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Feeling restless like everyone else who has spent enough time indoors watching the skies gloom over, puddles freeze and whipping white streaks fly by all winter, I saw a glimmer of sun and decided a run through the park was a great idea to honor this first day of Spring. Not fooled when I saw the temperatures were still at 30 degrees I bundled up and made my exit.

Without delay the wind stung my cheeks and my inhales were razors to my lungs. I barely had made it 100 feet when black ice caused my runners pace to stop, make baby steps to avoid a sore bottom and continue. Snow drifts of at least 6 inches proved unavoidable obstacles that soaked over my ankle high sneakers – not to mention the blasts of side-swiping winds that blew the fine snow, sand and grit into other barely visible crevices and my tearing eyes. I was cursing it all, the snow, the wind, the winter, my Vitamin D deficiency and living in New England. “For ?#$%@!!* sake – it’s the first day of Spring!”

Then my ever-optimistic self chimed in quite annoyingly, “Now come on, think of this as an adventure, you know how much you love adventures! And you are getting a good work-out.” Quite amazing what a shift in perspective can do. Slowly I pushed my body forward (even though the wind had other ideas), avoided sloshing pools of wet mud and embraced the force of nature as well as the Canadian geese I had to maneuver around. The highlight? A 15 second relief from the wind, a tease of warmth as the clouds opened and realizing I was all alone to breath in this pure white winter (even if it is spring) wonderland.

Nothing like a good adventure to start the season – Happy Spring!

One of the greatest things about creating is you never know what is going to happen. I came to the beach with an open, non-judgmental mind, welcoming the materials to speak to me and began collecting. It was only in the action of doing – making – that I knew how I wanted to arrange the long reeds, sticks and crunchy seaweed. The spontaneous connections, the unknown, the creating is what makes this a soulful process. Engaging mind, body, spirit to offer something to the earth. An ephemeral weaving of smelly, twisted, organic lengths of multiple shades of brown. The look of a child’s work – unstructured, spontaneous, loose, rough. An expression of place and time that will fade with the change in weather.

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I thought about organizing friends, family or strangers to join me in a beach clean-up – a creative beach clean-up or other. But in the final event I went on a solo mission giving me time to reflect on human nature, to feel disgust, confusion, awe and ultimately surprise at what we humans are bringing upon our world and each other. One small beach, two pairs of hands, multiple bags and a sense of purpose.

At mid-tide I rode my bike to a nearby beach and began the slow, searching walk. I was a beach-comber looking for treasures, but not the normal shells and sea glass, the things that caught my eye were those sparkling plastic wrappers reflecting the warm sun and polluting our oceans. Methodically I stepped along the tide line, straining my eyes for goodies or seeing the large items all too clearly. Recyclables went into one bag, rubbish in another and finally novelties in the third. Yes these trashy trinkets someday may end up in a conceptual, environmentally minded art piece that speaks to my sadness, anger and desire for change. Right now however they take up precious closet & drawer space while those ideas mingle and exchange pleasantries over tea.

I kept my eye out for the most surprising finds. Of course the plethora of plastic bottles, aluminum cans, straws and cigar or candy wrappers made the grand entrance but one thing that caught me off guard was the clothes. On the surface a simple piece of fabric lay, however the sand had trapped the goods and in iceberg fashion the full particles of clothing were hidden to the naked eye. I can only imagine what a child building a sand castle would have discovered this summer as he digs in his shovel only to come up with a hole ridden butterfly t-shirt. I freed two tank tops, two sweaters, one hoodie, a pair of boxers, pajama pants and two t-shirts, not to mention the mangled fabric encrusted with dried seaweed on higher ground. I was flabbergasted. I mean I’m sure I’ve lost a couple items myself over the years, but to this extent… I wondered how many were to go skinny dipping in the ocean… in mid-winter?!

