September 5, 2011. Keith doesn't like this pair. Two faces watching passersby. They are large, outsize statements that I am here. I see you, do you see me. They are reminiscent, but still original. Fang mask symbols, but all New York. They could be spectral images, but they are substantive, made of readily available materials and a free canvas. The scraps of paper add texture and body to the figures. Images within the image, random, but fully part of the overall work.
August 20, 2011. How much can we absorb, how fast, and is it in time? So many things vie for our attention - warnings, information, help, directions. The placement here is haphazard, the messages blurring or covering each other. How will our future look when we understand the organization of complex messaging, moving things into pleasing formations that our mind will remember, recognize over and over and register without outright effort.
August 16, 2011. I don't know. These just appeared on utility poles and have continued to multiply. Neon colors, transforming everyday metal poles into supple totems of color - pink, orange, blue, purple. The plastic strips crawl up the poles, high, drawing your eye upward to the sky, away from the movement of the street. And why not?
Thursday, August 4, 2011. Curls, curls, all curls. It waits, like some giant unfolding snake head, malevolent, maybe not. It sits in this green lushness, patient, older than I can imagine, having existed in this form forever. Then it unfurls, soft and green, wide. A dew catcher. A place of rest for thirsty insects.
Thursday, August 4, 2011. Offerings at the bottom of the falls, around the pool, mist playing around the rocks tossed to earth by beings unknown or unnamed. And then there are the rocks placed into the nook on the right. Who has crawled there, scaled the wall, to place these gifts that mark the presence of the seeker, the penitent or the loyal? The stones, worn smooth by time and water, sprayed by the shower of the water or the falling rain, nestled in a cranny.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011. These Koi have taken flight against a clouded sky. They no longer swim, they have been released by the beauty and serenity of their setting. Accident of nature, or design? What shapes their color - the gold, the orange, the brilliant white? They are denizens of the temple ground; guarded, cared for, asked to help us reflect on beauty in a place given to lamentation.
Monday, August 2, 2011. Thousands of miles away and the familiar is there. Color and absence, the carving away to expose what lies beneath, the disaffection of youth. No sorrow, no joy, just the question about where am I, who am I? Did I see a reflection, did I see something that questioned my training, did I realize that I haven't been told the entirety of the situation? Youth matures into knowledge.
Sunday, August 1, 2011. From the City of black and white to a land of lush color. This red hanging on a tree was a hue that was not the blood red that would make a statement in New York, or the pinkish tone favored by the Barbie set. But here it was, hanging in profusion, bright, insistent, awake. It was right for the forest, belonging here in proximity to the ocean, showy. What happens when it is moved? Does it retain its pride of place, and in what context? Regional. Is it an example of what belongs where it is?
As I travel around the City I am always aware of the art around me, in all of its forms. I enjoy watching the lamp posts as I pass by, the sides of buildings, the sidewalks, the sky, almost anywhere. Sometimes I spot artists I know from Union Square, Soho and elsewhere in the City.