G A L L E R Y
A R C T U R U S
The Daily News
Today Sae 'n' I ventured out onto the street, far from our stomping grounds, looking to find who know's what.
We took with us a CONTACT map and gallery names but never found any.
The bus was crowded and hot and we couldn't remember where we were or why we were there.
Sometimes everything we need is right in front of us.
Returning to our familiar was a great relief.
Marina writes: "'Anatomy of a Soul' was born out of solitude and self reflection.
The skeleton is a form that supports and moves me through life.
My intuition, which I rely on to be my sight and guiding light,
is felt deeply in my gut and pelvis, that is where I placed eyes.
My heart, an organ I associate with deep states of anxiety,
love, empathy - that is why I placed bursts of colour,
delicate butterfly wings and soft flower petals, in the chest.
These are my first collages.
They document an exploration and discovery
of what lives inside my soul."
Trying to find the story
as it enters from the outside in
If it comes in I will find it.
A moving stream full of images.
One floats to the surface and lets me catch it.
That one image holds a memory of the whole.
If I can begin with that slippery fish
it will lead me through to an ending.
It is always surprising
and always known.
Sometimes we cannot initiate.
Sometimes we do not want to do what we are asked to do,
or we cannot decide what of all the things we think we must do
that we can do.
We are surrounded by movement.
Simple, mundane tasks require our attention.
They insure that we continue to engage.
We must only agree.
Matthew Bates is the nephew of a dear friend of ours, Pete Corr,
who passed away this last week, February 15.
Matthew has been here from England for the last days of his uncle and after.
He has inspired the next show entitled 'In Memory of Spring'
and has left us with many of what he is calling ' floral sculptures'.
This is one of his first excursions into collage which will be part of the new work shown in the Collage Gallery.
Looking from one side I think that is all there is to see.
But life itself keeps turning,
rising and falling with the tides.
Through time I may receive the possibility of seeing from the other side,
a picture of the world,
more expansive and complex than anything I could have imagined.
Somewhere in between
OnE ForTy FiVe...
a time (in the afternoon or morning)
an address (without the street name)
the number of buttons in a jar
the number of centimeters of a shorter than average person
the cost of a skill saw on sale at Canadian Tire
the size of a large herd of cows
five pennies short of three rolls
when the train departs
the page in the book facing 144
(and the number just below the very nice shoe).
In this image I recognize the object to be a chair.
I know that it is sitting on a floor.
The wall behind tells me that I can not walk forward
but must exit the space to the left or the right.
The shadows also tell me something of the space surrounding,
of its shape and where the light is coming from.
And it can be said that the chair recognizes me.
It has been carefully crafted for a person, such as myself, to sit upon.
In this way I am welcomed to the space.