"The redundant design, which one associates with suburban lounges, together with the faded colours, suggests the sofa has done its time, as if stuck in a kind of limbo wherein images and objects from the recent past are at their most abject and invisible, invested with neither newness nor nostalgia. Now damp, the sofa has sprouted dozens of delicate white mushrooms from its folds and creases."
-Frieze Magazine on Richard Hughes
After the Summer of Like (2005)
It's an easy shot to miss. Something got in the milk, and spoiled it early. Certainly fair to say it's difficult and dangerous to swallow.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Turn Around, Tex.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Conversations
"I’d drawn constantly since childhood: large drawings of every creature alive in the ocean; Spanish missions with Indians camping in the foreground, in the background Spanish men throwing cowhides over a cliff to a waiting ship; hundreds of Cinderellas on five-by-eight pads, all alike but with varying hair color and dresses."-Jennifer Bartlett
Always Stuck With Leaving
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Hansel & Gretel
As Performed by the Austin Lyric Opera
I think I might buy season tickets, it was brilliant! So many talented singers, such a beautiful Opera!
Monday, April 19, 2010
As Long As I Live
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Death for the Vertical City
Let's focus on the ground for a minute.
That closest-to-a-solid, bone & joint
moves, though inaudible.
I can't work with this any longer.
This Rem-Koolhaasing of my life.
blocks only stack so high before tumbling.
closed in a clumsy slump
it looks precarious because it is precarious.
That closest-to-a-solid, bone & joint
moves, though inaudible.
I can't work with this any longer.
This Rem-Koolhaasing of my life.
blocks only stack so high before tumbling.
closed in a clumsy slump
it looks precarious because it is precarious.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Ever Fallen in Love with Someone You Shouldn't Have Fallen in Love With?
The best way to get over someone is to run until you're too exhausted to think about them anymore.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
But when the woods were painted, He, too, did fly away
Regrets Only
Colin Tuis Nesbit
Colin Tuis Nesbit
Top floor (private space) aspect of the installation Regrets Only. (Detail) 2009
Royal icing, food coloring, colored sugar crystals, paper streamers, styrofoam, floral wire, wooden benches Casket 23 x 28 x 84 (life-size); Installation dimensions variable. Floral spray contains over 300 royal icing roses piped by the artist.
I was one of Colin's students during his graduate studies at BYU. Consistently when I view his artwork (during various stages of completion) I have been overwhelmed with a sense of reverence for life, and a deeper desire to understand my place in this infinite scheme. It makes me feel there is much to profit from a vast human heritage. The delicate attention he imparts to each lithograph, and the hours of deliberation over subject and content has reminds me that many good, and beautiful things, sometimes have to be painstakingly sought after before they are obtained.
"The impetus for my body of work is my longing – brought on by near paralyzing fears of loss and death in my youth – to connect with something beyond my own mortality. Inspired by my own synchronistic encounters with people, stories, or objects from the past, both ancestrally related and wholly unconnected to me, my work serves as a reminder of inevitable death, yet also as a cautiously optimistic tribute to bygone entities that are allowed to, in a phenomenological sense, live on through the artwork..."
Image(s) are property of the artist, please explore the link to see more of the artists' work and statement.
I had a guinea golden;
I lost it in the sand,
and though the sum was simple,
And pounds were in the land,
Still had it such a value
Unto my frugal eye,
That when I could not find it
I sat me down to sigh
I had a crimson robin
Who sang full many a day,
But when the woods were painted
He, too, did fly away.
Time brought me other robins, --
Their ballads were the same, --
Still for my missing troubadour
I kept the 'house at hame.'
I had a star in heaven;
One Pleiad was its name,
And when I was not heeding
It wandered from the same.
And though the skies are crowded,
And all the night ashine,
I do not care about it,
Since none of them are mine.
My story has a moral:
I have a missing friend, --
Pleiad its name, and robin,
And guinea in the sand, --
And when this mornful ditty,
Accompanied with tear,
Shall meet the eye of traitor
In country far from here,
Grant that repentance solemn
May seize upon his mind,
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.
By Emily Dickinson
Royal icing, food coloring, colored sugar crystals, paper streamers, styrofoam, floral wire, wooden benches Casket 23 x 28 x 84 (life-size); Installation dimensions variable. Floral spray contains over 300 royal icing roses piped by the artist.
I was one of Colin's students during his graduate studies at BYU. Consistently when I view his artwork (during various stages of completion) I have been overwhelmed with a sense of reverence for life, and a deeper desire to understand my place in this infinite scheme. It makes me feel there is much to profit from a vast human heritage. The delicate attention he imparts to each lithograph, and the hours of deliberation over subject and content has reminds me that many good, and beautiful things, sometimes have to be painstakingly sought after before they are obtained.
"The impetus for my body of work is my longing – brought on by near paralyzing fears of loss and death in my youth – to connect with something beyond my own mortality. Inspired by my own synchronistic encounters with people, stories, or objects from the past, both ancestrally related and wholly unconnected to me, my work serves as a reminder of inevitable death, yet also as a cautiously optimistic tribute to bygone entities that are allowed to, in a phenomenological sense, live on through the artwork..."
Image(s) are property of the artist, please explore the link to see more of the artists' work and statement.
I had a guinea golden;
I lost it in the sand,
and though the sum was simple,
And pounds were in the land,
Still had it such a value
Unto my frugal eye,
That when I could not find it
I sat me down to sigh
I had a crimson robin
Who sang full many a day,
But when the woods were painted
He, too, did fly away.
Time brought me other robins, --
Their ballads were the same, --
Still for my missing troubadour
I kept the 'house at hame.'
I had a star in heaven;
One Pleiad was its name,
And when I was not heeding
It wandered from the same.
And though the skies are crowded,
And all the night ashine,
I do not care about it,
Since none of them are mine.
My story has a moral:
I have a missing friend, --
Pleiad its name, and robin,
And guinea in the sand, --
And when this mornful ditty,
Accompanied with tear,
Shall meet the eye of traitor
In country far from here,
Grant that repentance solemn
May seize upon his mind,
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.
By Emily Dickinson
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Docile Bodies
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