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Written by admin on May 27th, 2009Root Down Ride Around
Written by admin on February 26th, 2009
In conjunction with Bike Summit, an all-day conference for bicycle advocacy, I wanted to organize a ride to re-visit some places that have helped make la a more bicycle-friendly town. what can i say, I’m sentimental. It occurred to me that it’s always a good thing to remind people about the roots of what’s come before. In this age of up to the minute “what-I-am-doing-now” blogs and twitters, it’s funny how 5 years + is a loooooong time. please, join us! joe linton helped me come up with the route and made the rad illustration.
Hollyhock A Capella
Written by admin on February 17th, 2009A photo to tide it over. Dave and I have been finalizing files for a limited run cd of the chorale performance. Thanks to Cottage Home for the stairwell and Bettina Hubby for the fantastic costume design.
High Desert Test Sites
Written by admin on November 12th, 2008produced for Rainbow’s End, the inaugural exhibition of Wonder Valley Institute for Contemporary Art during the High Desert Test Sites. I was thinkin’ about old-time fiddle tunes, an old blues standard, my old friend, the coyote, and an old box that I filled with desert rocks. This also held the sound and was laid down gently on the floor.
http://www.wvica.org/
What time is it?
Written by admin on November 4th, 2008OBAMA TIME!!!!
Beautiful Readers
Written by admin on October 23rd, 2008Tuesday night I decided to throw my bike on the bus, I was so tired and I saw the most beautiful thing. I like to sit in the accordion section of the bus because I can tuck my pannier in between the seat and the high step of the bench seat. Then I can pull out my book. There was a lady sitting across from me also reading. Just before the border of Santa Monica and Westwood these two young boys got on and sat next to me and her respectively as we each had empty seats next to us as we faced each other. They were between 9-12, latino and brothers. They were both wearing jeans and punk rock shirts and black sweatshirts and were carrying black backpacks. They sat down and the older brother handed across a peppermint candy then they both reached into their backpacks and pulled out books. AND pens! The younger brother was sitting next to me and he was reading Lord of the Flies and highlighting with an orange highlighter. The older brother across from me was reading Civil Disobedience and chose to mark his book with a blue pen and brackets. They read the whole way to Normandie. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, “we’re in the reading section,” as I feared they’d just think I was an old dork. I just sat reading and looking up and marvelling at these budding intellectuals, dissidents, radical thinkers and allowed myself to imagine a whole story about somehow running into one of them in twenty years at a gathering or action of some sort. In this time of a daily barrage of bad news it’s all I have to hold onto–the FUTURE.
blackbloc sons and little ones.
100 More Days of Bush
Written by admin on October 12th, 2008This is the little bit of sunshine in these past couple of weeks. ONLY 100 more days of BUSH! Tommorrow we begin to sing, “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer.” Admittedly, I have been consumed with all the news that’s fit to print (blog) in the past months. My rounds: LA Times, Huffington Post, Marc Cooper, Anchorage Daily News and sometimes Salon.com, NY Times and CNN. And occasionally crimethinc (this is one of my favorites.) I especially love reading reader comments at the Anchorage Daily News. Alaskans are NUTZ. (speaking as one.)
The other bit of sunshine? Why Bettina Hubby’s CoTour! Come to Barnsdall Art Park today at 3pm to see Kelly and David at our stop with the Hollyhock Hummers performing our choral work: Untitled Feathery Chorale #1. Bettina has outfitted the chorus in an intrepetive uniform hollyhock bush replete with branches and sweet birds and for us two? Holy crap, it’s beautiful. We’ve used the word festooned and with the cooperation of the sun you’ll be dazzled by our silhouettes and awestruck by the reveal as our voices join with the chorus and soar.
100 days and counting. alas, don’t hold your breath!
LOVE!
The Alchemy of Ancestry
Written by admin on September 17th, 2008the city
Rejmyre Matters
Written by admin on September 17th, 2008It really did.
I was invited to participate in this exchange/exhibition from my involvement with Civic Matters at LACE in 2006 by Veronica Wiman and Sissi Westerberg. Coincidentally, I had just booked a flight to Sweden and simply had to extend my trip by a week in order to participate. Rejmyre has a glass factory (glasbruk) that has a little “village” with craft boutiques, antique shops, a delicious bakery and café, a blacksmith, its own glass museum and an exhibition space–Engelska Magasinet.
The Alchemy of Ancestry
The invitation to participate in Rejmyre Matters coincided with a planned trip to visit Sweden, my mother’s homeland to which I have not been in over 15 years. I came to Sweden many times as a child and learned enough Swedish to speak to my mormor and morfar. We spent a handful of summers at my grandparents cottage on the colony of Brändaholm on the island of Dragsö and my connections to that place are so deep that I have recurring adventure dreams that take place there. In imagining a project i could do while at the Rejmyre glasbruk I could not help but think about these connections–the many relatives my mother tries to remind me I met over coffee when I was seven. I got a book from the Los Angeles public library, Swedish Glass, by Elisa Steenberg published in 1952, which covers the early history of Swedish glass production. I scanned a lot of the small black and white images of different glassware and began to manipulate them into a city and silhouettes. One of the silhouettes appeared to look like a kiss. I thought of lips on glass and I remembered the glasses I used to drink hallonsaft from–the same ones from which I was now drinking wine with my cousins and uncle and husband. We were on the island of Aspö, my mormor’s birthplace and as we walked my mother talked about the homestead and the relatives and I wanted to hear a list of those names from her lips. I wanted to hear this with the mix of the sound of glass being blown as an intimation of the magick of glassmaking and ancestry. It can be held in hand, in symbol or heard through story, or song or held in taste and touch as lips to glass to tongue to liquid–the alchemy of memory, like glass.
Let’s Go!!!
Written by admin on September 16th, 2008