portal for creative expression
There is a difference between the ‘is’ of identity and the ‘is’ of prediction. There is no single thing that is death, AND there is no single property which the many forms of deaths share. For that matter, no single form of death has an essence. We thus live not so much in a patchwork quilt of death, but a kaleidoscope of deaths.
NON GRATA GROUP [ESTONIA / GLOBAL] Fri, November 22, 2019Doors 8:30 Performance 9:00Grace Exhibition Space182 Avenue C, New York, New York 11206 Wild Visuals,…
It is an opportunity to receive insights and experience new realizations, especially with the Sun in Scorpio, with its desire to transform into the higher place of power. Through this process we can gain a new awareness working with energies and grounding them.
Cairo Cairo is such a strange, exciting, exhausting, beautiful, adventurous city.i haven’t seen any place like it. from being an American, it is vastly…
by Robert Creeley ~ détourned by Steve Finbow As I sd to my friend, because I am always talking,—Jorn, I sd, which was not his name, the…
We know that patriarchy and its neoliberal offspring have destroyed the planet and quite nearly destroyed us, and we know that the answer to this path of destruction lies in unlocking the secrets of the brujas and the xamans and connecting with Mother Earth and tuning our lives to Her.
There’s a plight being delivered. She has a fetish for being the final historian, the final cultural avatar, she feeds the need and hence must take the persona of goddess, a tragedian and cremator of worlds. In a world of diffracted male fact she becomes a curator of new worlds. It’s a heavy responsibility bearing distress, loneliness as well as good bourn. She builds using memory, imagination and exterior English, that is, a language that remains out of touch with both itself and her cerebral thoughts. The collection reads like a long message in a bottle, from someone who lives elsewhere, and knows more than what would be found in a normal message or letter.
The texts are multidimensional throughout, leaping off the page, not nestling comfortably within the whiteness, ‘sculptures that looked nothing like words’ as Anonymous states or words that burn and dance as Tanya Zeifer intones. There is Blakean joy and mysticism in these works, fused with a synchronic understanding of language in the internet era.