Thursday, December 29, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
"She writes the way she dreams. Dreams of a life whose absence makes it all the more genuine, burning into clarity. The child does not enter into that life, nor does the husband, nor does she herself. It is a life she does not have, and yet it is her only life. She writes in order to have it. She writes for her daily bread, the one which is never given. The bread of silence, the loaf of light. The wheat of ink." Master Bobin
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
There's that pinch, you know the one,
that takes hold as you stir.
No boiling water is going to warm it up
And you wonder if love has dissolved
and left a melting ice cube on the sidewalk
that you kick it around till it’s gone.
Roaming in the vicissitude of my moods.
Tomorrow morning there may be sun, yes there may.
that takes hold as you stir.
No boiling water is going to warm it up
And you wonder if love has dissolved
and left a melting ice cube on the sidewalk
that you kick it around till it’s gone.
Roaming in the vicissitude of my moods.
Tomorrow morning there may be sun, yes there may.
Hooray!
For now we might as well enjoy the soup.
For now we might as well enjoy the soup.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
a sunday
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The body will speak the image, the language must be articulate, clear, spoken without reservation whether in sadness or joy, the commitment is total. Freedom and spontaneity rest light and secure on the discipline of training. The gift of many teachers is in who’s hands the even more precious gift of talent has been entrusted. This is the special world, in which life and artistry are one, woven from the same fabric. In this world the possibility of anything becomes the probability of everything. Limited only by the extent of the work that has been done and the bounds of the imagination of those involved. The prizes will be great, as will be the cost. Nothing less than total dedication.
-phyllis gutelius (martha graham dancer)
-phyllis gutelius (martha graham dancer)
today's word love
sub·tle/ˈsətl/
Adjective: |
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Friday, November 25, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Albert Cullum
If all children could be so lucky! From the documentary A Touch of Greatness.
"Every child has a success level, be it art, math, drama. It is a matter of finding it and that child will feel his success."
"A Touch of Greatness" 2002 (short trailer ver.) from Denise Petrizzo on Vimeo.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
aya's lullaby
you take a flower to the moon
and shatter it to silver pieces
plant the pieces
and grows a blossoming tree
of silver leaves and flowers...
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The best part of my job is getting to work with photographers I love. I've been an admirer of the photographer Laura Letinsky for years, so you can imagine my excitement when I suggested to our photo dept. that we use her for a upcoming floral story and she said yes. Can't wait!
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Yesterday Kai and I visited two city funded prek programs in carroll gardens and cobble hill. They serve the lower income community with clean and appropriate care for their kids on a sliding scale. The Warren Center, albeit it’s reminiscence to a clinic, showed a certain humanistic approach to the realities of what they were faced with being a city run program. The latin director who guided us through the school reflected on the problems of cut funds, removing hamburgers from the menu, expensive finger printing process on volunteers and lack of teachers in the afternoons. I liked her honesty and openness to look at the realities laid upon her and how she put forth her own ways of creatively coping with it. Little signs of flourishing showed here and there as herbs grew in potted beds on the roof top play ground, lively african american girls set up banquets in play time and vibrant art hung on the walls.
At Amico one entered with a similar clinical feeling, it’s halls were empty and yellowed, but clean. Our tour director was a young heavy woman with an overenthusiastic air who talked without pause and heaved as she climbed the school’s stairs. The first thing she did upon entering the 4 year old class that was in session was show us the bathroom. Was it to divert us from the fossilised head teacher instructing 10 wide eyed youth as she clapped her hands in a dead pan manner? Or the sickly obese assistant teacher sitting to the left who could barely walk across the room when she coldly assisted a child to wash his hands? How could this be I asked myself, that they could find a woman like that to be fit to teach? I’m not saying that a fat woman is not a good person, yet one must ask, that if a person is in such a state of severe health, how does that reflect on the vision they have of themselves and others.
My preference in regards to Jan was for him to go to the Warren Center, even if the class would consist mostly of girls and well what an experience for him, with his shock of blond hair and french tongue, to be embedded among such a diverse culture! Still my reflections after leaving both places was that why do city funded schools have to suffer such a depressed atmosphere? Why the clinical looking buildings, the obsession with hygiene and sterilizing sprays? There was a certain heaviness and lethargy. Why was music, art and yoga being cut? Surely in this large and abundant city there must be enough people who can volunteer their time twice a month for these children? And why would the city themselves, tax these schools so heavily with the weight of expensive finger printing costs ($150 x3 per teacher/staff)? We must be able to do better since right next door, ps. 32 and 58 (also public schools) are flourishing beyond belief with the support of the local community.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
when art is work
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
higher
There are times my heart cannot contain the abundance of feeling it has for you, overflowing into my fingers as I write, your presence lingers with me throughout the day. With you I can be alone, in your absence there is no need to miss you as you are there. Complete silence is as filling as our words. The eloquence you have in expression and thought is not one I will ever possess. My limited vocabulary and visual language will have to carry me along side you with a humbled quietness. Because of you I see the beauty in all men, their potential, their strengths and vulnerabilities. Watching my child place his hand in yours as it belonged there. That life could go on anew, different and not as a replacement, but a continuation of what is to be. There IS space for more.
Ingrid Berman by Yul Brynner
I love this private moment that Yul captured of Ingrid... perhaps on set, quietly reading her lines, going over the script. The partially open door, inviting and also showing restraint. And as I look up to the top of image and its make shift ceiling, I wonder if it is part of the film, that moment of solitude or just a place she tucked away to be by herself?
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