A world of one color

Most of us, have a smell, a taste, a sight that instantly makes us smile. For me, it is the snow. Perhaps because of childhood memories from Romania, perhaps because it embodies a quiet, serene atmosphere I love. Or maybe it is because of the way it covers all visual noise, turning every plain grass and tree branch into a  beautiful sculpture.  

I have been to Yosemite three times now, and while this park is beautiful in every season, there is nothing like greeting the New Year in a forest covered in snow. Happy 2017!!!

Yosemite, Dec 31, 2016

A world of one color, the sounds of wind

End of November

I'm in Frankfurt, Germany now for almost 3 weeks. My mother in law, a beautiful human being, who you may know from my ongoing series "A portrait of shadows and light" fell and broke her leg. At the age of 94, this may be a minor surgery, but it is a major trauma. For the first time in my life I am aware to how fragile life is. Like the few leaves that hold on to the bare tree branches. 

It is here, when I sit next to her that I realize how the will to live is what fills the frail body. When she is depressed, the light goes away from her eyes. When I say something that makes her laugh - her face seems to fill up, her eyes glow.

When I am not in the hospital, I spend most of the time in her small apartment. Photographing, writing, drawing. Capturing her presence around me even when she is not here. 

She is better now. Just moved from the hospital to a "Parents home". Surrounded by family pictures, weekly news magazine and her favorite crossword book, she seems to be slowly getting back to herself.

Outside, there are fewer and fewer leaves on the trees. End of November.

End of November

The key to your very own Modigliani!

"Good artists copy, great artists steal". The first time I read this quote in Will Gompertz book "What are you looking at?" I was stunned. Really? Steal?? After reading a bit more, a light bulb went off. "Stealing" as a first step towards making something your own, is very different from copying someone else's work. Learned something new.

Fast forward almost a year. My better half and I visit the LACMA museum in LA, one of our favorites. One of our personal jokes when visiting museums is deciding which piece of art we would like to take home. Hubby can't decide between two: a Picasso's blue period painting and "Young woman of the people" by Modigliani. As lately I've been playing with collage, without thinking much, I blurted "I will make you a Modigliani" and snapped a picture of the painting. 

Well, here it is. "The key to your very own Modigliani". Perhaps this does not make me a great artist, but I am definitely evolving as a wife :)

"The key to your very own Modigliani", the full collage.

Her head is full of butterflies

Years ago, when my father was still alive, whenever I said something that seemed funny to him, he would say "your head is full of butterflies". Both of us would  smile, and continue talking, sometimes agreeing to disagree. I wish he could see me now, see the butterflies starting to emerge from their cocoon and spread their wings. I hope a few of them will reach him, wherever he is and give him my everlasting love.

This is a collage I have just finished. Its title: "Her head is full of butterflies". To my dad with love.

Detail from "Her head is full of butterflies". Collage: Paper, old books, nylon, napkins, acrylic color.

Remembered light

Sally Mann has always been my inspiration. When I found out that her exhibit at the Gagosian gallery in NY coincides with my travel for the "Trees" exhibit opening - I could not be happier.

I arrived to NY at 8:30 in the morning, a bit crumpled after after the red-eye flight from LA. As the room at my hotel was not available yet, I left everything but my camera and wallet at the hotel storage and went out exploring. More accurately, I headed to the Gagosian Gallery (via Central Park..).

Sometimes, when expectations are very high, we set ourselves for disappointment. This was definitely NOT the case here. I headed into a spacious gallery, divided into three spaces. Black shiny marble floors, off-white walls, and the images....how can one describe the feeling of being surrounded by light? The photographs are not Sally Mann's typical Wet Plate Collodion images. Silver gelatin and a few Platinum prints. But the light, is the same light. Transcending place and time, a portrait of two artists, Cy Twombly, whose studio appears in the images and Sally Mann who created the images. Neither are with me in the room, yet somehow, both are present. I forgot about the sleepless night, the plane, the hotel. I just basked in the light. 

Remembered light, Sally Mann at the Gagosian Gallery

Another beauty from the exhibit

The name of the exhibit was inspired by Mark Strand's poem

Left behind

...and this time, I am the one who's left behind. A year ago this month I left him to live his life across the ocean and moved to the US. In the months before the move, the images seemed to pour out of me in a burst of activity. Tears transformed into images. A way of holding on even when I knew I won't. I thought I understood the meaning of leaving behind.

Now, after having him with me for four weeks, he's gone back. Starting a new chapter in his life, becoming a student. I'm left in an apartment that has more space and less joy. No more suitcases filling the bedroom, no more morning kiss from my big baby son. I am left with a Polaroid photo of him and the thank you card that brought me to tears when I read it. This time, I am the one who's left behind.  

Gathering dust

The power of simplicity (and amazing craftmanship ...). This is my favorite image from David A. Leffel's exhibit I saw last Saturday. This was the text displayed with this image:

"Gathering Dust, 1975. During the 1970's, Leffel still lifes became simpler and more minimal. Gathering Dust is an intimate painting with a mood of calm tranquility. The artist said: I tried to pait as quiet a painting as possible. It has almost no color, no movement. Just this little sprig of silver dollars seems alive. Everything else is drained. "

As I found out while reworking my artist statements for the xxx time (!), conveying something in a short, simple way is way more difficult that piling words on paper or color on canvass.