Stephen Beveridge
Washington Heights, New York City
Snow
Flash animation
Stillness isn't very exciting. Not at first anyway. With patience the
quiet can reveal something very exciting indeed.
It's sorta like the predator waiting for burrow emergence. There is a
heightened sense of anticipation. Unlike the predator I have little faith,
and an overactive brain. My brain starts to question the wisdom of waiting.
Will the reward be worth it? Am I wasting time better spent on other sure-fire
pursuits of happiness? I can watch these thoughts as they pass to be replaced
by a new thought. An endless stream of them till I die.
Mostly judgements:
Is this worthwhile?
Is there something better?
Does he have it?
How did he get it?
Can I get it?
How can I get it?
Will it be worth it?
Is there something better?
If i make a decision, set an intention, to wait out the thoughts to postpone
action for a while the stillness sets in.
So what's so exciting about that?
Consider the endless parade of thoughts and judgments from birth to death.
No wonder we need to sleep yet they still go on. What if by making the
decision to remain still we find a new way to be, different than the way
we spend 99.999% of our time for generations? What if the monks are right
and nirvana is in the stillness? It's not in the stock market, super market
, or the meat market. God knows we've looked there. Yet that voice says
"look again". What is that voice? Victor said, "If the
house is on fire, get out. Don't ask why. Get out
Lale Davidson
Saratoga Springs, New York
Cinquain: After Autumn
poem
Rosa Naparstek
Washington Heights, New York City
Party Room Available
photograph
On my mind right now is an article
I read about our collective delusion that life as we know it will continue
endlessly and uninterrupted (as if that would even be a good thing) because
fossil fuels will be replaced by new innovative technologies capable of
turning fairy dust into diesel fuel. The future is going to have to be
very different than the present if we are even to have a future. The challenges
are enormous, but also exciting because we will have to face each other
and ask the fundamental questions that we run away from personally and
collectively: who are we, why are we and most importantly, what is really
important.
James Huckenpahler
Washington, D.C.
untitled
digital print
i want to assemble a panel
discussion on the future of america
the panelists would be
bruce sterling
ken wilbur
john waters
Harley Fine
Inwood, New York City
Urban DK #1
photograph
This photo is part of my Urban DK series of decayed distorted new york
images or just unintentional accidental images. Most of the series has
been of an architectural nature. This is the first depicting a person.
It's an accidental photo that has a lot of energy. It possibly proves
that art can be created without the assistance of your brain.
Karien Vandekerkhove
Flanders, Belgium
there_is_10
photograph
PP
New York City
Paper Doll
paper and cellophane collage
So happy to see the Artists Unite write-up about Sackler Center for Feminist
Art. I didn't know about it. It's satisfying how Sky covers all the issues.
70s feminism is back for me in a big way ... I won't go into it [call
for details]. I just watched Sketches of Frank Gehry where there
was not one reference to a female artist, musician, or writer, but tons
to men. It's so frustrating, but you know the story [as agreed upon by
Rabbi Shmuley Boteach in his interesting book, Hating Women: America's
Hostile Campaign Against the Fairer Sex]. But thank goodness I can
enjoy experiencing what is subtle [dare I say spiritual] and overlooked.
Though I'm not visually crazy about Judy Chicago's famous piece, I love
that there are dishes. And for my frequent reverent reference to lyrics:
Laura Nyro sings be-utifully about dishes drying. And Jane Siberry wrote
about loving dust.
Sweep the floor while the dishes dry
Spring whispered in her ear like soft Mediterranean wailing
[Upstairs by a Chinese Lamp]
There
There's the sun
through the bars
cutting swathes
lighting dust
I love dust
that it's there
that it falls
[Seven Steps to the Wall]
Claire Adas
Lambertville, New Jersey
Tines
digital video
The most important thing on my mind right now is trying to appreciate
all that I have.
Anthony Gonzalez
Washington Heights, New York City
Diebenkorn's Egg (and the Golden Mean)
photograph
"...a bevy of experiments in recent years suggest that the conscious
mind is like a monkey riding a tiger of subconscious decisions and actions
in progress, frantically making up stories about being in control."
Dennis Overbye - in the New York Times
TWO
PREDICTIONS
1.
I'm about to become the most famous artist on the planet. Like a huge
shooting star flashing across the night sky, it will happen in an instant,
and then I will just as quickly disappear.
2.
This is a primitive planet that is about to wake up to a far deeper
understanding of what life in this universe is actually about. Something
like Galileo's time, squared a few times. It will be as different as
flying saucers landing in everyone's back yard. Life as you have known
it, is about to change.
Tim Folzenlogen
Montclaire, New Jersey
Two Predictions
text
Jacqueline Rosa
East HaveConnecticut
Untitled
watercolor on cold press
I am thinking about connections
noticing the way watercolors blend
and change because of each other
Suzanne Malitz
Inwood, New York City
Sisters
watercolor and gouache on paper, 7" x 14"
This drawing is part of an ongoing series of odalisques that I have been
working on since the fall. This one reminded me of one of my favorite
paintings by Goya, Majas on a Balcony.
Harold Wallin
Washington Heights, New York City
Untitled
photograph
I am always thinking about good quotes I've read which remind me of my
work to do. The recent one is from John Updike, "... where my only
duty was to describe reality as it had come to me — to give the
mundane its beautiful due."
Nick Holliday
Great Barrington, Massachusetts
Fathers Day
collage
toon botwin
New York City
shock the monkey
mixed media
** _ what is the most important thing on my mind right now? _
main entry: se·cu·ri·ty
pronunciation: si-'kyur-&-tE
function: noun
SAFETY b : freedom from fear or anxiety
PROTECTION b (1) : measures taken
to guard against espionage or sabotage,
crime, attack, or escape
I have always believed that a piece of art should stand on its own, should
challenge the observer and perhaps even raise some questions. This morning
I had just emerged from the subway at Columbus Circle, already late [and
nervous] for an emergency appointment with a new dentist. As I passed
a line of cars actually parked in the circle, I was not thinking ART,
but my eye was caught by this snow covered black SUV. I had to turn aside
and take the picture. Many questions suggested themselves. Did the writer
know the car owner? Were there some intense feelings between them? If
they were strangers, was there something about that SUV which suggested
that the driver was gay and compelled the writer to inscribe the car?
The snowy car window was a blank canvas -- but why a statement about someone's
sexual orientation? It reminded me of that Tom Lerher song, "Be prepared:
Don't write naughty words on walls if you can't spell..." The way
it was written almost demanded a response. Yeh-- I'm gay and you are undereducated!
Or maybe there was a word missing-- perhaps he had intended to say something
about the car owner's mother... there were so many possibilities to consider
standing there in the snow and sleet at 8:30am, but I had to get to the
dentist and I was already late. I hope my dentist does not read this...
I blamed the subway.
Melissa Guion
Washington Heights, New York City
Fat Wad
colored pencil drawings recombined in
Photoshop
What is the most important thing on my mind right now?:
Whether it's practical to move to a houseboat.
Peter Ferko
Washington Heights, New York City
variations on a coffee cup
photograph
The most important thing on my mind is to reorder so that the most important
things are at the top of the prority list.