiture and the body in architectural space."

By the time she was 22, Woodman had made more than 10,000 negatives and 800 prints. Of those, only about 120 prints were published or exhibited. Her depression, possibly from a broken relationship as well as difficulty in gaining recognition for her work, was noticed in late 1980 with a first suicide attempt. In January of 1981, a few months later, she succeeded in leaving this world. 

I wonder about Francesca Woodman. Now and then I come across her name, or one of her marvelous and distinctive photographs - and it always gives me pause. It's remarkable that her acclaim comes from her work as a student, and it leaves us to wonder what might have happened over the years with her art. 

To read a lovely and moving article about her photographs, see a few more of them, and learn about a film entitled The Woodmans, follow this link: The Long Exposure of Francesca Woodman. It speaks of the artist's work better than anything else I've found - and it's a good tribute to the young photographer that lingers with you after the read. 

By the time she was 22, she already made a mark on the world - one that remains for us to appreciate and enjoy. 

 

Life Interferes

Three weeks ago, I found some fuzzy blossoms. I was going to post about that.

But sometimes, life interferes.

That's Paloma. She's one of a large group of outdoor kitties brought to our community by a neighbor.

She's the docile one, and the others bully her.

So she's kind of moved over here. Sleeps on the front porch. Eats and suns on the back deck.

Old Man Stuffy likes to pretend he's a lion, hanging in the trees. I was his catsitter for a couple days.

That's beautiful Josie. She has a girl-crush on me. I was catsitting her, too.

Right now, I'm crushing on these. And if they weren't so outrageously overpriced, I'd bring them home.

I was in Phoenix on business for a week. And it was HOTHOTHOT. A dry heat, of course.

Pretty much like that. Every. Single. Day.

Rental cars are a challenge. I cannot remember the make/model, but I was 'Jetson'd' into a new era with a push-button ignition.

 

Outside my window, the quail were feeding on the barrel cactus fruit every morning.

If you fly Southwest, know this: they will text you in ample time if your flight is delayed or changed. 

AND, you'll get a $100 voucher. AND free cocktails.  At least, that's what happened to me.

And while you're in the air, track your flight with their app.

On the descent, this reservoir told me: Almost home!

Once I was home, I discovered a peanut thief ransacking the squirrel feeder!

And that night, a baby raccoon caught on camera after bathing in a make-shift bird bath!

I think I caught the most important aspects of this and the speeches were pretty incredible - at least the ones I listened to. And I must say as a woman, this pleases me to no end. In spite of her haters, she is not the criminal they'd like her to be (too-bad-so- sad.)

 

And so, the busy world keeps spinning, and there are places to go, appointments to keep, and things to do.

Looking forward to what August might bring, and hoping life won't interfere so much this month.

That's all my story, pretty much, and I'm stickin' to it!

 

Sketchbook Heaven

Sisters, Joe Carreon, 2007

Do you have a sketchbook? If you have one, it probably won't be your one and only one. Once people step beyond the formal concept of sketching in a sketchbook, the sketchbook comes to life. A life of its own. That might include paint. And photos. And words. And multi-media techniques. 

Yellow Torso, Joe Carreon, 2006

I love the rich, unique work of Joe Carreon. I can't tell you much about him, except that you can look at his work on Flickr, and see how some of his sketchbook art looks. 

Self Portrait, 'Ready To Start', Juliana Coles, 2008

One of my favorite artists who is magic with sketchbook art is Juliana Coles. She's got a portfolio full of amazingly powerful and profound pieces of work. She also teaches art. While her work is more aptly called visual journaling, it seems to me like impressive sketchbook work. (And that makes visual journaling a little less intimidating, I think). Take a look at her Flickr feed for immediate inspiration, and consider a purchase from her Etsy Shop if you fall in love, like I did.

Sketchbook, Gouache, by Cathy on Flickr

A simple search on Flickr will actually connect you with lots of photos of sketchbooks that people are creating. Above, a wonderful example of using a sketchbook for something beyond pencil sketches, by a person named Cathy, that I found with a simple search. I really love that spread.

