Robert Mapplethorpe

Colebrook

Upon a face

of fallen leaves,

A place left

private.

A beautiful opening

in the earth.

My precious stone

preserved.

photoshop one

type one

displacement

displacement. a series of 4 canvases. acrylic. wire. 09'.

a: the volume or weight of a fluid displaced by a floating body of equal weight.

b: the redirection of an emotion or impulse from its original object to another.

c: the substitution of another form of behavior for what is usual or expected.

d: the act or process of displacing.

logo design

He who binds himself to a joy, does the winged life destroy. He who kisses the joy as it flies, lives in eternity's sunrise. ~ William Blake

Therefore I give this song to you, who gave such grace to me...


Some may come and then abide
Others smile and ride away
Pain referred is pain denied
Let me heal just one more day

You’re gone
Like a shadow on the sun
Unscheduled port of call on the last ship
Your trip was hijacked in the middle of the run
But when all is said and done

Just because you left us long ago
doesn’t mean I don’t still miss you
Just because you’re somewhere out of reach
doesn’t mean I can’t still kiss you

Sometimes though you aren’t even here
I can feel you right beside me
Sometimes when I don’t know where I am
I know you’re the one to guide me

Remembering how love was and is for us
I will always know
Remembering how you somehow always knew
You’d be first to go


—from “Referred Pain”,
© 2010 Patricia Morrison for Lizard Queen Music

self portrait 99'

Sisters

Sisters

Louise Bourgeois

i m drinking water...but absorbing these...

The End [written about a sunset 7/91]

Lace of Golden Waves
Drawn out Like
The Ocean's Dreams

A Finer Warmth
Could never be Seen
A perfect bed
For a lovers roll
Children's daydreams
Are filled with this.

Oh, why, gently teaser,
Can't you Color
My eyes for more
Than few lazy moments?

My soul is entrapped
By You.

When I no longer Wake
I shall walk pleasantly
On the Golden, fiery
Plumage of your
Drifting fingertips...

is

The morning is, the morning is

yellow, pale and mint.

I think I m in love

And everyone fits the bill.

Installation 'For the Children' opening at Champlain Mill Friday May 7 4-6pm

Originally, I had a concept of an installation with many white, sheer, fabric panels, 3ft x 7ft hanging in a larger space, where the participant could weave through and find a stool in the center with a red plexiglass piece hanging in the center as a reflection on the theme of life and death, or ideally, ultimately whatever it inspires in the viewer.

This Champlain Mill show had a theme of the culture of the mills when they were working mills in the early 1900s. I adapted my installation idea to a small loft space in the mill, and adjusted the inner reflection area to one of a contemplation of the lost childhood's of the children who worked long hours in the mill, and a further reflection/comparison on the pressures on the modern day child. A worthy question we can all ask ourselves, from basic parenting, to schools, activities and sports; 'Are we allowing our children to be children? What kind of pressure are we putting on our children to perform?'

The installation is hanging fabric that guides the viewer through a maze ending in the final inner space of chair and table with teddy bear. There is a light in the center over the chair that glows, muted, from the outside, brightest in the inner space. There is a rough 'weaving' piece at the end of the final hallway, and a symbolic panel of fabric at the start, the fabric is a good replication of the fabric that would have been woven by the children in the mill.

The space most obviously evokes symbolism of inner child, and can also symbolize layers of self and other contemplations beyond the original concept. It can possibly be viewed as like an inner sanctum, or solo sanitarium if you will, the womb, etc.

It is a participatory space that asks the viewer to trust the process, the viewer being unknowing of where they are being led, or what is in the center. There is a brief description at the start of the piece at the bottom of the stairs.

The piece also plays on the viewers decisions/confidence in participating in an art piece...should i touch the bear? can i sit in the chair? as i walk by the weaved piece on the wall, i accidentally pulled a piece of the plastic or rope, should i fix it? my child pulled some of the weaving off the wall, what should i do? All of these questions/experiences for the viewer are intentional. Ultimately, I believe as an artist, that if we are inviting the viewer into a piece of our art, to participate with it, touching it is very important as well. I also sprayed some essential oils to evoke the sense of smell, which I don't think will still be strong by the time of the show. The weaving was intentionally set up roughly and haphazardly so, hopefully, even if the viewer chose not to sit in the chair or touch the bear, or contemplate the various themes, they'll catch a piece of the weaving on their purse or something as they walk by and be 'forced' to participate by having to weave the piece back in.

