My first hand has found its way back from Iceland to another loving and supportive hand in NY!
Thank you Giovanni Di Mola.
Found: My existence
Found: My existence
(Final Installation at BAER)
These are a few images from my final installation during the art exhibit at BAER art center in Iceland. (I am waiting to receive more images that will show details and other views, at which time I will add them here.) I will say that documenting this piece is very difficult as its ethereal in light quality and also quite large. This installation is created with found plastic all of which I treated to preserve the marks of nature that existed and some of which I painted my hand prints and hand marks in red paint. The piece is hung in order for viewers to walk through and discover my marks of existence. Rather then explain everything I will tell you what I thought of while making this:
- Skin, being in and out of one's skin
- "hanging out to dry"
- "making a mark"
- Plastic and it's inability to recycle, that its non-perishable and how its affecting our planet, how it's a sign and product of our times
- The walls at the Caves of Chauvet, and the earliest human paintings-their marks-the need to express their time, humanity and individuality
- Finding oneself, self-discovery
- The earths relentless desire to take back what it creates and transform it into something else.
- eternity
Elemental Paintings, Úti á vídavangi
Hands like feathers in the field
dirt & stream water on canvas painted in a field of horses and a shallow ravine
Breath of fragile loneliness
pond mud and brackish water on canvas, painted under a rocky cliff on a bed of stones where the ocean kisses the pond
blíð (gentle, tender)
Dandelion and sandy dirt on canvas, painted on a barren rock island, protected by fierce winds, beside a tear shaped pool
Unearthing to be enough
Pond mud, iron, and ocean water on canvas, painted on top of a steep cliff overlooking the gleaming arctic ocean
“We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn…It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful, but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of the arts.”
Henry David Thoreau Walden, (pg. 134)
Úti á vídavangi (out in the open air)
Delivered (by a swan)
Delivered
eye sea time
when the swans
climb the ledge
each morning
born again
This is my final 'hands' installation in Iceland. Its made from swan feathers I collected in the fields on my walks, 35 pairs of my hands cut out, and a silver lined net I hand knit.
The 'Hands' installations started as a representation of the 70 helping hands of the many people who helped make it possible to come to BAER. I had promised some of the last donors a handmade postcard from Iceland. On my airplane trip out here I thought; "I don't want to make representations of Iceland on a postcard, I want to give them a piece of Iceland and an experience. I want to put their hands where I place mine." When I arrived I had no idea where to begin. The spaciousness of Baer overwhelmed me physically and psychologically. On the second day I decided to start where I thought I would end, making the postcards. The hands became a godsend. They immediately where more then a postcard, they became my wings. I have often looked down into my hands and marvelled at how they look like a birds wing (go ahead, look down, put your thumb against your other fingers and there is your wing!) And so, that was the beginning of my work here.
I'm not sure I'm ready to properly summarize my experience here, as I think there is going to be quite a bit more that will continue on. (I have sooooooo much more work to show you-even just more about this last installation!) I would say being at BAER has been searching, discovering and a mighty delivery.
PS. I love how some of these pictures have the string visible. It's important to know that I don't manipulate my images, they are as seen through the camera. I believe we can still see and find amazing things with our eyes alone.
The 'Hands' installations started as a representation of the 70 helping hands of the many people who helped make it possible to come to BAER. I had promised some of the last donors a handmade postcard from Iceland. On my airplane trip out here I thought; "I don't want to make representations of Iceland on a postcard, I want to give them a piece of Iceland and an experience. I want to put their hands where I place mine." When I arrived I had no idea where to begin. The spaciousness of Baer overwhelmed me physically and psychologically. On the second day I decided to start where I thought I would end, making the postcards. The hands became a godsend. They immediately where more then a postcard, they became my wings. I have often looked down into my hands and marvelled at how they look like a birds wing (go ahead, look down, put your thumb against your other fingers and there is your wing!) And so, that was the beginning of my work here.
I'm not sure I'm ready to properly summarize my experience here, as I think there is going to be quite a bit more that will continue on. (I have sooooooo much more work to show you-even just more about this last installation!) I would say being at BAER has been searching, discovering and a mighty delivery.