I have some big, fat, thick art journals. But they aren't loaded with just art. There is some collage, paint, sketches, yes; but also photos, clippings from newspapers, words, examples of things - and they include years of stuff that caught my interest enough to move me to visually journal them. So recently, I took myself on a little tour of those. I altered the covers and backs, but I know this: at purchase, they were called sketchbooks.

Which led me to The Sketchbook Project!

It is a crowd-sourced library of over 35,000 sketchbooks from more than 150,000 creative folks in more than 100 countries around the world. It's a virtual world of online sketchbooks, and also a storefront exhibition in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY at the Brooklyn Art Library. Check this out! Why? Because the website has challenges- which are really calls for submissions. And many digital sketchbooks available to view. And it also has supplies and materials and...oh! It is something of an amazement to me. And I'm planning to participate in one of the submission themes for 2017.

Wanna come along? Check out the website: https://www.sketchbookproject.com/ to read about and see the library; find out how to participate yourownself; and read all about the movement. 

Meanwhile, I've got a fresh new sketchbook on my table waiting to be adorned with marks. And you have your assignment, should you choose to accept it. As always, I welcome your input: send photos of your sketchbooks! We can create a mini virtual gallery here (with proper credit, of course, unless you're shy, which is fine, too). Looking forward to seeing your creations - and making some of my own in the middle of summer over here on the West Coast.

 

 

Abstract Mood

Elements, 2011; Tessa Houghton

Recently I've been writing a lot of posts about abstract art. But not just any or all abstract art. I'll have to study this, because it's a rather new lure for me. And among the artists whose work is making me swoon right now is Tessa Houghton. Her abstract landscapes are often from water's edge, with indistinct landforms; some are actually abstract seascapes. And each of them carries its very own mood with it.

Tide, 2012

Houghton's beautiful oil paintings are created in Barcelona, where she moved in 2000. From the earliest time she can remember, she was scribbling, sketching and drawing. She earned her Fine Arts degree from Liverpool John Moore's University and lived for a time in England after graduation before moving to Barcelona. Her first solo exhibition was in Liverpool in 1998; beginning in 2000, thirteen more solo exhibitions (and a number of group exhibitions) followed.

Astral, 2013

In her work, Houghton hopes to achieve a level of suggestion for the viewer, triggering a memory or sensation - but leaving the work open enough for the viewer's own interpretation. Her art resides in homes around the world, and various cities have exhibited her work - Singapore, Hong Kong, and New York, to name a few. One year ago this month, she had the distinction of having her paintings featured in The World of Interiors magazine, Fine Arts and Antiques Special Edition.

 

Viewpoint, 2016

These are paintings to lose  myself in, each carrying me in its mood. I have my eye on one, just over 3' square, for just over $2000. It's a magnificent buy. You can find out more about the artist, view more of her work, and purchase directly from her website, http://www.tessahoughton.com/. She has an Instagram account, and you can follow her on Twitter, @tessahoughton, or on Facebook.

 

Your Own Narrative

Looking Clockwise, 9

Vladimir Hristov is an artist who lives and works in Amsterdam. He was born in Skopje, Macedonia in 1969 where he graduated from the Faculty of Fine Arts. In 1998 he moved to the Netherlands, where he completed post-graduate work at the Groningen Minerva Academy of Fine Arts.

Production Line, Damaged Goods

Hristov's studio in Amsterdam has an open door policy anytime he is there, which is often. And though he may not be famous world-wide, his audience is made up of appreciative people throughout the world. As a contemporary artist, many of his pieces are informed by current social and political issues. 

Image Splitters, 01

What I love about Hristov's art is the way it pulls me into the space. Often, there are faint and undefined suggestions of human forms; other times, the human forms are abstract expressions. Of this, Hristov says that on his acrylic and oil canvases he presents human appearances within a complex space. His hope is to present his ideas, but leave enough room for the audience to give the painting their own narrative.