However the biggest and best find to this day yet was the Mona Lisa. As I emptied out my second bag of rubbish I noticed something square and white laying near the still beached docks. As I picked it up I realized it was a stretched canvas and on the front none other than an amateur representation of the Mona Lisa. Her yellow face was crackled and the background unfinished but her smug smile still clung to the surface like a limpet to a rock. How and why this had arrived at such a venue baffled yet intrigued me. What would Mona Lisa say of her situation? Her new identification as marine debris? I felt like it could be the beginning to a Tom Robbins novel, an opening to a saga of mystery and fantasy. I would not pass this up – although thinking my other half may rationally think I’ve stepped over the line – so prepared to file it away among other stacks of paper and boards when I returned home.

My back began to ache at the rate in which my disgust grew every time I bent down to pick up another plastic fork, half-buried juice box or piece of styrofoam. I was only one trying to help this situation and their were so many forces against me. Multiple times I saw wind blow a container out of a trash bin or someones unconcerned hands. I observed a seagull drop a McDonald’s bag full of condiments from 25ft in the air into the unsuspecting harbor waves. But was I to give up? No, because even this small act of consciousness and awareness for the world is better than none at all.

Disposing of my goods, stuffing the recyclables in my backpack and haphazardly stuffing the Mona Lisa into a bag I swerved on home with sandy toes, a little less happy, but more determined to raise awareness about this issue. When I arrived to show off my finds ready for the normal rolling of the eyes and ‘where are you putting all that trash’? I found the Mona Lisa eagerly being swept from my hands promptly replacing a painting of greater value on our wall. Surprised yet delighted I laughed at this unexpected turn of events, letting her eyes follow me down the hall. The day’s effort and desperation seemed small to the reward we had just gained. How does this reflect on the world of marine debris – I say one for nature and one for women! Maybe Mona Lisa does have something to smile about after all….

To see more facts about marine debris and ideas of what you can do to help go to: marinedebris.noaa.gov/outreach/pdfs/mdfacts.pdf

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The west was calling my name recently as I sketched the cypress trees of Big Sur and the inland gold studded rivers of the NorCal Redwood region. The drawback, I was sketching from photographs – collaging the images together to form the perfect scene. If only I had been there to sit under the cypress tree emboldened on the edge of a cliff with the salty wind whipping at my blank pages. If only I had been there rocks embedding under my thighs, toes dipped in the cold river water as my pencil captured the vibrancy of the natural surroundings. Would my drawings have been more convincing? The attitude and feelings emerging through the shades of graphite? Possibly. But alas here I sit far away re-visiting places I’ve been and grateful that I can see them detailed in all their glory in my mind’s eye. The cyclical nature of time determines the when, where and how – and like the un-drawn images in my sketchbook there are pages to fill in this life yet.

The sketches were drawn for a friend’s first album, California Windfall, An Unexpected Stroke of Luck – I felt pretty lucky myself they asked me to be a part of this special collaboration with the beautiful Avery Rose, her rockin’ band and the other designers…

 

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Dynasty Murals – this guy tagged the back of a building and instead of getting arrested, got hired to paint the rest of the building in Charleston, SC

Washington, NC – they’ve got a love of the crustaceans!

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Earth as Art… continues to Amaze!

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Last weekend there was a small flurry of excitement about winter as the ice sculptures arrived despite the warmish temperatures. Local shops sponsored an ice sculpture to promote business, local culture and to celebrate the season! There were frogs with candy hearts, toy trains, musical instruments, pin-up models and two headed mice to represent the diversity of downtown. I was surprised by the detail and color inlay that most had. It seemed a somewhat extravagant expense considering the only real fate of an ice sculpture, to melt. However the immortality attached to ice is what draws you in, freezes your attention, if you will. How can this shiny, translucent material that you usually find clinking around in your water glass be transformed into the fierce cold-blooded dragon in front of you? It’s fascinating, but needless to say slowly but surely it will melt with all the hard work and craftsmanship that goes into it.

