Friday, September 30, 2011

not a bird but a man

soon to remove the 50-70' pine that precariously leans toward the hermitage--lop the top then chop chop. thud crunch down it's coming.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

the smell of rain drifts with the rumble

the moist breeze cools and the hawk glides touching down. the sky ladened with gray, dips low, heavy with unreleased relief, and the cardinals ignore the predator who watches for something different. the deer already scampered from view results of my clunking and banging about with my additional unloads. the pack of all of two dogs yelp, one high, one low, and carry on as they do everyday this time. you'd think these country pups would figure out that their ruckus is for not. the breeze cools further with each rumble as I ponder the ikea household trinkets with each flip of page the old fashion way as the topography of my hermitage supports but a wee digital signal with ma bell's lines too old to carry more than a dial up. my studio footprint dwindles with each venture south as I downsize my part of the BOX as I dream of finishes for my soon surfaced subfloor (soon in terms of geological movement kind of soon). the sky rumbles and pushes the sun lower still.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


Love says, "I am everything."
Wisdom says, "I am nothing."
Between these two my life flows.
-- Nisagradatta Maharaj

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

bye bye my big beauties

I will miss your brittle leaved and needled canopies

a few of my students human dot comps

from yesterday (these are pics of some quality issues). paper, rock, scissors was most startling and provoking image concept of the day. more images coming.

when the big ones hit the ground, it's a bit unnerving

because of fire hazard, the electric co agreed to come take some of my big ones that have died due to the drought. so today I am listening to some of my 50-60 foot tall trees hit the ground with their deep earth shaking thuds. I'll miss this dozen or so but will sleep a little more soundly when the wind is rustling my trees.

chop chop ouchy.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

starry night

would like to flip out every light, interior and exterior, so that I can see the twinkle from my window more clearly as I fade. but got to leave at least one exterior light on so neighbors know I am at the hermitage of my microforest. I've let them know, but if I don't have any lights on the place literally dissappars. I want them to come a knocking if a blaze should flame up. we're on an official alert due to weather and light trumps beautiful starry night. weird. fires are never something I considered having to really worry about or trees falling on casa and squish squish. don't worry to much though since for most part I have no control or say if it were to happen.

ha. a little teaser for tomorrow's dot comps

thank you Jordan, a whole new meaning to the little black dress.

Friday, September 23, 2011

a drizzle plus one good branch dropping thunderstorm and the frequency of my Bambis visible presence

in my microforest and mini meadow expands temporally. they do tend to ignore me with the exception of the young male snorter. they even lay in, relative to drought crunchies, my lush mini meadow a mere 40 feet from where I perch on the hermitage's porch rail, late afternoon. another load hauled hither from my BOX that brought no rain, but I was hopeful with the Houston low hung sky early morn. mostly books which to my discovery, outside of tools, are my main possession...well and tubes. I never noticed before. I do have slews of pictures but at this point they no longer hold meaning that should continue to be pondered; so those are stored I suppose til I have the gumption to toss twenty five years of history and memories. the hawk glides and watches.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

watch it happen with humans

when the woodpecker arrives clutching and swaying the entire feeder and dangling from the underneath side, all the other species that alight gently, fly off. pecking order? well they are bigger and appear, though balanced, clumsy in their landing, but I witnessed no bullying. bullying seems more indicative of other species and, well of course, humans. bullying or bulldozing seems a function of fear not strength. like the smaller birds, i think there is wisdom in avoiding standing in the path of bulldozing. smart birds return quickly to the feeder and humans to the path. flitting aside is neither weak nor strong, just a cautious weariness (redundant but I like the words together).

and i must not be a woodpecker because as i sit here under the pine trees on their litter, i see for deer gracing and pulling leaves from trees; they've seen but ignore as i am not much of a threat. well except the one male yearling is running back and forth snorting, but i can't tell if he's showing of for the 3 females or actually feels threatened. i think strutting. the cat 15 feet behind me, was surprised to see me and unsure, but then i am not much of a cat person so i don't send out come hither kitty vibes. i like dogs!

and i watched the beaver last night and concluded, i am not a beaver and i certainly hope i never cut my arm off with a miter saw. oh my. but i did cry throughout the movie, hadn't expected a tear-jerker; i even cried with the whale music video that was prelim to the movie...i though for sure it was going to be an add for pharmaceuticals so i was really relieved when it wasn't.

so i am not woodpecker, cat, bulldozer, beaver. i may be a bit whale. for now i am ok with that...

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Monday, September 12, 2011

i think vs i am, are not similar at all.

"i think i should..." do something is significantly different than saying, "i am..." doing something. these are extremely different. night and day. open and closed. when talking with someone, one is a definitive, the other leaves room for the other. so when the other takes legal action the very next day, within 24 hours, the other has clearly given their definitive response to the "thinking"...

sometimes when we are the other, we hear "i am..." because our fear and anger mistranslates "i think..."

