Happy New Year Blog Readers....
This year, I'm not going to make some sappy list of the things I learned and discovered. Instead, I'm just going to say that I learned a lot. And most of it had do with the delicate art of communication. Struggle through to the end, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.....
9.9.10
Birdfeed Chandelier
I was invited to a quirky urban arts garden to install a visual piece. The commissioner hoped I would base it on my lecture which proposes the idea that maybe, Art is a form of hospitality.
So....I made a Birdfeed Chandelier.
It is edible, for sparrows and such.
The base is made of copper tubing, and wiring, courtesy of Norm Cummings.
The rest is suet, birdseed, feathers, twine, blown out quails eggs....
When I went to check it yesterday, there were little footprints at the top.
I may add to it.
So....I made a Birdfeed Chandelier.
It is edible, for sparrows and such.
The base is made of copper tubing, and wiring, courtesy of Norm Cummings.
The rest is suet, birdseed, feathers, twine, blown out quails eggs....
When I went to check it yesterday, there were little footprints at the top.
I may add to it.
16.3.10
Potion
This is a prototype as get ready for my exhibit in Chiang Mai. Of course, as things are developing, I can't seem to get away from the food.
So part of my performance will surely involve these little morsels.
So part of my performance will surely involve these little morsels.
12.3.10
Home for now.
Just outside the small Northern Thai town of Doi Saket I sit in a house made of mud built by my host Ong Bongo here at Compeung Village. There is an upstairs loft that has become my studio where I pour over food colouring, rice paper and tiny quails eggs, shells and books. I work from 7am until about 1pm. Then it's too dry and hot to do anything at all.
The beginning......
Odious Accusations...
and now...
The beginning......
Odious Accusations...
and now...
21.2.10
Opening and Notes on 2 Months of Sobriety.
Soon, I will begin a residency in Northern Thailand.
I love this feeling of going somewhere completely unfamiliar. The reading and preparing. The knowledge that this is the before and that there will be an after, which is only ones guess but that feeling that it will be good. Completely.
There will be no phone. No internet. Other peoples music will not pound through the walls, shaking the floorboards, imposing their presence.
But there will be coconut milk and lemongrass. And silk.
I am at the opening of a whole new love affair and I am giddy with anticipation!
This comes at the close of a two month pact with myself to not consume a drop of alcohol. This pact was made for various reasons. But nothing too extreme or to be worried about. Just an experiment to see what it would be like to know that however I felt at any given time would not be connected to the consumption of a substance.
Hmmm. The results have surprised me.
You see, I have carried with me for years now, that I must had done something terribly wrong at some moment in time. For the life of me, I could not figure this out, what it was that I had done. My mind and heart has twisted and turned over this, skipped and sunk, the struggle to know never available to me.
But now, with all this clarity, I finally realize.
Nothing. I did absolutely nothing. I did not yell at anyone, or call anyone names.
I did not threaten anyone or make grand gestures of oppression. I was not mean, cunning or loathsome. I didn't steal, jab, or break. There were no lies, neither large nor small, no underhanded motives or envious plots. I did nothing. Period.
Now don't get me wrong, I am not perfect. Far from it.
I trust too readily. I am openly vulnerable. I ask questions that will sometimes be uncomfortable and difficult to answer. I have strong opinions and voice them. I am terrible at failing. I love hard. Maybe too hard at times.
Sharing my home, food and quiet confidences comes natural to me, not something I ever thought I'd have to defend.
So. There it is.
I didn't do anything wrong.
I am free.
I love this feeling of going somewhere completely unfamiliar. The reading and preparing. The knowledge that this is the before and that there will be an after, which is only ones guess but that feeling that it will be good. Completely.
There will be no phone. No internet. Other peoples music will not pound through the walls, shaking the floorboards, imposing their presence.
But there will be coconut milk and lemongrass. And silk.
I am at the opening of a whole new love affair and I am giddy with anticipation!
This comes at the close of a two month pact with myself to not consume a drop of alcohol. This pact was made for various reasons. But nothing too extreme or to be worried about. Just an experiment to see what it would be like to know that however I felt at any given time would not be connected to the consumption of a substance.
