Joe and I spent some time this weekend at The Getty Villa in Pacific Palisades, CA. It’s a beautiful place containing a deep stillness felt only in the presence of distant history. In the wake of contemporary political tumult, it was a balm to the soul to wander among the antiquities, a reminder that this, too, shall pass. I don’t know why, but I am particularly drawn to these female figures from the Cycladic civilization from 6500-1650 BC. According to what is known about some of these figures, they were, at one point, covered in bright paint. Time has stripped them to their essence. Distant history has stilled them, offering a place to pause and find respite from the brightly painted present.
Leaning toward the quiet inside the noise.
O.k., technically, tomatoes are a fruit. Nevertheless, I am reaching for the Zen of dancing produce as a remedy for the frenetic, seemingly never-ending political season. Who knows whether I’ll be weeping and gnashing my teeth come November. For now, let the vegetables dance……
In the wake of the massacre in Orlando, it’s hard to find words to express the profound sorrow, the shock, the incredulity, the anger……
Most of the time, the only music I listen to is jazz or classical, or some recommended artist. I don’t spend much time in the world of sound beyond having it as a backdrop to whatever I’m doing. Recently, I discovered a young sound artist who posts his work in places like SoundCloud because he began using an image of mine as his website header. I reached out to him about the image use, and in the process, I began listening to his work. Seakrecy creates tracks that are beautiful, mournful, haunting, and sometimes provoking. I’ve never had an image of mine paired with sound before, and it makes me look at my work differently…..it makes me hear an image.
This particular image accompanies his track, “Only Time Can Tell.” Audible poetry.
As much as it has almost become a cliche, peace on earth, as a reality, remains elusive, but we have to believe it’s still possible. Big peace takes time, but little moments of peace are always possible–like not getting enraged every time someone cuts you off on the freeway, or someone butts in front of you in a line. I try to remind myself I never know what’s going on in another person’s life that drives their behavior. Yes, I still yell at bad freeway drivers, but I try to reign in my animosity and give other humans the benefit of the doubt. I know I’m grateful for every time someone does that for me. Little moments of peace–we can all create those, and perhaps they will begin to add up, so that rudeness and lack of compassion become the exception and not the norm.
I buy fruits and vegetables just so I can photograph them. Is there a twelve-step program for this? While many times we’ll eventually eat the subject, we did not eat the melons, or the beans (which do taste like regular string beans), or the dragon fruit (although I like dragon fruit).
It’s difficult to go through a farmer’s market without my camera, and with it, Joe is forced to carry all our purchases. A question I hear more and more when I load up a bag with some unusual (for us) items: “Are we actually going to eat this?” I don’t see this ending anytime soon. I fall in love with organic shapes and textures and the way they hold the light.
My name is Kristina and I am powerless over produce.