The entire piece is monochromatic as a 'backdrop' of serenity and peace for contemplating a serious and quite disturbing theme. However, it was important to me to also have a gentle piece that invites the viewer in and encourages participation in the ways stated above, but also allows the viewer to not engage at all in deeper contemplations. Being in the loft space allows the viewer to read the description and decide from the start whether to go further into the experience by walking up the stairs. The choice continues as to whether just walk the maze and simply look at the objects, or take it further and spend some time sitting and seeing what the space and the bear evoke in themselves. There is potential to walk out of the maze and piece and descend the stairs a changed and new person with ideally, a new perspective.

Installation prep

Installation 1

Installation

Burlington VT local venue graphics

i know i said i was going to write here

but it looks like i m not. really not.

Parima. Burlington. VT.

Flynn Theatre. Burlington. VT

Muddy Water's. Burlington. VT

Radio Bean. Burlington. VT

proj4sk5

sketch 4

p4 - 1

daaaarrraaaaafffffffttt 3

representing

interesting how, sometimes, we are in people's lives just to represent something, an idea, a problem, a hope, an inspiration, whatever. more later

part of onE poem

part of a poem by Danielle Collobert that i like:

numerous images – unceasingly a body there – no – that body there – the one banging its face against the wall – maybe – no walls fictive also – unnecessary walls – no – only to see from the place of the present invisible – here – facing the stripped body – arms motionless yet sweeping around in space without meeting anything to lean on – temporary connection – just for an instant – to slow the breathing down – slow down the beating – to quiet down – this body seeking the place – the hollow in which to melt back down again – heat ruptured – and cold of the world around – its place or position unsure to inscribe against the lack – the shocks of the day

x country skiing today matthews farm vt

i think i can 'embed' another oNe bits of white

posting again..displacement..is currently in a group show at the art hop pine st artworks building across from maltex bldg

displacement. a series of 4 canvases. acrylic. wire. 09'.

a: the volume or weight of a fluid displaced by a floating body of equal weight.

b: the redirection of an emotion or impulse from its original object to another.

c: the substitution of another form of behavior for what is usual or expected.

d: the act or process of displacing.

bench figures, charcoal 99'.

white pushes white

why

i don t know you

at all

nothing about you

.really.

ok, maybe just a few

sentences read.

maybe just a shared moment

or two.

.apart.

one

one day

- you and me -

we will have Day One.

So

i believe i meant to write. not post a hundred photos. or even think about art. trying to balance out digital art, fine art, music and writing and do some of all. blah blah blah, art art art and not enough writing ug. now, there, since i ve explained it , here a poem. not done in the moment right now, but anyhow done last wk.

Who

Time. Why think of time.

or space.

or which way

around.

really.

really?

time turned around

and i looked &

we were here.

Still.

alone. alive with

ourselves &

These other places.

Spaces.

Not to ponder.

Not to think about

Not to write.

that

onE not in white, mostly, maybe, abstraction..oh ok the snow sculptures first..then that

ok oNE more is never just One more..white..

my new find..

white mesh leggings from Amer. Apparel ~

visions of these

with my white parachute mini..

i heart these.. dig them

white, white..white...and..

more white...

oNe .. more .. white relief

wire and white

a song

oh..

um..i should probably write here, or i ll forget, again, that i started another blog. i love the quiet, hidden, secret-ness of a new blog, when no one knows you are here and you are speaking to nothing. i don t think 'truth' gets any closer to that - speaking to nothing. nothing. as soon as i speak or write, it becomes a lie b/c the moment moves and i change into a new truth. eh? ok enough deep - ish bull- shit- ish stuff. i am following thurston moore's blog. only. so far. the only one. Why? i found a link to it somewhere and it reminded me to start my own one.One. ONE. i guess i like ONE too. it sounds so nice. one

alone

black

quiet

peace

mind

spirit

one

ONE. ok. Love to you.

one day, day one

i m back again to this i guess. i know i have a blog somewhere out there, but i can t remember where! it s really about getting back to some writing. i know there are alot of stories and experiences building up in my mind again, and it is time to start spiraling them out. i love that. a spiral is really a beautiful thing. so, here we are.