Sunday, September 11, 2011

set at least 2 of the 3 or 4 balls down for the weekend

three nights in a row in one bed! amen. haven't done that since thinktank in early June and not for months on end even before that...maybe not since summer 2010 i-park residency. my brain and everything else within me needed to stay in one place badly! NO DRIVING for anything beyond 15 minutes. it's the problem of working in two cities and navigating an additional city weekly to include family, whom I love and need, well plus an artist residency, home renovations and start of new school year. none of these are bad things. except the monthly gas bill. no way to spin that as good. ok well I can try--here goes, I didn't go into debt because of it (that's the only thing good I can say about my gas bill) and my truck still runs beautifully at 186,xxx miles. i actually count myself as fortunate to have each of these many good things sans the gas bill. yet with all the driving, trans- and dis-locating, and juggling my hats, my stress level has been through the roof, all three or four of them. so this weekend I stayed in one spot and only focused on one thing. no home reno and no planning for it, no studio down sizing or thinking about it, no art making, just a bit of school work, walks in my new hood and, OMGosh, I actually cooked (electric wok--stove gaslines not installed yet, and no grilling because of wildfire hazards). and I think three nights seeing the moon and stars from a single gps coordinate is working, a bit of calmness seems to be surfacing which leaves more room to experience the things for which I am grateful--like my hermitage and neighboring hood, my microforest, career(s), friends and my special grand friends, bros, and steadfast parental units. probably more but I am too tired to think that hard. as I walked today, it felt much like it did when I was a little girl--going outdoors in amongst the quiet loudness of the trees (no creeks currently--all dried up) on a slow moving rambling adventure, dragging a stick in the dirt behind me because it's fun and experiencing that same sense of awe at the overwhelming comfort I find at being outdoors under canopies of trees that whisper to me (no not in English--they speak lithely in breezish and rustlings. I have no idea what they speak, I just know it is good and gracious). a bit of road warrioring begins again next week for studio downsizing process.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

strolling my hermitage hood


I learn a lot from others insight!
well and any art review is ego nice.

Douglas Britt (Houston Chronicle blog) September 10, 2011
To provide a platform for more experimental work than usually finds eager buyers at a commercial gallery, Darke Gallery recently invited Houston sculptor and writer Kathryn Kelley for a summer artist residency.

She had about six weeks to make work in the space and another five weeks to exhibit the results.

Kelley makes tough, forbidding-looking assemblages with baling wire and remnants of tire tubes, doorframes, mattresses and other castoffs, but pairs them with poetic titles shot through with pain and vulnerability.

As in the past, Kelley’s process-oriented sculptures are ripe with bodily references. The pieces with doorframes are evocative of camera bellows, television sets and computer monitors — technologies that extend our sensory capacities and furthering both our connectedness to and alienation from the world.

Kathryn Kelley: the edge of my unreadiness continues through Oct. 8 at Darke Gallery.

I found Douglas' idea about "our connectedness to and alienation from" hitting me dead on, profoundly insightful with word images I had not before considered but experience internally. Also his reference to "camera bellows" provokes me for future ways I may play in my work with the ambiguity of the word, bellows. I really like that word.

Saturday, September 03, 2011

one end of my block

I live at the edge of the paved world, if you bump past my drive you will arrive here. the microforest opens up at the end with a field, home to about five young colts freshly hatched late spring along with their parental units. it doesn't get much more beautiful. i think this was a gift; when things are rough even now, even on subfloor and relatively furnitureless, i sit still at the windowed (to hot for outdoors) edge of my hermitage and just soak in the view, smells, sounds, and life

i am looking forward to fully landing here. from HW 45 you have to drive west through about 17-20 miles of national forest to arrive. i love to drive this at night [well during the day to but i like the dream likeness of night] because there are only my headlights bouncing through the dark limbs, stars, road reflectors, the occasional eying by bambi and clan and the quiet for about twenty minutes. then i pop out in to a lightly populated area, turn on my drive and head back into my microforested hermitage.

landing is to do list.
CHECK. exhibition fully installed at Darke Gallery .
NEXT. downsize houston based studio [helpers needed] at BOX.
____. prep subfloor at hermitage.
____. finish bathroom [fatherly supervision required].
____. finish bedroom floor.
____. resolve outdoor art space usage [helpers needed].
____. move houston courtyard based works;
          install in microforest [helpers needed].
____. figure out the rest of which there is a good bit.
____. rain. burn banned lifted. invites extended. grilling resumes.

oh yes and continue making work for upcoming exhibitions (collaborative BOXer exhibition at Texas State next on slate), pushing/developing WASH program, figuring out how professional collaboration really works, facilitating/refining/impassioning young artist/designers in their practice...the fall will be full

Thursday, September 01, 2011

thank you Douglas Britt and the H-Chronicle

Galleries debuting dynamic exhibits
Art-viewing options, always plentiful in Houston, are about to explode. Soon museums and other nonprofits will roll out their fall exhibits, and two art fairs - one in mid-September, the other in late October - will try their luck in Houston for the first time.

Amid such high-profile programming, it would be easy but unfortunate to lose track of developments in the city's lively commercial gallery scene. Use this cheat sheet to catch some of the next couple of weeks' most promising exhibits.

Kathryn Kelley: the edge of my unreadiness features the Houston sculptor's hulking assemblages made from such cast-off materials as tractor inner-tube tires measuring up to 10 feet in diameter. Reception 6-9 tonight (9/2), through Oct. 8 at Darke Gallery, 320 B Detering; 713-542-3802.

last piece
i think i am ready for
the edge of my unreadiness

Opening reception Friday, Sept 2, 6-9 pm, Darke Gallery
320B Detering, Houston 77007 (valet parking available)

(also tonight is last Thursday night as open studio 4-7, meaning it may still be a little messy)

smallest piece ever and last one for show opening on Friday.

there is still wall space, haven't totally overwhelmed space as is my habit, but...

if i had more time, i would.

now it is time to title works. if you know me, then you know it will be a bit cumbersome, but no, it isn't in me to name them untitled #47. though meaning/title of work may not be self evident in work, it is what emerged in my soul during the making. when the title exists first, it is usually a separate entity and at some point the words and making just kind of become one internally.

smallest piece ever [26" tall x 22" wide x 12" deep] which wont pull walls down with its weight, and last one for show opening on Friday. would it be wrong of me if this should have highest price, since even though people want my other works my typical scale is a limiting factor in having?

like with this piece in the show...