Divination Pockets.

a poem

2011-07-12T18:55:00.002-04:00

with our fingers
we've turned outwards this thing
to shape it upwards.
a peak manifested through heat.
we slowly hoisted each other up it,
only to mount its disobedient spike.
and come tumbling back.

2011-06-07T02:16:00.001-04:00

NEW WEBSITE!

2011-05-05T19:38:00.000-04:00

KRISTINEROAN.COM

2011-04-20T14:49:00.004-04:00

pumped up on her motions
because i believe
that i can now find their source.

small peaks only tongues know.
these places exist, where i can be
buried and grounded under
your clean salts. a burden of this pale weightlessness.
and posture saves you from sight.

if not here, where else should
i find the bright space
between dark (exterior) and dark (interior).

"Words have edges, and so do you"-A. Carson (an essay I wrote last year about an author whom I adore)

2011-04-13T22:04:00.002-04:00

"Words have edges, and so do you"-A. Carson
Kristine Williams

Somewhere below the surface of our minds, resides the power that literacy initially had on our consciousness. In Anne Carson’s book, Eros the Bittersweet, the author argues that it is through language that we were first awakened to imaginative possibility, desire, ourselves, and the edges between. In illuminating the work of Classical writers, poets, and philosophers, Carson investigates the paradoxical space between text and reality, pleasure and pain during the rise of literacy. To her, it all resides within the idea surrounding eros, the Greek god of passionate love.

"It was Sappho who first called eros "bittersweet. No one who has been in love disputes her." Carson opens up with this line, having translated Greek lyric poet, Sappho’s use of “sweetbitter” to “bittersweet”. She is referring to one of Sappho’s fragmented poems;

Eros once again limb-loosener whirls me sweetbitter, impossible to fight off, creature stealing up.

Here Eros is seen as something uncontrollable and outside of the lover’s being . The creature loosens limbs-pervading not only the mind, but also the physicality of the victim. Her body turns to jello at the thought of the experience. Notice, it is not the desired that steals the lover’s heart, but the idea of love. Eros presents itself as a triangulating space between the lover and beloved. The poet acknowledges it as theft, knowing that the spark of this moment is ephemeral. Sappho’s use of “once again” could mean not only that she has experienced this feeling before, but that this new experience brings her nostalgically to her original self, or as she believes she is meant to be.

Queen Victoria wrote after the death of her Prince Albert; “No one contradicts me now and the salt has gone out of my life.”

Many Greek poets refer to eros as lack. It’s been called an attack, a splitting of the soul. It is in this moment that the individual is forced to hold two contradictory thoughts-one of the self as whole and one of the self as complete only with another person. Edges dissolve between the lover and beloved at points and then present themselves again as a reminder of objectivity.

There is a parallel between the desire for knowledge (logos) and that for the beloved. The archetypical lover’s want is to stop time and cement the “now” of Eros’ invasion. This is much like the way a reader likes to wish formulaic texts to be knowledge fixed upon page. It is the aim of the writer to nurture this belief and take the reader into a paradoxical state much like being in love. By creating triangulations through physical distance, more reasonable suitors, poor timing, the author leads us into the mind of the lover confronted by such obstacles. It is practicality up against the character’s desires. As readers, this division is what we are so drawn to. The story sustains our attention only when there is a dissonance, which we hope to find harmonious in the end.

An excerpt from Sophokles’ play, “The Lovers of Achilles” tells of the pleasure children find in holding ice. It is too cold to keep in the palms and will quickly melt if they continue to do so… yet, the experience is enjoyable. Sophokles uses this as an analogy of the lover swept away by eros. But only in writing, which we can continually return to, can a piece of ice melt forever.

To read something does not necessarily mean to “know” it. Our desire in reading though, is to reach beyond ourselves to something unknown, or maybe even unknowable. There is an edge between written text and the world around us, much like the edge between our idealization of our beloved and she in actuality. Plato says that the reach for knowledge is a process which is necessarily lived out in space and time. It is not to be found exclusively in books.

In Plato’s dialogue, the “Phaedrus”, a discussion takes place between Phaedrus and a characterized version of Sokrates. Phaedrus has just attended a recitation of a speech by Greek orator, Lysias on the matter of love. He runs into Sokrates who begs Phaedrus to share it with him. Throughout the speech, Lysias encourages taking up the same vantage point as a writer-removing oneself from the idea of eros. He promotes his listeners to choose a non-lover, that being someone who is guided on purely rational grounds. This serves to create an objective relationship that is constant and predictable. The tone of this speech takes on a more accepted Greek sentiment of stoic self-control. Lysias simply edits out the “now” of desire, dismissing it as mania.

