on spring (1)

on spring (1)

who knows which hour it starts, which minute, rhyme or reason. breaking of rules,        our hearts open.                         split a season. on spring,                 slight chance, light            or prayers can change. sons      move in a prouder stance, yet others rage. black bird sings   early the same bird calls late. sense that nearby one year came straight.…

Art Spotlight: Vincent Minor

Art Spotlight: Vincent Minor

Portraiture (Portrait Photography) as Narrative Vincent Minor displays his digital portrait photography, also called portraiture, in The Woven Tale Press IV:1 …I began exploring new ways to express myself, through characters and storytelling with digital photography/manipulation. I started using self-portrait as a means…of creating a narrative from a concept into a visual image.    …

Writing—an elusive art of wisps and webs

Writing—an elusive art of wisps and webs

[dropcap]W[/dropcap]riting is such an elusive art. Writers are often cagey about the origin of their creations when asked where the story started. Not every story is explainable. There are the kinds that start with a wisp of an idea, which is flushed out after years of research. Other stories draw the writer into its web,…

Video, Digital, Analogue, Performance, Textile—LoVid's Collaborative Art

Video, Digital, Analogue, Performance, Textile—LoVid's Collaborative Art

Tali Hinkis and Kyle Lapidus, the collaborative LoVid, do everything from paper and textile to performance and video. Their art intersects with technologies and human cultures. What emerges defies easy categories: interdisciplinary, multi-media, cyborg-art. Call it what you will, it provokes plenty of thought. Read more in this interview, Between Digital and Analogue / Man…

untitled

untitled

once again we come back to ourselves, our life , the reality of  things, we stumble through neatly.   while all around is trembling , we weave together with dreams and possibilies.   there is not much more to add, it is lighter now.                                       birds sing early.   once again we come back to ourselves.…