Where I Stand - Year Two | Fibra Artysta

18 October 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:24:23 -0500

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dank

chaos

sleepy

vibrant

powerful

beautiful

ending

rich

art

11 October 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:24:18 -0500

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The violent stutter of color is like a drug, pulling my attention to places I would not otherwise look. I stand in the cold rain and smell the decomposing leaves around me and try to memorize this moment, this second where the world seems the most alive as it shudders under the weight of heavy grey storm clouds.

04 October 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:24:14 -0500

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The crispness of the air snaps against my face, brisk and insistent in its demands for attention. A sigh that has been building inside me all year is about to find release as the year approaches the resting season. My mind grows sluggish, thick with shadows and afterthought. It is a quiet transition that demands a subtle respect, a motion lurking in the background that creeps slowly along the edges of every minute.

27 September 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:24:11 -0500

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Signs of the season have sprung up, almost suddenly. Time slips off the calendar like a best friend trying to hide a secret, quiet and full of haste. Here I stand at the yawning late half of the year when everything must rest in order to start again and for the first time in a long time, I am in step with it. I’ve regained the rhythm that has been so foreign, I can look at the calendar and see the future with soft eyes.

20 September 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:24:07 -0500

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As we move through life we paint different shades of ourselves, subjecting our minds and bodies to a constant state of reinvention. We would be poorer without it, stagnant. The colors and hues burn bright against the backdrop of possibilities, the choice resting quietly at the end of an outstretched hand.

13 September 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:56 -0500

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Each year September waits patiently through the months preceding it, building strength, gaining momentum, plotting its next move. I've no choice but to go along for the ride, using the few remaining months of the year to adjust to its bold moves. Two thousand and nine is no different. I am walking into a new kind of freedom, a life I would have never imagined, a reinvention that is beginning to move out from beneath the shadows.

06 September 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:51 -0500

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The thickened dye slides around the edges of my fingers, pooling and stretching its mild acid scent into the fabric. The white surface is blotted out, replaced by a new face, a new purpose. My mind lingers on the feel of the screen in my left hand and the twist of my right hand as I pull the dye along the mesh. It is a meditation I crave, that I long to hold onto.

30 August 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:47 -0500

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It’s a slow steady pull, the warm scrape of the needles as they pass over one another in their work. The room is dim, quiet and secluded, far from everything that has dominated all my thoughts for the past few months. My mind reaches out greedily for the peace it offers, working to fill in the open spaces that are aching with worry and fatigue.

23 August 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:43 -0500

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Perspective skews even the most common things. Stand a little taller, straighten your back to its limit, lean far enough forward to look over the edge and you’ll begin to see things in a different light. My mind steps lightly around the edges of what it would be like to be smaller, to see things from a different level. If I move too quickly, I may disturb it, may shake loose its magic.

16 August 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:39 -0500

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It is a side of me that has been placed in reservation for the moment. No time, no energy, no pull can drag me from the restraints of my current life back into the shelter of this place. My Muse stirs inside me, angry and sullen, pushing hard against me, asking me for things that I cannot give. A countdown has begun to the time when everything will shift hard, a time when I will seek solace from Her.

09 August 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:36 -0500

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Choosing a new life is not so much about making plans but more about taking a step off the ledge without hesitation. My future stretches out in long wobbly lines ahead of me, unclear, bursting with options. The ends of my nerves are raw and exposed, worn through with the upheaval of it all. All that remains now is finding the strength to move forward, to step onto the tracks and let fate pull me to where I need to be.

02 August 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:29 -0500

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The skew of the first three steps reflects the constant struggle, narrow on one end and opening into a large sigh on the opposite side. Its how most new endeavors begin, full of tension and uncertainty before exploding into its full potential. The even rhythm below hammers out the execution and sees it through to the end.

26 July 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:25 -0500

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The signs and fliers create a subliminal backdrop as I walk past storefronts, reminding me of the years I moved amongst their ranks. Part of me still lies there, in that space where so many people moved past me, where so many relationships found their start in a common purpose. I suspect each store absorbed in the 3/50 project has a similar tale woven into their foundations, a beginning that seeks to swell with the hope only the future can offer.

19 July 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:21 -0500

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The one hundred and one year old brick pushes back against the soles of my feet, full of memory. They form a discrete monument, encased in concrete meant to preserve and protect. The history of the city moves around me, swollen with whisper and promise.

12 July 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:16 -0500

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A small bend, a detour away from the long line of duty and routine creates an abrupt introduction. The sudden break makes me pause, causes me to search my mind for a similar distraction. Could transition from one to another be so simple? Is it possible to break through to a new world so easily?