At the end of Phaedrus’ re-reading of the speech, Sokrates pointedly exclaims that he is in taken over in ecstasy by the way in which Phaedrus recited the oration. Here I think Sokrates displays his disapproval for Lysias’ ideas towards love. Because Sokrates is so moved by the speech, he becomes the lover that the recitation warns against.

Eros marks the transmutation of the individual when faced with their possibilities. This is probably a change that Lysias refutes. He sees it as an end to oneself, while Sokrates identifies it as just the beginning. It is with good reason that one would adopt the inner austerity of Lysias in one in place of the pathos, or the high emotion that results from eros. Sokrates later attempts this attitude by questioning what the lover wants from time. Do they hope to stop time and forever possess a single moment of desire? He recognizes that this pursuit can only stunt the growth of the beloved. Through jealousy, the lover is coerced to prevent any intellectual development on behalf of the beloved in fear that it could grant them independence.

When reading, focus shifts from the external world to the internal atmosphere of the mind in thought. To comprehend written word, the senses must be cut-off to an extent. Time becomes relevant only to the text, because the writer synthesizes their ideas from various moments and edits the story into an exercise in language, in and of itself. So long as our eyes are on the page, we are taken out of time. The lover hopes to remain in this state as well.

What does the one who has been struck by eros truly want? In proximity to the beloved, the lover becomes completely vulnerable and anxiety-ridden. Sappho’s fragment 31 reads;

“That man seems to me peer of gods,
who sits in thy presence,
and hears close to him
thy sweet speech
and lovely laughter; that indeed
makes my heart flutter in my bosom.
For when I see thee but a little,
I have no utterance left,
my tongue is broken down,
and straightway a subtle fire has run under my skin,
with my eyes I have no sight,
my ears ring,
sweat pours down, and a trembling
seizes all my body; I am paler than grass,
and seem in my madness little better
than one dead.”
But I must dare all, since one so poor.”

In the calm composure of the beloved man, does Sappho see her own potential to control her desires? He is content with himself and listens to her quietly and from a distance. However, even her longing to take on his attitude is a desire to mesh with him. The revelation of her potential is seen through the filter of what she sees in him.

Pre-linguistic consciousness didn’t allow for the defining of thoughts and feelings in the way that we are now accustomed to. We didn’t think in words. With as much gained by the Greeks in becoming equipped with language, the device for identifying still inspired magical thinking. Much of our experience is ineffable, so with often-great command of language, authors try to harness desire through metaphor and symbolism. This of course leads to multiple meanings built upon each other, paradoxes we have to contemplate. But our imagination is far inferior to the imagination that can be found in nature, outside of us.

I have to admit though; I fell hopelessly for this book.

I wasn't able to add the footnotes from Word. Will work on fixing that.

.

2011-04-03T20:58:00.002-04:00

A Room of One's Own

2011-03-18T21:12:00.000-04:00

2011-03-16T12:22:00.014-04:00

2011-03-16T12:15:00.002-04:00

Bed Breath

2011-03-16T12:14:00.000-04:00

2011-03-11T16:10:00.005-05:00

I can't remember the landscape of her face

Whenever I've moved over it,

I met those pooling eyes that burn the image out of my mind

To replace it with fire.

2011-03-05T22:48:00.000-05:00

2011-02-21T16:31:00.001-05:00

"Transcend Dental" and "Seacup"

2011-01-28T20:08:00.007-05:00

2010-11-14T21:30:00.006-05:00

incubators

2010-11-14T01:47:00.003-05:00

interior decorating

2010-11-14T01:41:00.004-05:00

2010-10-12T14:45:00.003-04:00

2010-10-12T14:43:00.002-04:00

zen organizing

2010-09-14T23:02:00.011-04:00

2010-09-14T22:57:00.000-04:00

Series based on Dario Argento's film, Suspiria (in progress)

2010-09-13T20:52:00.005-04:00

2010-08-09T15:51:00.003-04:00

"Art in the Church"

2010-08-09T15:18:00.006-04:00

2010-07-20T23:01:00.001-04:00

2010-07-20T22:57:00.002-04:00

summer series- assemblages

2010-07-20T22:49:00.003-04:00

installation of bone piece/ archeological dig site

2010-06-16T18:36:00.012-04:00

I'm really digging this excavation photo. It may be embarrassingly obvious that I'm drawn to it for the pinks and oranges of the equipment. The *strata* is something I'd like to replicate.


Strata:: many layers of earth or levels in an archaeological site (singular stratum).

Something between the wall & floor (on canvas)...

2010-04-29T20:56:00.003-04:00

some sort of a beginning...

Resurrection Theme

2010-04-29T20:47:00.003-04:00

Mural completed on the wall of the lower narthex of First Baptist Church in Beverly, MA.

6'x8'

I wanted to be an archeologist. One who would find marvelously mysterious things.

2010-04-18T22:12:00.026-04:00

Carved styrofoam covered in plaster gauze and connected with wire.