It is not only an amateur carnival trick either. Professional artists have adopted ice as a dramatic material and natural resource to work with, scoffing at the predictable outcome. Our environmental art superstar Andy Goldsworthy probably takes the cake with his seemingly unnatural spiraling ice sculptures attached together with his own saliva. What can he be learning about the earths wintry forces through these early morning explorations with this frozen substance? Jim Denevan, another artist uses the solid landmass ice forms as his canvas to draw large-scale perfect circular patterns through the snow. These ‘drawings’, I don’t doubt, may be interpreted by aliens as our attempt to communicate with them.

Science makes an appearance here as well. There have been science expeditions to Antarctica that invite artists who will use their art to make a statement about climate change and/or other interpretations of what they observe. In Copenhagen one artist sculpted a polar bear skeleton out of bronze and then used ice to form the outer layer of the body. As the temperatures warm the ice melts revealing what will eventually happen to the bears at the Poles if somehow climate change is not halted.

So from one town’s hallmark of a winter celebration, to an artist’s introspective lair and to highlight some of our worlds environmental issues I say ‘Here’s to Ice!’… now if it will only get cold enough for me to try my hand at it…

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There’s nothing more exciting in the art world for me than heading to NYC for the weekend to visit my creative friends and see in person big name and emerging artists.

Ai WeiWei Sunflower Seeds

 

Chelsea always makes it on my annual list of ‘must see’ places with blocks of art galleries showing the latest and greatest.  This year we walked there via the High Line, an elevated pedestrian walk and recent addition to Manhattan’s glamour and sightseeing. Walking literally through buildings and along billboards I admired the landscape design and the built-in contemporary wooden lounge chairs – making a mental note that this is one reason to come to the city in the nicer months.

Galleries in Chelsea are either hit or miss. They host names that are making a debut or controversial and questionable artists that haven’t quite broke into the museum world…yet. A few exhibits that sent the cognitive gears whirring started with the Mike Weiss Gallery showing the work of Will Kurtz, titled nothing but the respectable Extra Fucking Ordinary. At first glance my friends shied away from the peculiar sculptures seen through the display windows – but that is exactly why I wanted to go in. I don’t go to these galleries to see tame, pleasing work – I want my right & left brains to be stimulated, repulsed, interrogated and energized.  And yes this show was quite repulsive. Consider the first two life-size sculptures of dogs in their worst states, taking a shit and discreetly becoming erect. The natural habits of animals that we in all instances try to avoid this artist has immortalized. Yet somehow we see this as art because he is capturing the essence of a moment – of the ordinary. Through torn newspaper collage, wood, wire, screw and tape Kurtz captures disturbing poses and scenes from everyday life that we try to avoid or go unnoticed; a crude half-naked woman pulling on her nylons with a cigarette dangling from her mouth while a dog sniffs her ass; a sad sleeping ragged old man; unruly, overweight friends posing together as if at a tourist attraction.  Upon closer observation you notice the colorful newspaper images that have been randomly slapped together – may not be random at all. Pop-culture references, political images, and text placed just so remind us that even in those ordinary, unglamorous moments the media and our society impress us with these unattainable notions of beauty, sex, money and intellect.  Maybe Kurtz is asking ‘what’s so bad with being extra fucking ordinary anyway?’

Trapped in Hirst’s Spots!

Slushing through the snow to our next visual experience we had to check in at the Gagosian Gallery for big name artist Damien Hirst’s, The Complete Spot Paintings 1986 – 2011. Imagine being in a room as large or even BIGGER than a two-story house surrounded by spots. Perfectly round spots two times the size of you in vibrant hues and subtle tones, lurching off the stretched white canvas onto the wall. How does he find brushes so big and so precise to create the perfect circle? I felt like I was back in art school learning the meaning of the color wheel for the first time. Primary, secondary – wait what’s in between that…tertiary?! Where does Hirst mean to take us with these colors? Is there a formula, a mathematical equation? Leaving the large-scale paintings before I became trapped in the solution, led me to another room filled with a maze of smaller spots. The illusions tripled with hundreds of round circles in varying degrees of colors illuminating from a central point. Taking a step to close to observe the technique I thought I saw pencil lines… but the guard made me move back before I could be sure. I thought of a baker’s frosting tool for cakes, squirting out perfect dollops of color to be sweetly savored on a special occasion. My friends implored ‘can we get out of here?!’ before the spots swallowed us in a mixture of hues, tones and delusion.

