Showing posts with label soul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soul. Show all posts
Friday, June 15, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Céleste Boursier-Mougenot//Barbican Centre, London
Trained as a musician and composer, French artist Céleste Boursier-Mougenot creates works by drawing on the rhythms of daily life to produce sound in unexpected ways. His installation for The Curve will take the form of a walk-though aviary for a flock of zebra finches, furnished with electric guitars and other instruments and objects. As the birds go about their routine activities, perching on or feeding from the various pieces of equipment, they create a captivating, live soundscape. more about the venue, here...
Labels:
finch,
French,
guitar,
interconnectedness,
London,
music,
performance art,
soul,
sound
Thursday, October 20, 2011
MaryOliver//Bone
1.
Understand, I am always trying to figure out
what the soul is,
and where hidden,
and what shape
and so, last week,
when I found on the beach
the ear bone
of a pilot whale that may have died
hundreds of years ago, I thought
maybe I was close
to discovering something
for the ear bone
2.
is the portion that lasts longest
in any of us, man or whale; shaped
like a squat spoon
with a scoop where
once, in the lively swimmer's head,
it joined the two sisters
in the house of hearing,
it was only
two inches long
and thought: the soul
might be like this
so hard, so necessary
3.
yet almost nothing.
Beside me
the gray sea
was opening and shutting its wave-doors,
unfolding over and over
its time-ridiculing roar;
I looked but I couldn't see anything
through its dark-knit glare;
yet don't we all know, the golden sand
is there at the bottom,
though our eyes have never see it,
nor can our hands ever touch it
4.
lest we would sift it down
into fractions, and facts
certainties
and what the soul is, also
I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know
our part is not knowing,
but looking, and touching, and loving,
which is the way I walked on,
softly,
through the pale-pink morning light.
Understand, I am always trying to figure out
what the soul is,
and where hidden,
and what shape
and so, last week,
when I found on the beach
the ear bone
of a pilot whale that may have died
hundreds of years ago, I thought
maybe I was close
to discovering something
for the ear bone
2.
is the portion that lasts longest
in any of us, man or whale; shaped
like a squat spoon
with a scoop where
once, in the lively swimmer's head,
it joined the two sisters
in the house of hearing,
it was only
two inches long
and thought: the soul
might be like this
so hard, so necessary
3.
yet almost nothing.
Beside me
the gray sea
was opening and shutting its wave-doors,
unfolding over and over
its time-ridiculing roar;
I looked but I couldn't see anything
through its dark-knit glare;
yet don't we all know, the golden sand
is there at the bottom,
though our eyes have never see it,
nor can our hands ever touch it
4.
lest we would sift it down
into fractions, and facts
certainties
and what the soul is, also
I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know
our part is not knowing,
but looking, and touching, and loving,
which is the way I walked on,
softly,
through the pale-pink morning light.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
TaraDonovan/OrganicArtistry
Tara Donovan: born and raised in NY, Ms. Donovan is an artist who transforms everyday disposable items into elegant sculptures and instillations. As she explains, "My work might appear 'organic' or 'alive' specifically because my process mimics, in the most elementary sense, basic systems of growth found in nature."
Labels:
abstract,
alive,
art,
eco,
illumination,
instillation,
organic,
sculpture,
soul,
Tara Donovan
Monday, August 29, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
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