*The photographed site is not ideal for the installation. It will soon be buried beneath soil.

Fleshy Hymnal

2010-03-10T23:53:00.001-05:00

News.

2010-03-10T23:47:00.009-05:00

All but the two dark drawings are responses to Carl Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc"

"The Man on the Train Named Me Squirrel Girl"

2010-03-09T15:04:00.003-05:00

The Totem piece found it's intended
installation in the "Sculpture Across the Currents" show!

Reverse Scroll

2010-03-09T14:51:00.002-05:00

I believe I took on a painterly approach in my relationship with these materials. The negative space stands as a vital framing device for the physical mass of the piece.

The leather gloves I used were my grandmother's. After her passing, my mother put them in the washing machine--resulting in their mangled appearance. She also lived on a farm, hence the fences & the toile fabric.

accompanying video for totem pole.

2010-02-20T20:03:00.005-05:00

This is the video to be projected beside the totem pole. On this autumn eve, I was gathering acorns... which found their home in the acorn depository/ "belly" of the totem.

Most of the materials which went into the structure of the totem pole were found on the sidewalk or in the trashy park near my apartment. The video shows me in my continual efforts to find inspiration through alternative, found materials which may "feed" my work.

pocket, containing wall.

2010-02-12T01:43:00.001-05:00

I've found something I can't reach.

2010-02-12T01:33:00.008-05:00

The belly of the Totem: acorn depository.

2009-12-24T14:08:00.002-05:00

teensy weensy book.

2009-10-20T20:02:00.008-04:00

this is a book project i'm working on (these are not in order). almost every piece has a cutout, or what I'm calling cliffhangers in this series.

4.25"x4.25"

Autumnal Equinox is today! And, this is the recent progress of my totemy project.

2009-09-22T09:57:00.017-04:00

This project has really carried me into new territory. I began "feeding" it acorns and it was suggested that I'd have to "ward off the squirrels". So I did. Dressed as a squirrel. In Boston Commons. I'm still working on the video...It may be projected onto the acorn-adorned floor next to the piece.

growing up and out.

2009-08-16T19:10:00.008-04:00

These are a new group of paintings on 30"x48" canvases. The second painting is the same as the first, but upside down and earlier on. So, it doesn't exist.

Painting With Shadows-in Process

2009-08-11T15:44:00.010-04:00

(Update: and so it grows...)

I'm going to continue attaching fabric between the branches that create "v's" (do all of them do that?). Eventually I'll find a more controllable light source to play around with for the shadows. Right now I am using one that gets too hot (I wanted to try draping fabric over the light).

Some Summer.

2009-08-11T15:41:00.003-04:00

Two From "Step Back From Your Eyes" Series...(in process)

2009-06-21T13:16:00.008-04:00

The last one is ready for A LOT more work-not that I'm apologizing.

"I tried to tell myself it's only music"

2009-06-13T20:33:00.004-04:00

So I was sitting with a friend, listening to one of my favorite bands (Mum). I remembered commenting on a fellow student's artwork-it looked like music of the band CocoRosie...later coming to find they are one of her favorite bands. I'd like to make art that affects in a similar way to music. When I listen to certain bands, I feel like I'm traveling to an ethereal landscape. I started asking my friend about her favorite bands and if it shows up in her work. I noticed how a few of our noted favorites were quite different. What does this mean in terms of artwork?

If I say that I'd like to make art that affects in a similar way to Mum...is that pretentious? Or should a certain amount of choices in ones work come from their own personal tastes? If not, is it better to connect/learn about others by citing references to preferences (whether it be to colors, music, films) that you are not a fan of? I guess, as in everything there should be balance. I'm just trying to figure it out. AKA-I'm procrastinating.

Approaching the Abyss?

2009-06-10T13:24:00.004-04:00

What does it mean when you temporarily clear your mind of such things as time, days of the week, dogma and language. As described in Murakami's "Kafka on the Shore", there is a place which you can allow the mind to hover over, that consists of everything yet holds no "parts". Everything is there but it is completely empty. This sounds like the abyss. You know, that scary way of disconnecting from the literal level. Or, maybe it's a state of mind that makes one believe that our consciousnesses are far more complex than we could ever comprehend.

This feeling may be too subjective to attempt describing with words. But really, wouldn't that be awful if we could explain our most intrinsic beliefs? I mean...if we could be completely understood, then what else would we have to strive for? We have to use words!

Hmmm. Perhaps this all just emerged from missing sleep. Who knows, right?

The Physicality of Writing.

2009-05-30T22:44:00.000-04:00

"But what about stories?" she made herself wonder, losing her place on the page.

It doesn't matter where she was, because she wasn't really there.

