So much to express, so little I can transfer into words this very moment...
I'm engaged in one of those pivotal life-affirming/altering wondrous experiences and I wanted to share something I just read that sums it up quite nicely.
"The essential purpose of yoga practice is to reduce avidyā (literally, incorrect comprehension, a kind of fog that clouds true sight) so that understanding can gradually come to the surface. But how can we know whether we have seen and understood things clearly? When we see the truth, when we reach a level that is higher than our normal everyday understanding, something deep within us is very quiet and peaceful. Then there is a contentment that nothing can take from us. It is not the kind of satisfaction derived from gazing at a beautiful object. It is much more than this. It is a satisfaction deep within us that is free from feeling and judgment."
"Tirumalai Krishnamacharya was 50 when this film was made and is arguably the most influential yogi in establishing what yoga has become today. His students include Pattabhi Jois the founder of Asthanga yoga, BKS Iyengar, Indra Devi, and his son Desikachar. Most of todays leading yogis have studied under one or more of Krishnamacharya students. Krishnamacharya was born in 1888 in a remote Indian village and lived to be over 100 years old until his death in 1989. He is known as not only as a most influential yoga teacher, but a scholar, and a healer. Krishnamacharya was known to be able to voluntarily stop his visible heart beat/ pulse for over two minutes, probably by drastically reducing venous return to the heart.
The Yoga Sutras of Patanajali spoken In Sanskrit by Kausthub Desikachar."
For the one day a year when it can all come full-circle
Last Friday a new collective took form at the residence of 4 creatives; we put our heads together, got our hearts excited, and within 4 days, hosted the first 5 à 7, displayed the following artists and their works ...
C'est quoi ce truc, 5 à 7?
The Statement
The Artists
A gentle, intense yet centered artist who has lived in hipster-territory since it was a major liability on your life to do so... His works are playful and poignant, detailed yet sweeping in pigment that float you from one bustling scene to another; connected by themes which seemingly haunt him, popping off the canvas, out of their screened lines to trace around you...
When I asked him how long he'd been working he replied "Since I was 5. I know that's what they all say but it's true."
When I asked him what motivates him to work, constantly, (his works and processes, and the artifacts of his daily life were living amongst one another. The separation between art and life, work and rest, did not make itself apparent) he took a beat, a pregnant moment, reflected and, seemingly teetering on the edge of tears, told me with clarity and a knowing in his voice, that he suspects it has to do with narcissism, with neurosis.
Le Dejeuner sur l'herbe #1, 2007 (see also, Manet)
Peter Park
I met Peter in our Art Since 1945 art history class. We, along with around 12 of our classmates and one fantastic, fabulous, insanely intelligent teacher (see: Filiz Burhan) had the pleasure of tripping out to Munich on an overnight train, Gare du Nord -> Munchen. As was the norm with Prof. Burhan, virtually each waking-daylight-filled moment in a city was spent dedicated to tracing the arch of art history as it was developed, now displayed, in whichever important capital we happened to be visiting. From there we hit Switzerland where, after a day of museum hopping, a small group of us, including Peter, bonded over defecting from the larger group by exploring the outer reaches of a somewhat uninspiring Basel. The little adventure we took made Switzerland a little less neutral.
Walking round the New York Times building last year, I ran into him, now enrolled in Hunter's MFA program.
His photographs from our Art History days always wowed me. Now, his works do too...
Works in Progress (aka that Exclusive sh*t)
Shannon O'Leary
White-collar assistant by day, quirky comic-heroine by night, I wanted a dash of black-on-white. I also wanted to finally get a glimpse of the much heard about, little seen work she produces. Shannon and I bonded as obviously outside-the-box colleagues in a too-buttoned-up work place. Each afternoon around 3, I'd take a little coffee break and meander to her desk to talk billing, Pepperidge Farms cookie collections (Distinct Chocolate variety, Orchard variety), art, music (her love for metal and metal shows), tarot and astrology, and whatever else we could think of to giggle over. She enjoys Swedish comic conventions and a good glass of red.
George Venson
A San Antonio, Texas native, George lives conveniently close. But that's not the only reason why he was included in the show ;-) . George loves the word subversive. Seemingly. And every time we speak, he's got some absolutely fascinating tidbit that I rush to add to my Misc file in the notes on my phone, for future research, of course. He loves awkward. The more 'off', the better. Mind you, he won't make an issue of it. But you'll know.
