strands

illustrations so fresh they're not even eight hours old.

wallace stevens

Looking Across the Fields and Watching the Birds Fly

Among the more irritating minor ideas Of Mr. Homburg during his visits home To Concord, at the edge of things, was this: To think away the grass, the trees, the clouds, Not to transform them into other things, Is only what the sun does every day, Until we say to ourselves that there may be A pensive nature, a mechanical And slightly detestable operandum, free From man's ghost, larger and yet a little like, Without his literature and without his gods . . . No doubt we live beyond ourselves in air, In an element that does not do for us, so well, that which we do for ourselves, too big, A thing not planned for imagery or belief, Not one of the masculine myths we used to make, A transparency through which the swallow weaves, Without any form or any sense of form, What we know in what we see, what we feel in what We hear, what we are, beyond mystic disputation, In the tumult of integrations out of the sky, And what we think, a breathing like the wind, A moving part of a motion, a discovery Part of a discovery, a change part of a change, A sharing of color and being part of it. The afternoon is visibly a source, Too wide, too irised, to be more than calm, Too much like thinking to be less than thought, Obscurest parent, obscurest patriarch, A daily majesty of meditation, That comes and goes in silences of its own. We think, then as the sun shines or does not. We think as wind skitters on a pond in a field Or we put mantles on our words because The same wind, rising and rising, makes a sound Like the last muting of winter as it ends. A new scholar replacing an older one reflects A moment on this fantasia. He seeks For a human that can be accounted for. The spirit comes from the body of the world, Or so Mr. Homburg thought: the body of a world Whose blunt laws make an affectation of mind, The mannerism of nature caught in a glass And there become a spirit's mannerism, A glass aswarm with things going as far as they can.

calma

beginning in 2006, brazilian street artist calma painted a whole town in bahia.

TEMPORAL : The Art of Stephan Doitschinoff (aka Calma) from Jonathan LeVine Gallery on Vimeo.

the dry goods shop

the dry goods shop on haywood road is selling my prints--and they gave me a little nod on their site! (as well as a friend of mine, heidi gruner.) swing by if you're in asheville: everything they sell is handmade (and well made, and beautiful) and they have classes that change weekly. you can sign up for their newsletter if you're interested, or just stop in wednesday through sunday.

update

i updated my website! new paintings, illustrations, wall pieces, etc.

the wall i just finished (above) is for a video piece shot by adam hillberry featuring a movement piece choreographed by garth grimball based on pantomime and the characters of harlequin and columbine.

bahia, brazil

lights

light installation by bruce munro, "field of lights"

bioluminescent jellyfish

phosphuorescent calcite

ferris wheel, paris (paris wheel!)

fireflies

more fireflies

yayoi kusama's light installation, "fireflies"

lantern festival, taiwan

parade of lanterns, china

drawings

pen drawings from a new sketchbook:

jaz

jaz from buenos aires:

blackbirds

i drove through arkansas last week and there were more birds in the sky then i'd ever seen in arkansas. i find out that on the same day, or maybe the next day, thousands of them fell dead out of the sky. no official explanation.