Hidden behind frosted doors at the Mary Boone gallery the next exhibit of artist and political activist Ai Weiwei was subtle yet powerful. Millions

Close up of Sunflower Seeds

of ceramic hand painted sunflower seeds formed a large rectangle encompassing the gallery. Aesthetically I was only impressed upon close looking, admiring the realistic quality of the seeds and the delicately balanced layering to create the unified shape. Conceptually Weiwei takes us deeper into the political past of China, putting his own freedom at risk. Taken from the press release, “The sunflower, with its destiny to follow the sun, became a common metaphor for The People during China’s Cultural Revolution. At the same time, the seeds of the flower provided sustenance at all levels of society, and the ubiquitous discarded husks provided evidence of an individual’s existence. Ai Weiwei demonstrates that a staggering quantity of individual seeds may produce a deceptively unified field.”  See a video of the artist and project at  http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=PueYywpkJW8#!

The final performance, It’s a Draw by modern dancer and choreographer Trisha Brown left us appreciative of the intersection of the visual and kinesthetic. At first glance you wonder if these large-scale charcoal drawings can even be called drawings. They look like rudimentary marks in varying intensities with the occasional diffused footprint among the lines and smears. Could it be that the human figure was being denoted within the lines – or the mark making was a pure playful and heartfelt expression of the artist?  We discovered it was both. Brown and her colleagues transformed their physical, kinetic movements into drawings by holding charcoal in their toes and hands while dancing. The pieces came together in a new light – the intensely dark, short marks turned into a staccato tempo, the circular smudges a foot twirling en pointe, and the soft lines a delicate dancers toes. The intersection of tangible and intangible was observed on these walls and provided me with a satisfaction of the interdisciplinary language of the arts.

Till next time NYC! Artists please continue to inspire, provoke and provide something worth coming back for (I’m sure you will).

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Happy 2012 - keep on creating

Stocking stuffer is not a good gift for Poseidon

There is no shortage of treasures when you walk on the beach – however lately it’s been discouraging that a lot of the ‘treasures’ are trash. After a couple of days of strong winds and big surf the local beach had been transformed. The rocky facade had been covered by grainy sand pushed ashore by the ocean swells. Unfortunately the ocean swells had also washed ashore a variety surprising sea treasures you would more likely find for sale at your closest supermarket. Being an ocean advocate with some experience about the environmental issue of marine debris, I do tend to pointedly notice plastic pollution in such a natural state. However this day on the beach anyone would be wide-eyed, it looked more like shopping carts had dumped their contents in certain ‘pockets’ along the high tide line. Unfortunately I didn’t have a collection bag with me, but I tried to gather as much as I could in a found bucket. I wondered if the recent X-mas holiday had something to do with a few of the items…although I couldn’t imagine the ‘gifts’ being discarded so readily. These objects reminded me of the fact that 80% of marine debris is land based. That means most of the objects we find floating on our oceans or washed up on the coasts are from inland, streaming out of rivers, blowing out of trash cans and finding their way to sea level. Be aware it is not just the fisherman or marine workers and players that pollute this delicate eco-system, it is us & we need to take responsibility for it before we destroy it!

Below are some of the choice objects I documented after I found them on this blustery day at this beach opening up to the Atlantic. Should we hold the companies with their names plastered all over these objects responsible – or us the consumer?

Face down in the sand still in their plastic noose

 

Full bag of Chips!

Sperry's - a must for a day on the boat

Stocking stuffer is not a good gift for Poseidon

a little aspirin to mend our waters?!

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