Monday, November 28, 2011

Speaking in Tongues

Christy Langer

Urs Fischer
Audrey Kawasaki
Fuco Ueda
Hayv Kahraman
Riikka Sormunen
Kat Gun
Anton Kannemeyer & Conrad Botes
Alvaro Tapia
AJ Fosik
Petrina Hicks
E.V. Day
Martin Colairo
Piero Fornasetti
Yuka Yamaguchi
Heiko Muller

Tongues are rather strange. Like a hidden tentacle, they are the only organ that can pop out of the body from the inside. There are a plethora of associations tied to tongues; the gentle lick of a lioness and her cub, a tongue of fire that can be ablaze with hurtful words. Hidden in their symbolism is the power to nurture or destroy us. The child-like act of sticking out one's tongue is a subtle act of rebellion or resistance to conform. Embedded in their imagery is perhaps an archetypal link to creation. It was the Egyptian Creator, Ptah, who manifested the world he had incubated in his heart only when he spoke it out loud with his tongue. 

 Haiku by Bruce Edmonds

Even the dark mouth 
of a falling wave, speaks with
a tongue of moonlight

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Earth to Air

 Schiavonetti, Soul Leaving the Body, 1808
Frida Kahlo, The Dream, 1940
Jon Macnair

Loui Jover
Miss Van
Adam Letch, Leaving the Body, 2002
William Blake

Friday, July 29, 2011

Inside Out

Catrin Welz-Stein
Elena Kalis
Diane Victor
David Ho
Frida Kahlo

 Ken Wong

Inside Out
By Diane Wakoski

I walk the purple carpet into your eye
carrying the silver butter server
but a truck rumbles by,
                      leaving its black tire prints on my foot
and old images          the sound of banging screen doors on hot   
             afternoons and a fly buzzing over the Kool-Aid spilled on   
             the sink
flicker, as reflections on the metal surface.

Come in, you said,
inside your paintings, inside the blood factory, inside the   
old songs that line your hands, inside
eyes that change like a snowflake every second,
inside spinach leaves holding that one piece of gravel,
inside the whiskers of a cat,
inside your old hat, and most of all inside your mouth where you   
grind the pigments with your teeth, painting
with a broken bottle on the floor, and painting
with an ostrich feather on the moon that rolls out of my mouth.

You cannot let me walk inside you too long inside   
the veins where my small feet touch
You must reach inside and pull me
like a silver bullet
from your arm.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

The Third Eye

Frida Kahlo, Diego and I, 1949
Rima Dartmoor
Lauren Albert
Sulamith Wulfing, Third Eye
Charmaine Olivia
Mark Ryden
Cynthia Torroll, The Third Eye
Tara McPherson
Lauren Albert

Third Eye Haiku

invisible wings
endless universe to see
open third eye

Sharmishtha Basu