05 July 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:13 -0500

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The heavy wooden doors anchor every entrance of the historic building, acting as sentries that both greet and defend. I press my hand against the wood, trying to reinvent the minutes and hours and years that came before me. My mind swells at everything it has seen, an envy burns deep inside to know all that it knows. Its memory hangs in the air around it, its presence etched into the earth it stands on.

28 June 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:09 -0500

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It is impossible to say how many have stood here before me. The house sighs with age, content and full. Many moons have hung above it, many decades have passed across this very porch. Cross its threshold and its new purpose housing artwork washes across your face like breath. It welcomes you, draws you in, beckons you to come and sit for a spell.

20 June 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:23:02 -0500

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The color burns bright and furious, complimented by the heat pooling off the blacktop behind me. Amid the explosion of green leaves, it is a contradiction that burns bright. It reaches out to me every time I pass it, groping for a connection, seeking a way to be remembered. I run my hand across its whisper leaves, relishing its peace, its strength.

14 June 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:58 -0500

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The beginnings are basic. Often overlooked. To say the possibilities are endless is trite, an underwhelming statement. It doesn’t know what it will become any more then we do. It moves and pulls according to the same whims, weighted by identical unknowns. The mystery is satisfying, consuming, balanced.

07 June 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:54 -0500

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They are like a brief pause, a slight glance over your shoulder at something you were never really sure was there in the first place. They are tread upon with complete thoughtlessness where only one day earlier they were framed against the sky on the highest branches of the tree. Their temporary flash leaves an imprint in my mind, an idea that perhaps a few dramatic moments will linger longest out of a lifetime of steadiness.

31 May 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:48 -0500

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I hold in my mind enough words to fill almost five hundred pages. They sigh against the inside of my skull, waiting to make their way free. Thousands of strikes against the keyboard on my laptop will pave the way to their release. It’s a difficult side to share, one that is the most personal out of anything I create. I stand in awe of it, amazed at the pulse that runs through it all on its own, marching forward without me in a determined and resolute way.

24 May 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:43 -0500

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Its depths are the masters. Collectors of secrets, skilled at pushing down things unknown, unwanted. It is impossible to move around its edges and not feel its pull. Its enchanting allure is unmistakable and demands respect. I stood where the only thing that separated us was the insignificance of two steps forward and marveled at the power it bears, at its beauty, at its purpose.

17 May 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:39 -0500

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The beginning borders on violence, as things at their start often do. A constant wash of wetness clings to everything, even on the warm dry days, even when the sky is full only of the barren sun. The whiplash of the growing season is rustling up the remnants from the last season, exposing its leftover decay. The nakedness of the past will be carried away on the pushy wind, leaving behind the scent of flowers and the settling of a new rhythm.

10 May 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:35 -0500

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At every turn in the house there are soft sweeping flowers, curving in a sweet arc like her smile. She has blanketed each room in a layer of calmness and delicate trimmings. It is a direct reflection of her personality, engrained across every surface. My mind will always pull toward her, my mother, when my eye finds these delicate soothing designs.

03 May 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:27 -0500

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The color signals an intermediate step, a momentary pause between stop and go. The winter has finally stepped to the back of the line and the heat is waiting to throw itself into motion. The punctures of yellow are a confirmation that we have reached the line in the sand that will set off the explosion of the second half of the year.

26 April 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:23 -0500

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Each piece builds on the next until it has brought into sharp focus a soft winding image that pushes against the corner of the tiles. The worn saturated colors draw me in, rubbed dull by the endless footsteps that have scrapped across it. Its trapped beneath the glaze, moving ever so slightly under the weight of the world, satisfied with its permanent role of arching lazily to the right against the grain of the grid.

19 April 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:19 -0500

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in/out

new/old

beginning/ending

start/stop

open/closed

Time is a series of hinges moving backward and forward, setting into motion opposite reactions. One cannot occur without the other, it is the constant recycling of energy into new purpose. The difficulty is knowing which side you are standing on, which direction you are about to be pulled in.

12 April 2009

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:22:15 -0500

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The sun slides around every obstacle in its path, intent on finding a single crack that can set it free. Persistence is its greatest trait, knowing nothing other then its desire to slide over surfaces with a liquid hand. It is a master of nature, unable to see anything beyond itself and its work. As it presses down on us more, the earth moves into submission, eager to allow it to take the lead.