Ceremony

I've drawn tremendous inspiration from Hristov's work. I love the dense, rich colors and the complexity of shape and form. I find his work moving, interesting, alluring. And without being conscious of it, I do have my own narrative for the pieces he's created. 

Enjoy the artist's website, here: http://hristov.nl/. And if you're in Amsterdam, look him up; and of course, take a picture or two and send it my way!

Happy Viewing!

 

Xuankong Temple

Imagine this. 

Mysterious and dangerous.

This is Xuankong Temple, known as The Hanging Temple and The Hanging Monastery.

This architectural masterpiece is 1550 years old, built in 491.

It's ancient.

Like most ancient Chinese architecture, it is all timber-work: think wood everything: posts, beams, joists, walls, roof, columns.

The beautiful decorative painting and color-glazed roofing preserves the wood and sustains it against decomposition.

As advanced as Chinese civilization was, even in 491, you have to marvel at the ability of workers to create this structure which simply appears to be hanging from the sheer face of a cliff. 

We don't know a whole lot about the deets, about the workers, the crews, or how they traversed the dangerously high rock - but in true Chinese form, there are legends that tell of its building. We do know that a unique mechanical method was used to secure the temple: crossbeams were half-inserted into the rock as a foundation, while the rock wall in back became its support. 

You can imagine that it is visited by hundreds of tourists, engineers, and construction specialists each year from all over the world who marvel at the design and seeming impossibility of it. So how do we get there ourselves?

It's a long journey. Fly to Beijing, which takes 12-15 hours from California. Then take a train to Datong, a 6 hour trip. Then take a taxi or a van to the Hanging Temple, about a 2 hour long ride. Buy your tickets at the gate, and begin the ascent on stairs that climb up for 164 feet. They are steep. Scary if you have a fear of heights. And for many people that's roughly another hour. In all, it's nearly a 24 hour trek from the West Coast of America.

But it makes my heart sing! Old temples, stupas, gothic cathedrals - churches of all sizes, shapes and denominations - hold me in awe. The splendor of oil paintings, frescoes, altars, icons - the articles symbolic of devotion - never cease to amaze me. Massive inspiration and devotion (or at least the dedication of artists and laborers) are obvious in the legacy of their work. What lies in the hearts of those work who toil to craft such places of beauty for worship?

 The Hanging Temple is evidence of  both inspired vision and dedicated labor.

But besides its stunning location and the peril of building it, there is something else special about it.

It is the only temple in which all three of the traditional Chinese religions are present: Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism.

The statue representing Buddhism is of  Sakyamuni Buddha, whose teachings inspired a number of distinct schools of Buddhism characterized by an emphasis on peace and compassion.

The statue representing Taoism is of Lao Tzu, the ancient Chinese philosopher who wrote the Tao Te Ching and was the founder of Taoism.

The statue representing Confucianism, is of course, that of Confucius. He was a teacher, philosopher, and a political figure. Confucianism, like Buddhism, is more a philosophy than a religion, and it places emphasis  on ethical-sociopolitical teachings.

All the dieties reside in San Jiao Hall (Hall of Three Divinities). 

Of which I have no good photos, save for the Buddha, above.

 Look at all the detail in the woodwork.

 

And look at these incredible roof lines and colors.

It isn't merely one or two buildings, either. I think of it as a complex.

Over 40 halls, cabinets and pavilions within the area are connected by corridors, bridges and boardwalks. They're evenly distributed and well-balanced in height. Inside the temple are more than 80 bronze cast statues, iron cast statues, and clay sculptured statues, along with stone carvings handed down from different dynasties.

It is a heritage site in China.

I'm sorry to say I don't know if it is still in use as a religious center. But I don't think so.

If I head to Beijing, I'm definitely taking a day to explore the  amazing hanging temple.

 

And if you get there before I do - send pictures! Tell me the story!