"Am I consuming these books too fast, this feels gluttonous. Will I remember what I've learned? How could I? It's already been digested. Will I remember the feeling of being inside of this character? No-the character won't be the same next time I read this, because I won't be the same"

She had once measured her time in pages. Leafing through the heft of a well-loved book, she could calculate how many cigarettes she'd smoked per hour...the ash finding its grave between every few pages.

Maybe this time she wrote when she should have let herself read. Today she is tidy and she looks to have forgotten how.

(This may be elaborated upon, depending on if I choose to read or write)

This is Routine.

2009-05-11T18:46:00.002-04:00

Today:

So I'm sitting at my kitchen table, writing a paper and eating a really hot, splenda-sticky sweet potato. I pick up something under the table, my head hitting my notebook with my po-tot on top. The potato falls in my hair. Pause. Notebook falls and my hair gets tangled in the spirals. I was on the phone with Amanda at the time...and she told me that sounded like a routine event for me.

Later...I'm crossing the street towards school. A car is speeding towards me as I'm on the crosswalk. I jump off my bike, my hanging suspenders get stuck under the seat and I drop my bike in front of the car. A girl walking behind me trips over my bike and gets her shoe lace stuck in the spokes.

Afternoon...Once again wandering, I see a shiztu walking all by himself down the sidewalk. I start calling towards him. A guy across the street looks at me, and precedes to chase the dog, thinking it belongs to me. So I run away. I don't know why.

"a map is more unreal, than where you've been or how you feel"

2009-05-10T22:41:00.004-04:00

After a very ungrounded weekend I'm finally jumping down from the swing set. I'm really trying to find more balance in myself. I've felt particularly scatter-brained but summer adventuring plans are already in the mix! I'm already playing my Summer playlist...

Quixotic?

2009-05-02T16:38:00.004-04:00

Let's take a look at this. Quixotic: 1: foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of ideals ; especially : marked by rash lofty romantic ideas or extravagantly chivalrous action.

This comment came up a few days ago, although it had been floating around in my mind for a while beforehand. I guess in terms of my art, I hope to effect people. That is not to say that I assume that I will be able to. I just don't feel like it's worth making art unless you strive for this. I know I've certainly felt changed from others' art.

When I think of other issues such as overpopulation & our growing consumerism, I can still fall into the category of being 'naively' optimistic. Because there are things that are beyond our ability to anticipate, I don't see why the rational choice is often to accept and (sometimes) give up on working towards a change in our current situation.

All this said, this state of optimism works for me. I'm just recently discovering this after a year of intense analytic endeavors into myself. By remaining naive in some ways, I can constantly take in new information. Any pessimism can just be acknowledged and filtered out so that I can pursue the path to fixing what I can on my minuscule level.

Almost There.

2009-05-01T22:21:00.005-04:00

I feel like it's summer already. Unfortunately all that means is I have a desire to do nothing but roam around Beverly with slow summer music in my mind. I'm pretty restless but hope to push myself back into a place where I can get some things accomplished. Once I can get out of my head and come back down to earth that is. I don't know why I keep isolating myself in my thoughts, but maybe it's necessary for me right now while I revise my artist statement. I obviously am the only one who can fully understand what it is that I believe in...these are the type of existential thoughts that I fearfully make myself accept daily. However, I still want to begin communicating my ideas as I once did in my notebook (hence the blog).

After schools out, I want to pursue intense adventurism! I'm talking about 20 mile walks again, concerts that bring me to another place, traveling to see friends, surfing, and lots of documentation.

I should probably go hang out with my neglected kitteh.

here i am.

2009-04-25T14:51:00.003-04:00

Tonight, tonight.

2009-04-24T23:49:00.006-04:00

Sense of possibility is heightening. It's getting warmer and brighter out everyday. I walked 6 miles today. I'm almost completely moved into my new apartment. Isadora (my cat) is no longer having panic attacks over (or shall I say under) the noisy new neighbors. I'm finding things I've lost. This place is incredible. I have such a huge, sunlit studio. Right now the floors are covered in plastic cowboys & indians, paints, brushes, fabric and beads. Yes, I'm starting some new projects...which I'll be able to pursue with more energy and freedom once I feel completely settled. As for now, I'm going to try to calm down and relax as most of my course work is finished for the semester. For real. I'm going to attempt to not feel guilty for a short lack of productivity.

Oh, and today I found an article on a new film with Adam Goldberg,"Untitled"...It's a satire on the contemporary art world.

-From IMDb-Adam Goldberg plays the serious composer, whose work calls for paper crumpling, glass breaking and bucket kicking. Marley Shelton plays the gorgeous Chelsea gallerist, whose latest show features an artist who employs taxidermy and household objects. Further complicating the affair is the composers brother, whose highly commercial art work is the financial backbone of the gallery - is sold to corporate clients discreetly out of the gallery's back room.
So yeah, I can't wait to see this.