He didn't say a whole lot about the works he showcased the other night, but their impact goes beyond words. You'd even overlook them, if not for the fact that the room's center was filled with a deep-red screen, beautifully dividing the space, quietly leaving a mark on the night as it structured social circles North, South, East, West. If not for the sadistically hilarious sight of someone innocently sitting on the couch, a heavy lead pipe menacingly hanging over their unknowing head.
For this gilded piece he has one word: sad. Just, sad.
Mireille Moga
Ah, yes, family love. She's been taking pictures for as long as I've been able to wrap my head around the concept of "cool"; I think her artistic streak defined that for me as a little kid... watching her tote around a Canon or Pentax in a Crown Royal bag. She's got an eye that I can always see. Her mark extends past the undiscriminating lens. The 12 photos she gave for the show were taken for The Architectural League of New York's show on the changing face of New York City. This Friday.
Peter Park
I met Peter in our Art Since 1945 art history class. We, along with around 12 of our classmates and one fantastic, fabulous, insanely intelligent teacher (see: Filiz Burhan) had the pleasure of tripping out to Munich on an overnight train, Gare du Nord -> Munchen. As was the norm with Prof. Burhan, virtually each waking-daylight-filled moment in a city was spent dedicated to tracing the arch of art history as it was developed, now displayed, in whichever important capital we happened to be visiting. From there we hit Switzerland where, after a day of museum hopping, a small group of us, including Peter, bonded over defecting from the larger group by exploring the outer reaches of a somewhat uninspiring Basel. The little adventure we took made Switzerland a little less neutral.
Walking round the New York Times building last year, I ran into him, now enrolled in Hunter's MFA program.
His photographs from our Art History days always wowed me. Now, his works do too...
Works in Progress (aka that Exclusive sh*t)
Shannon O'Leary
White-collar assistant by day, quirky comic-heroine by night, I wanted a dash of black-on-white. I also wanted to finally get a glimpse of the much heard about, little seen work she produces. Shannon and I bonded as obviously outside-the-box colleagues in a too-buttoned-up work place. Each afternoon around 3, I'd take a little coffee break and meander to her desk to talk billing, Pepperidge Farms cookie collections (Distinct Chocolate variety, Orchard variety), art, music (her love for metal and metal shows), tarot and astrology, and whatever else we could think of to giggle over. She enjoys Swedish comic conventions and a good glass of red.
George Venson
A San Antonio, Texas native, George lives conveniently close. But that's not the only reason why he was included in the show ;-) . George loves the word subversive. Seemingly. And every time we speak, he's got some absolutely fascinating tidbit that I rush to add to my Misc file in the notes on my phone, for future research, of course. He loves awkward. The more 'off', the better. Mind you, he won't make an issue of it. But you'll know.
He didn't say a whole lot about the works he showcased the other night, but their impact goes beyond words. You'd even overlook them, if not for the fact that the room's center was filled with a deep-red screen, beautifully dividing the space, quietly leaving a mark on the night as it structured social circles North, South, East, West. If not for the sadistically hilarious sight of someone innocently sitting on the couch, a heavy lead pipe menacingly hanging over their unknowing head.
Mireille Moga
Ah, yes, family love. She's been taking pictures for as long as I've been able to wrap my head around the concept of "cool"; I think her artistic streak defined that for me as a little kid... watching her tote around a Canon or Pentax in a Crown Royal bag. She's got an eye that I can always see. Her mark extends past the undiscriminating lens. The 12 photos she gave for the show were taken for The Architectural League of New York's show on the changing face of New York City. This Friday.
If it weren't for Kevin's CONSTANT tendency to think up wild and fun situations, surprisingly creative, we wouldn't have 5 à 7. It started, in his crazy little head, with 5 rolls of blue painter's tape. It continued with the reverence he has toward our living situation. Drawing lines, mini road-maps around the nooks and crannies of this place. Originally, he wanted to spontaneously invite passerby's in to walk a path around the life-as-art.
His tongue-in-cheek drawings made an appearance, appropriately hung by the food and drinks. When Kevin's not singing, going out to eat, making ridiculously funny statements, or adding dots to the ever-growing and changing dot project-- a wall he envisions covering entirely with dots, he's obsessing over food and wine pairings, reductions, duck à la press; or Pies 'n Thighs, Diner, and/or Marlow & Sons (or Daughters). Yep, foodie (understatement).
Moi
There's something that happens when I look into eyes. A photo. A person. A face pulls me in like nothing else. Upon it is written... everything words would chase, just barely embrace. I get in a trance with pigments and rendering, cloning almost, arbitrary use of color, very much inspired by those artists who made up Die Brücke.
If you've made it this far, hope to see you at the next show! ;)