05 April 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:53 -0500

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The greenhouse is host to an intoxicating myriad of smells. Metal irrigation snakes between tables and around corners, providing a path of life support. This is not human turf, we are simply guests, trying not to leave footprints. Even though the environment is nudged into existence by man's hand, it is a sanctuary from the winter season that is finally leaving.

29 March 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:50 -0500

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This is my mother's house, the place where my mind comes to rest the moment I step through the door. It is a steady solid feeling, one without expectation. It is the one place where the seams will simply not split, no matter how hard they are strained.

22 March 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:47 -0500

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It is the Motor City. My mind moves back around the time I first saw the magic of the automotive assembly line when my mother worked in the offices for Cadillac at the now erased Clark Street Plant, never understanding then that the rest of the world wasn't as submersed in the automotive culture as we are.

As I move now through the industry's reinvnetion, knowing that the face of everything I have ever known will be different, I feel the city shift. To those of us who have been here our whole lives, the heartbeat of the assembly lines echo strongly, determined and resolute to remain no matter what the odds.

15 March 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:44 -0500

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It is the untold portions, smearing blankness across each new minute that causes the uneasiness. Behind me is rooted the shadow of things that can't be altered, solid and stacked into a firm foundation. But before me there is no map, no telling, no plan. It is the face of uncertainty, bold and brash in its recklessness.

08 March 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:42 -0500

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Wet dank puddle pocked mud.

Salt bleached strained wood planks.

Hollow thuds as steps strike layered ground.

Sweet sting of half decayed leaves as they unthaw against the new air.

Clear white pieces of square salt unable to exist anywhere outside itself, unabsorbed, foreign.

The new air holding itself close to the surface of the ground, hoping to go unnoticed.

It is the mix of the beginning and ending, all compressed into a single middle that struggles loudly for attention.

01 March 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:40 -0500

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The extrovert in me is most happy when I put the paintbrush in my hand. She says everything that I can't, that I am not even aware needs to be said. She and I have been struggling lately, trying to figure out who should have the most freedom. I have been censoring her, forcing her to be quiet, to be careful of the things that she lets out. But her complaining is growing louder, more insistent. I'm seeing the signs of her more and more and for the first time in a long time, a sense of balance is returning.

22 February 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:37 -0500

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I'm standing in the middle of chance, absorbing the randomness of the events that rush around me each day, wondering at how easily a simple everyday task can soar into something that imprints into your memory.

The difference of a few seconds could have altered life into something unrecognizable, broken, torn. The ideas sit inside my head like a brick, stubborn and solid. I close my eyes in defense of them, working to push the soreness away.

15 February 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:34 -0500

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It is the monotony that skims the surface and holds the cracks in place that I have become addicted to. A sleepy schedule and a set routine have afforded me a contentment I didn't remember I was missing.

For now it is enough, this haze that lets me walk between the splits without disturbing them.

08 February 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:32 -0500

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The snow has slipped away just long enough to reveal the struggling ground beneath it. The rusted metal yawns orange and brown and blue into the random sunlight, punctuating the grayness with a sudden shot of awareness. The harshness of the season has pulled this reaction from the grate, forcing it into a riot state. It cause me to linger, pushing my mind against the dates rapidly slipping from the calendar.

01 February 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:29 -0500

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It is a monotony that wears heavy in a relentless lazy way.

This winter is leaving its mark in my memory, it will be one that I measure future seasons against. At every turn, the landscape is piled high with temporary white hills, distorted under the weight of the frozen rain. I am impatient at the calendar to turn over toward the upcoming thaw.

25 January 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:25 -0500

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It's like looking inside a daydream, trying to see through to the other side.

It is a temporary state, this fluid solidness. A pause in existence, a stutter before it's full potential can be molded into something touchable. The sunlight becomes trapped inside it, pushing around auditions of what it can be, what it wants to be, what it's meant to be.

18 January 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:22 -0500

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Where one exists the other easily sets about to erase it.

It's a macabre dance of opposites, one that light and dark engage in without hesitation. Each one provides its own mystery, a draw that makes us linger to watch the edges blur and coil in on each other. It is beautiful in its own right, the first step for every new beginning.

11 January 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:13 -0500

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The yarn has been twisted into a new thing, this thing that feels like home.

I can feel the ridges of the stitches beneath my feet, lining up in the same rhythm I used when I made them. It's a warm pressure, soothing in the face of the glaring bareness of winter glowing through my window. It holds the pull of sleep, of dreams, of the things that only find a voice when our eyes are closed.

04 January 2009

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:10 -0500

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My good intentions nudge around me, seeking a way to integrate themselves into my life. I tangle my fingers around them, holding them close, feeling them absorb into my skin. They are weighted, determined. They promise to trail behind me every second of this new calendar, reminding me what is important.

