I wrote something and I want to share it. Even though I don’t ever really let people read my stuff.

It’s a working title. An annotation is available should anyone want it.

Borges was the main inspiration for the work; he disliked fathers and mirrors for they created imperfect duplications.

That which contained Nothingness in its essence

Her father was a glasscutter. Her mother had been dishonoured. The girl in question, who was but an infant at that time, was born in 1396 in Crna Gora , nearly one century after its first recorded mention by a king in some personal papers.

She had been offered a privileged life before she was old enough to refuse. She liked to smoke tobacco in the bath, and to ponder cross sections of the earth. She liked to think of the core as a cauldron of boiling liquid, swaying with the planet’s pull. She liked to think clouds were painted on the sky.

Her father cut glass. Her mother complained of imaginary maladies. She played in a walled garden for most of her childhood, though she dreamed of imaginary worlds.

Today, she was lying in the sun and her skin grew paler. She had been by the garden’s pond for the morning amid the constant arrivals and departures of an avian genealogy ; the sun was just overhead. Standing up, she became faint. Her head felt empty, hollow.

Her father read a book. Her mother slept. She would peer through the door, but could read only the title.

The sun hit the road, and you could see it sweat in the distance. The earth seemed alive. The earth seemed an athlete, billions of years old, in constant rotation like a discus thrower. The pathway twisted down the hill as she staggered toward her home. Blinded by the humidity and hazy sun, her focus faded in and out.

Her father sold his glass to mirror merchants. Her mother went for ‘treatments.’ She, too, read The Anglo-American Cyclopaedia but found it dull.

One by one, the fingers of her left hand slowly went cold, then lost feeling. Freezing in the high heat, they turned white before crumbling. Her right hand soon followed. She left a trail of small, white, round balls behind her as she staggered along.

N 31. I 27. B 5. N 37. G 57. I 28. O 72 …

She willed herself to disappear.

She vanished. Her mother ceased complaining of imaginary maladies. Her father ceased cutting glass.

a little ditty for Klaus by Nienkamper January 2010

(All Photos by: Zuzana H.)

GRACE ODYSSEY

… My late night ramblings … because I miss you … mom.

I am the spoon and the soup and the body eating the nutritious meal and the meal itself

I am beyond this earth and beneath its roots drinking the water that nourishes

and I am the water

The grace that is inside us,

I cannot speak to you about destiny but I can show you the love inside my heart

I can make you feel this

I can love you and you can trust my grace you can trust my love

I could embrace the whole world right now if my arms weren’t tied to my body

If my tongue wasn’t inside my mouth it would spell out my love to the whole universe

If my beauty was brave it would make flowers tremble with love

If your tenderness was felt by the moon, it would light up another galaxy

I could speak to you about how moved I feel in your presence

about how speechless my mind is rendered when I feel you – LIFE

This is my odyssey, my flight into the abyss of the unknown,

and it is my revolution of love and my revolution of the spirit, this flight into the abyss

… beyond myself, beyond words and beyond space and things

… this is beyond the moon and the sun

This is about the indescribable grace that I feel when ALIVE

This is about the indescribable lightness of being that I feel when in your presence, LIFE

This is love

This is grace

This is tenderness and wisdom of the galaxy within us

This is profound and you are profound within it,

we are the children of our mothers who are the children of their fathers

who birthed ideas and ideals and who loved and cried

and who fought for the eternal grace.

(by z.h.)

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From Kahlil Gibran’s THE PROPHET - ‘On Pain.’

“And he said:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun,

so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life,

your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

(photo by: zuzana hudackova / in this image: agi gutkowska)

‘Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility:

(photo by: zuzana hudackova / in this image: agi gutkowska)

‘For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay

which the Potter has moistened with his owns sacred tears.”

From Kahlil Gibran’s THE PROPHET - On Pain.

Sounds Like Silence (teaser)

PDF of press release for download here

http://www.applecrisp.ca
http://www.happiness-project.ca
http://www.myspace.com/charlesspearin

Links to Artists’ work
Don Maynard
Jon Claytor
Nicole Aline Legault
Watch the video about the project with Nicole’s images here.
Josh Lyon
Marny McDiarmid
Annie Clifford
Jeff Barbeau + Vince Perez
Arron Gibson

APPLE CRISP CONTACT : festivalplanning@yahoo.com
ARTIST BLOC CONTACT : agi@artistbloc.com

FB EVENT PAGE (RSVP) : http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=323729918327&ref=mf

Cara Spooner and Alicia Grant are on the move again with a new piece and residency at the Harbourfront Centre as part of the HATCH emerging performance series.

Body Cartography

Created in collaboration with visual artist Simon Rabyniuk, as well as urban theorist Alex Marques, Body Cartography emphasizes and distorts the idea of a city within a city. A performance that mixes disparate details of balancing on rooftops, walking home alone at night, raiding secret swimming pools and feeling too close to strangers – employing installation, dance and question and answer periods.

“Cara Spooner and Alicia Grant make films, installations, curated events, subtle interventions and performances. They come from a contemporary dance lineage and integrate the physicality of their dance backgrounds into their practice and conceptual performances. They collaboratively create art that amplifies, distorts and/or frames everyday experience, drawing attention to disparate details like personal space, contemporary mythology, architecture of food courts and how fast cars can actually move with dances, installations and question and answer periods. They merge inner and outer stimuli to create live art events that are a convergence of their own bodies and the world around them. Their interdisciplinary collaborations unpack the notion of artist as social being into a relational art practice.” from Harbourfront site.

February 25 & 27, 8 p.m at Harbourfront Centre. Studio Theatre. York Quay Centre, 235 Queens Quay West (Map)

Regular: $12 Student/Senior or Arts Worker: $10

APRICOT, short film by Ben Briand (sponsored by his incredible actors and crew) from Moonwalk Films on Vimeo.