Ms Uncertainty Principles: Art

Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts

Saturday, October 19, 2019

CHELSEA

10.19.2019

SATURDAY

Meet-up with Bonnie Rae Stern Crago in from California (used to be neighbors here in the Seventies) at "Don Giovanni" to share three great Pizzas with 8 others, including Mellissa Sherbet Torres (who also used to be a neighbor) and Judy Schiller from School of Visual Arts. Some of us went to the High Line after. However I hardly took any photos of us. Too busy eating and shmoozing.

Others took lots and will send

MURAL

Tenth Avenue at West 22nd Street

Art Gallery Kite
Corner of Tenth Avenue and 23rd Street

THE HIGH LINE

Union Clock
"Workers of the World"
"Time to Organize"

Bonnies friend painting with Kids

Visble from the High Line
An apartment tenant states his Views

Black Eyed Susan

Native Grasses

Earlier, I caught these photos of a window on my block as I left the Apartment and on the crosstown bus, a totally un-self conscious (pink Hair) young woman who kept up a running conversation on her cell phone about job prospects and needing to have a new hairdo for the job search.

(I was entertained)

~*~

BEAUTIFUL WEATHER

All Day

Halloween Poster
While waiting for the bus back East to Home

~*~

LINK
Fascinating History
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chelsea,_Manhattan

Monday, July 23, 2018

WEEKEND JOURNEY

Before the Storm Breaks

Walking in my Neighborhood Saturday

Epiphany Church Garden

Stone Saints Maintain Holy Silence

Trembling Trees

Blooms Below Ground

Opportunist

~*~

I wrote to a friend about the Gallery opening and reading Friday:

"I was in a strange place last night-both foggy and focused throughout the event-I read well and the work drew special attention after from friends and strangers who praised it. The fogginess hadn't cleared as I wandered home with friend Wendy who decided to accompany me. I was removed the whole time and when I arrived at 21st Street, lay down immediately fully dressed and fell into deep sleep. When I woke a few hours later, I realized that the drawing and the writing had been my main occupation for many weeks and that I was in mourning. Mourning for the family that is no more, the drawing that needs nothing more, and the writing that is done and also gone."
My Art and Text
http://mscomfortzone.blogspot.com/2018/07/why-make-art.html

We are strange creatures,
we who share our lives and feelings out loud.
~*~

Midnight Storm

SUNDAY FACE BOOK FAST BEGINS.

~*~

Look over yonder, Apollo at a distance
You can hear his music if you listen to the wind (blow)
I want to be there, I want to be right there

Bear witness, I'm wailing like the wind
Come bear witness, the half-breed rides again
In these hands, I've held the broken dream
In my soul, I'm howling at the moon

Testimony, testimony
Declare yourself, I will testify
Testimony, testimony
Speak the truth, I will testify

I had a revelation like runaway horses
Took to the road with a carnival show (roll on)
Those golden days on Smokey Mountain
Playing guitar in a one man band

Bear witness, I'm howling at the moon
Come bear witness, I've danced among the ruins
In these shoes, I've walked a crooked mile
All my life I been searching for the nightbird

Testimony, testimony…

Are you ready to take the heat
Are you ready to blow the steam
Are you ready to bag the street
You got nothing to lose, but your chains

For forty days and forty nights
I come across the desert
Apollo right by my side (rave on)

Bear witness, I'm wailing like the wind
Come bear witness, the half-breed rides again
In these hands, I've held the broken dream
In my soul, I'm howling at the moon

Testimony, testimony
Declare yourself, I will testify
Testimony, testimony
Speak the truth, I will testify

"In his big and buoyant new memoir, "Testimony," Robertson, who is seventy-three, doesn't necessarily dispel the various myths, legends, and criticisms that have attached themselves to him. Instead, he tries to reframe the conclusions that fans might take from them. For the most part, he downplays his own musical accomplishments—he seems O.K. not being called a genius—and portrays his life as one of a man who was in the right places at the right times."
-Read the whole New Yorker review in Links-

https://youtu.be/U3awYDKUuwI

Morning

Afternoon

Whether drifting through life on a boat or

climbing toward old age leading a horse,

each day is a journey and the journey itself is home.

-Basho-

~*~

LINKS
New Yorker Book Review
https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/robbie-robertson-offers-his-story-of-the-band

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

AIDS MEMORIAL

ST. JOHN the DIVINE

Amsterdam Avenue at 109th Street
NYC

May 13th 2018
12:30-2PM

Dedication
AIDS MEMORIAL QUILT

My friend, Michael

A most moving presentation

Got home at 6PM because we ate of the generous foods, drank a toast, talked with others who lost friends and loved ones to aids, saw the quilts but no good photographs sorry to say.
We also visited the chapels that encircle the main altar.
~*~

Keith Haring Chapel

.
My flash didn't catch the true colors,
Better photo Here:
http://art-nerd.com/newyork/harings-altar-piece/
~*~

From here on, I have no notes. I simply shot a few views that interested me. There is so much beauty, so many art works and architectural detail you could be there for days and not be able to absorb all of it.

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~*~

We walked in the Gardens
fresh from rain

The residents Garden

Only one peacock on view, soaked because he chose to stay out.
There are two, the second one is white.

Last shot.

Links
Historical Overview
pre-1980 through 2017
https://www.avert.org/professionals/history-hiv-aids/overview
~*~
Personal Note
I was in Fire Island in the seventies before the epidemic was fully understood. I lost many friends from the dance community over the ensuing years and I was a volunteer at the gorgeous garden on top of Gay Mens Health old building where too many memorials overwhelmed everyone.