PS. I love how some of these pictures have the string visible. It's important to know that I don't manipulate my images, they are as seen through the camera. I believe we can still see and find amazing things with our eyes alone.
Touch Stone
touch·stone/ˈtəCHˌstōn/Noun
1. A piece of fine-grained dark schist or jasper formerly used for testing alloys of gold or silver by observing the color of the mark that they made on it.
2. A standard or criterion by which something is judged or recognized.
Heartfelt
I learned to knit.
A mother shared her love in Iceland.
My hands looping thoughts and memories
creating something soft-to cradle a heart.
My hands looping thoughts and memories
creating something soft-to cradle a heart.
Heartlisten
Heartlisten: (heart·lis·ten) v. pronounced artlisten (a silent 'H')
1. The art of hearing or listening with your heart.
2. To feel the sound of something.
I sat on the cliffs, heartlistening the ocean.
One needs to go out in the fields and heartlisten the winds.
When searching for your truth, heartlisten for the answer.
origin:
2011, North American English, a compound word from the nouns Heart and Art, and the verbs Hear and Listen. Created by artist Dawn Breeze
inspiration:
Jónas Hallgrímsson (November 16, 1807 – May 26, 1845) was an Icelandic poet, author and naturalist. He also contributed to the Icelandic language by adding words, such as; reikistjarna. This word means Planet and is derived from the words Að reika (to wander) and Stjarna (star).
I understand Jónas's need to create words here in Iceland. Every day I am experiencing nature and myself in new ways, soft nuances as well as bold pronouncements and many of these experiences do not have the correct descriptive words in our English language. Our common language has become so broad and dull, and our experiences generalized in our vocabulary. I think that if we were able to communicate about finer particulars we would have and feel a deeper connection with one another.
1. The art of hearing or listening with your heart.
2. To feel the sound of something.
I sat on the cliffs, heartlistening the ocean.
One needs to go out in the fields and heartlisten the winds.
When searching for your truth, heartlisten for the answer.
origin:
2011, North American English, a compound word from the nouns Heart and Art, and the verbs Hear and Listen. Created by artist Dawn Breeze
inspiration:
Jónas Hallgrímsson (November 16, 1807 – May 26, 1845) was an Icelandic poet, author and naturalist. He also contributed to the Icelandic language by adding words, such as; reikistjarna. This word means Planet and is derived from the words Að reika (to wander) and Stjarna (star).
I understand Jónas's need to create words here in Iceland. Every day I am experiencing nature and myself in new ways, soft nuances as well as bold pronouncements and many of these experiences do not have the correct descriptive words in our English language. Our common language has become so broad and dull, and our experiences generalized in our vocabulary. I think that if we were able to communicate about finer particulars we would have and feel a deeper connection with one another.
a dream
I've been having a recurring dream-of a hand placed on my back.
The feeling is always the same.
The feeling is always the same.
raunveruleiki er það sem er
Reality is what is
Þú ert að gera ráð fyrir að tilvist og raunveruleiki sé það sama
Reality is what is
Þú ert að gera ráð fyrir að tilvist og raunveruleiki sé það sama
You have to assume that existence and reality are the same
hvað er skýring á tilvist
what is a definition of existence
Dögun Gola
Dawn Breeze
hvað skilgreinir tilveru mína
what defines my existence
hvað skilgreinir mig
what defines me
...
eilíft stund
an eternal moment
Starlight
Directions on how to have a phenomenal experience:
1. Go to the sea, or any body of water where sunlight is reflecting. (The type of sunlight that's dancing on the lightly rippling surface)
2. Turn your body parallel to the water and the sunlight dazzle stars. (So only one side of you is facing the water)
3. Close your one eye that is not facing the water.
4. Squint the eye that is looking at the water. Squint it down to just a little slant.
5. Enjoy the most amazing starlight show!
2. Turn your body parallel to the water and the sunlight dazzle stars. (So only one side of you is facing the water)
3. Close your one eye that is not facing the water.
4. Squint the eye that is looking at the water. Squint it down to just a little slant.
5. Enjoy the most amazing starlight show!
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