ghosts

Here's a little review of the art at the firehouse, on church street. Fun was had by all (NB: coherency is not my strong suit, but rather something I think I'm going to work towards this Autumn, at least in my Art Reviews

They came upon her in the streets - She was watching, with multiple view points, or had she just seen them around town a few times? or was She bigger than the physical body? It would seem to be indicated. The TVs weren't as high-tech as they could have been: meaning not that they should have been, just that they bespoke of other ghosts, materially present TVs clunking around, just as those ghosts were materially present, smoking cigarettes and going to the ATM: no one in the short looped image cycles really paid the ghosts much mind. Even the idea of of ghosts is a bit olde timey to the point of perhaps being needed to be called string theory or something. Perhaps a reason why CHLOE SMOLARSKI had the wire for her projectors (in another part of the room that had been dominated by the ghosts and their sounds) up on the wall. It was in curves and I thought it might light up occasionally or be touch sensitive: How does it mean ghosts that in an art gallery anything is possible: that given all our, the general populace or at least the media reportage on same, derision of the arts, we still walk into a world where the wire might well be possessed of capabilities. And then I finally do trace it to the projector, but current can flow both ways here, or more than both. Art is still relevant in America. Though it's true it may be a ghost, that speaks not to its power (to act, etc.)

Downstairs it was someone else's art, words in different shapes, alot of which would have been called from the street, or graffiti a while ago, but are probably a bit too much fitting snuggly into the lingo of graphic design. The words were kind of interesting though, though in retrospect they might require you be a little interested in the irony of DEEP being there in a gallery and was it really, though, again, as Andy would say, is there like any real need to get down on what was fun eye candy at the time, in another room this same woman, NANCY DWYER, had not standard sculptures and paintings but more of the TVs (this time the flat screeners) and junk formed into stuff mode that is also, like the upstairs thing, known as installation art. The words were always there with Nancy Dwyer, and with me too. Didn't see them till I took off my glasses. Rachel could see them by squinting, but me . . . it said "entitled to what" and then was made out of what we are entitled to here in the US, on a solid base of plastic plates were novels naked dolls, things indicating our co-opted rebel status (our being our artists), things still of our all to recently past childhood. It was about 1000 or more plates, each with something on it, stuck to the wall, with the blank parts of the wall forming the aforementioned words. I'll just say this by way of criticism, the graphic design words, in Dwyer's first room, those painted with, you know, paint, and sculpted out of clay and wood (ie classic art stuffs) were mostly like looking at a sketch of what was possible in the full-blown other room. That there critique though already mostly seems like a ghost ready to haunt me.

August

you know it's august when in a few blinks of an eye a few weeks are gone* - In my family two birthdays occurred, we ate our first watermelons and a little melon known as sweetie number six, I think it was in this period our members got their first potatoes, the fall variety quick on its heels.

The vermont season seems to really run, I think all the seeding we've done in the past two or three weeks is going to continue ye olde fall bounty. Lots of asian greens, back to the lettuce (which the intense heat made us take a break on), turnips, radishes, even an another attempt at spinach, I mean does anyone remember our first attempt which got the flood.

We just made it thru Shelburne day: it actually wasn't too hard on us, except all the vendors started trading and giving away foods in a fit of fete, so many ice creams brownies and fried foods eaten, no funnel cake.

Rachel and I are actually off to a Intervale disaster relief benefit, more to be social than to shore up the disaster fund. Gotta party for your right to fight!






*see last picture section, even the gone graffitti is gone, o poetic irony

Uh, full circle

Atop might be an older market picture, then a very recent winter squash blossom, very good composition, by rachel. Our winter squash has been part of the flooded cucurbits (drama). The "gone" tag, as I think it's still called, I liked cause it managed to get the devil, angel and king symbols in there. Also like the idea of it being like, "that cat is so gone" - though now after having just seen scoop, the new woody allen pic (one thumbs up pne down) - I also like it for a word for dead with all those symbols. And then well talk about gone, this last pic is one of the Abare house, what had been a part of the historical Intervale, more recently refuge to the less homed, now pile of weeds, certainly home to snakes and other diversities (the more so as it re-turns into forest.