Sunday, March 27, 2011

JUST DO IT

March 20, 2011. You can't have any idea what will happen if you follow this command. To what extent does the writer expect you to consider your action, or does he expect you to simply follow the instruction? To what end, this order? As if the words were not direct enough, the arrow moves your eye and the 'l's are equally insistent, elongated to move you to action. And what if you resist? Or is it futile?

HARBINGER

March 15, 2011. Almost overnight the blossoms of spring came through, enveloping the old leaves and grass. The colors of spring, these milky yellows, the strong green of the leaves and then the brilliant little blue flowers. They push against the dirty, earthy browns to remind us about renewal and color. But you have to look to see - it isn't all just offered to the casual observer.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

ALTERATION

March 11, 2011. Should a work of art remain unchanged? When is that decision made, who makes it, and is it right. There are those works we would probably not want to see changed in any way. But is there room for interactive pieces such as this? Did the first artist decide the work could be changed and do so? Did another come along and decide it could be improved? Was the first sad to see the original go away, ephemeral as a sand mandala? I would have liked to see them continue, alongside each other.

TEAR AWAY

March 10, 2011. The artist Elspeth Meyer created a subway series of collage faces, which she has slowly unveiled at successive shows at BWAC. I anticipate with eagerness her studies of the people that she observes on and off the trains. Here, under CPW at 96th street, an unnamed artist creates observations of their own, but from the billboards that line most platforms. I like that selective tearing away reveals a layer of random color and shifts the face into another dimension, unknown except for the fact that I know.

SUN COLOR

Tuesday, March 1, 2011. Bonaire N.A. Pink hued flecks of clouds accent the deep blue of this sunset sky and the darkening sea. It happened upon us after the setting of the sun disappointed us. Our expectation wasn't met, and we were in danger of missing what came next, except that someone continue to watch and was ready to engage us all in what unfolded. How often is it like that? Having missed out on what we hope to experience, we miss what comes next, which can be equally as glorious, with the addition of being unexpected.