Hmmm. The results have surprised me.
You see, I have carried with me for years now, that I must had done something terribly wrong at some moment in time. For the life of me, I could not figure this out, what it was that I had done. My mind and heart has twisted and turned over this, skipped and sunk, the struggle to know never available to me.
But now, with all this clarity, I finally realize.
Nothing. I did absolutely nothing. I did not yell at anyone, or call anyone names.
I did not threaten anyone or make grand gestures of oppression. I was not mean, cunning or loathsome. I didn't steal, jab, or break. There were no lies, neither large nor small, no underhanded motives or envious plots. I did nothing. Period.
Now don't get me wrong, I am not perfect. Far from it.
I trust too readily. I am openly vulnerable. I ask questions that will sometimes be uncomfortable and difficult to answer. I have strong opinions and voice them. I am terrible at failing. I love hard. Maybe too hard at times.
Sharing my home, food and quiet confidences comes natural to me, not something I ever thought I'd have to defend.
So. There it is.
I didn't do anything wrong.
I am free.
3.2.10
19.1.10
you never know...
Some departures come as such a big surprise.
Often knocking us back on track and reminding us to be good to people we've met and liked.
To try and keep in touch.
And be strong enough to make the effort to overcome differences and conflicts.
You never know when someone you've known will suddenly be gone.
Akosua died in childbirth in Accra on Saturday.
She was kind and vibrant, a quite beautiful woman.
She left behind twin daughters aged nine, and her new born baby girl.
Often knocking us back on track and reminding us to be good to people we've met and liked.
To try and keep in touch.
And be strong enough to make the effort to overcome differences and conflicts.
You never know when someone you've known will suddenly be gone.
Akosua died in childbirth in Accra on Saturday.
She was kind and vibrant, a quite beautiful woman.
She left behind twin daughters aged nine, and her new born baby girl.
10.1.10
6.1.10
This Year. 2.
I will give to those I love.
Although, unfortunately...
this year I will have to take more care as to whom I choose
to love.
Although, unfortunately...
this year I will have to take more care as to whom I choose
to love.
5.1.10
2.1.10
Last Year.
There's this popular advice among us
to tell each other,
sometimes gently, sometimes harshly,
not to live in the past.
And, of course, this is an understandable request.
Not too much to ask of our friends and those we love too much.
How does one look towards a new year, though,
without the story of what came before.
Two thousand and nine began for me gently.
I had recently buried a woman in Ghana who had meant the world to me, there was calm and closure.
I was writing and finally purging some of the dramas that had occurred in the mayhem that was the prior three years.
There was strong beauty in my friendships and I felt deeply connected to those I chose to be around me.
I was, I thought, maybe ready for love.
And so. I believed it found me.
Apparently, nothing could have prepared me when suddenly the bridge I had almost finished crossing suddenly broke beneath me.
Ah. My introduction to a companion named PTSD.
It has taken 8 months to gather the pieces, rebuild my bridge.
That's all.
Among this wreckage, I found beautiful places.
Spent time with a few unbelievable spirits.
Achieved incredible personal and professional feats.
And all along the way I remained completely raw.
You saw.
And I don't care.
to tell each other,
sometimes gently, sometimes harshly,
not to live in the past.
And, of course, this is an understandable request.
Not too much to ask of our friends and those we love too much.
How does one look towards a new year, though,
without the story of what came before.
Two thousand and nine began for me gently.
I had recently buried a woman in Ghana who had meant the world to me, there was calm and closure.
I was writing and finally purging some of the dramas that had occurred in the mayhem that was the prior three years.
There was strong beauty in my friendships and I felt deeply connected to those I chose to be around me.
I was, I thought, maybe ready for love.
And so. I believed it found me.
Apparently, nothing could have prepared me when suddenly the bridge I had almost finished crossing suddenly broke beneath me.
Ah. My introduction to a companion named PTSD.
It has taken 8 months to gather the pieces, rebuild my bridge.
That's all.
Among this wreckage, I found beautiful places.
Spent time with a few unbelievable spirits.
Achieved incredible personal and professional feats.
And all along the way I remained completely raw.
You saw.
And I don't care.
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