28 December 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:07 -0500

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The sudden thaw has set the earth to rushing.

Pools of melted snow and ice frantically push around everything in its path, hurrying toward a destination that I don't understand.

As I stand in the middle of the frenzy, it feels almost as if the past year is slowly leaking away to take its official place in the category of the past. The ground that was so snugly dressed in the face of winter is now peeled back, exposed and raw and set to the task of rebuilding.

It is old and new at the same time, the end and the beginning that will have each one of us stepping over the line into the next year.

21 December 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:04 -0500

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The decorated tree and holiday jingles push themselves into my mind and wrap around memories from past Christmas seasons.

My mother cooking Polish food for Wigilia on Christmas Eve, my father trying to decide between the Elvis or Bing Crosby Christmas music, my brother as a little boy in pajamas bouncing up and down as he opens the latest Star Wars toy, me in a pink barbie nightgown smiling big for the camera as I show off the cool present Santa just brought me.

The magic has not gone from this time of year, simply been transformed into a different kind. Now I find myself ticking off in my mind all the people that I am happy to have in my life, for the quiet moments when I can sit still and simply be happy for what I have, and for every moment of the creative life I have discovered. It is in those moments that life feels the most fragile, yet also the most real.

14 December 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:59:01 -0500

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I am one of millions standing at the center of the circle looking out at the chaos surrounding us. Knowing that our fates lie in the hands of one man is, at best, unsettling. He will either solidify our existence or let us fade as easily as the snow bearing my footprints.

Imagining a different future hits too many walls as options are choked before they can even begin to formulate. Days, hours, minutes, seconds tick by as we wait, wait, wait, wait...

07 December 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:57 -0500

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com*fort

n. To soothe in time of affliction or distress

(e.g.: new winter pajamas with skating penguins on them, a crocheted afghan in progress in my favorite colors, the sleepy snoring of an exhausted westhighland terrier, an addictive book, a fresh layer of undisturbed snow, a house infused with Christmas decorating, the hum of the furnace battling the chill, a loving group of family and friends.)

30 November 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:50 -0500

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My shadow pulls away from me, distorting in the late afternoon sun. It is stretched cobweb thin, betraying the worry that is breeding beneath my skin. I crave an outcome, a resolution, an ending that will either prop open the door or slam it shut with a defeaning crack.

This edge is too sharp to stand on, too demenaing to build a life on.

23 November 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:47 -0500

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I am watching in tortured awe as the country waves its fist and clucks its tongues that my company, my career, my livelihood is not worth saving.

This corporation has paid for my life, from beginning to present. It has stood silent in the background giving me aid through one family member or another. And ten years ago I slipped easily into the ranks of its employment, as comfortable there as I would be in a relative's home.

As thousands of Michigan residents watch the hearings in horror, there is no way to describe the tension that has now become everyday life. It tears at each one of us, thick with betrayal and the unknown as we wait to find out the shape of our future.

16 November 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:44 -0500

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It's the perfect picture of patience. The bronze statues stand outside the library, blending in with the surroundings, becoming nothing more then a part of the ordinary. The amber light is all that breaks the darkness when the sun sets, casting a wary spotlight on them. I stand stand with them for a brief moment, feeling a sliver of their solitude.

09 November 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:41 -0500

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It's one of the hardest things to do: to look through what you know to be solid and see the possibilities on the other side. The water and fish life below the glass floor pulses, working to create its own world. I stand separate from them, in a reality oppositie in every way.

How often we find ourselves separated by such a thin line...how many times we struggle to be the dominant one. Fate scoffs at us, knowing that without each other we would be nothing. It's not until we learn to look through the glass that we will really see each other.

04 November 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:37 -0500

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I stood there, ballot in hand, and felt amazed that something as simple as this piece of paper could help change the future. I darkened the circles, fed my vote into the machine and as I walked from the building, the anticipation for the results took root. I am longing for a new beginning, a new face for my country.

02 November 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:33 -0500

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I am mesmerized by the talents of nature. Trees use each season as their own personal canvas, creating a distinct brand of artwork. They throw themselves into their work with everything they've got. I am humbled to stand at their feet, soaking in their expertise.

26 October 2008

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 23:58:30 -0500

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Standing here, in this place where stillness reigns supreme, I can only feel the slience. The spaces we leave behind speak volumes to the lives we lead. They carve their own stories into the air, leaving words and thoughts and memories hanging in the breeze, waiting for a chance to fall.