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Corduroy


 

A corduroy day

small hills and valleys settled with chill

not familiar yet

this morning sharpness

snaps cold fingers

in a call to attention

cutting through pretense and falsehood

only an arms length away.

An epidemic of such proportion that it infiltrates my dreaming

stirs itself into my first bitter sip

I can sometimes hear it whispered in the periphery of listening

to your calm reasoning.

 

Insects are intensely scary when they are swarming

a plague of locusts

are not anything like the grasshopper you find and hold in your hand

spellbound by the fine precision of its creation.

Mobs are the wasps that sting

so better not to get too close

but their wings, like the butterflies a thousand miles away

are causing the winds to lift the edges of our smooth flat sheets.

They may soon resemble sails with us on boats

we no longer know to navigate.

 

A corduroy day

with nap and ridges

like fur on the back of a fearful dog

reading the morning news. 

 

 



Alita ( truthful one)


Choir

I am learning to sculpt soap stone from a master

my first attempts are from his cut offs

small twisted bits resembling cashews

but larger

each one fitting inside the palm.

 

Where the saw blade severed them from the whole

that flat is now vertical

seven  heads standing in a row

small twisted mouths singing their hearts out

 

cashews don't sing

 

but they are compulsively delicious

and sculpting is quite compulsive

even more than cutting one's nails

filing the rough edges and a nose appears

or a forehead bevelled on the cusp

fingertips feel the smooth countenance appear

holding three dimensions in the hand.


An Excursion



Yellow door and a tailless black cat
we enter the day
striding up the slight incline
towards the car.
A purposeful departure towards coffee.

There are still puddles after the nights rain,
all else has been blown dry.
Autumn sun shines bright and rises late,
roses are still blooming at the café garden as we park.
No one is sitting outside.

We are on a mission
to pick up stone.
(notice the journey is not of one)
A highway destination
I navigate from the passengers seat,
turning my head to examine the pattern of balconies in the clouds,
reading the bill boards as they flash by.
An undulating fleet or army or troop all moving as one,
the Roman army on wheels peacefully invading Jerusalem
or the Spanish armada crossing the channel.
A  cinematic view of the expressway.


On the return
the vehicle is heavy with purchase
five unfinished sculptures in the back
carried in strong arms and laid on the floor in the gallery
waiting for hands to shape them into life.

 

 


Living Stone



    by Master Sculptor Floyd Kuptana

 

This piece was created in the 'beneath the stair' studio at Gallery Arcturus and was finished today.  It is on view for a limited time in the upstairs Kuptana Gallery which features his most recent sculptures and drawings. 


Singing the Japanese Blues


A little bit happy

a little bit sad

to be back

 

 

Returning



A Patch of Sun

 

I am sitting in a patch of sun

the only place I found today

to stop my pacing restlessness, from moving me around.

I don't need glasses

except to read  signs and headlines

the fine print and ingredients

price tags at the local second hand.

 

Some five dozen pairs of magnifiers

stashed on every floor

all dollar store zoom lensers.

 

It's a gift of age not to see the details

the shock of loose skin and spots,

which fade and tighten

when seeing hangs from a string 'round the neck.

 

What are we all trying to do?

Sweeping up the butts outside

picking up the shit.

Overall,

trying to clean up the mess left behind

to create some semblance of beauty

some hint of order.

A lasoo or drawstring around what matters.

 

Sometimes hunger is demanding and insatiable

mostly it can be forgotten

lost in boredom or enthusiam

equally displaced.

 

Maybe we'll get a dog

I can't imagine what that will change

fear of complacency

barks on the inside and frightens what might be different away.

 

We are sitting on opposite sides

of a small table

or kitti corner

or lying like spoons in the bed

one end of the couch

or the other

driving fast forward

sometimes reverse.

It's a journey we are on, together.

 

 


between two worlds


the five faces of Floyd

 

 

Being your apprentice

I watch

what you had finished yesterday

disappear

in your fearless hands

soft agreements disagree

dangerous spinning blades

make time move faster

a lifetime

from birth to death

in minutes

and in the aftermath

something survives

with all its struggling

visible.

 

 


Taking Root, Here and There


Journeys


 

Sae will be travelling to Japan and deborah will also go on a short trip at the same time.

We will continue to post our blogs but they may be somewhat erratic due to time differences. 

 

Exploring the Depths



Introducing our resident sculptor and rock star...


 

Floyd Kuptana occupying his studio under the front steps of the gallery,

where he is creating a new masterpiece while teaching me, his newest student, the tricks of the trade.

The Space Calls the Show


What began last week in the gallery as 'o v e r t u r n e d' has evolved to include 'Hortense and Hernan'

and has added the important quality of seriousness.

All the exhibits which take place in the gallery are a conversation, in the space, with the space and for the space.

It is the medium of the space which allows visitors to have an experience of something other.  

Ok, Let's get this over with


The Winds of Change are Blowing



Wondering which end is up?


 

                                          Part of a new installation in the main gallery entitled;- 'o v e r t u r n e d'

 

A little bit scary, a little bit risky


 

 

This image is telling the story that humans are part angel and part donkey (the horse is just pretending)

Sometimes the donkey is wild and crazy.

Sometimes there is balance and agreement between the parts. 

The Marriage of Dark and Light


The Secret is Out


Inspiration is a well kept secret


it just happens

Robot or Puppet?



                                                                                       

                                                                                     feeling mechanical

Focus


Staying Afloat


 

Learning from those who went before

how to focus on what's  required,

pick up the oar and paddle.

It is the engagement with practical mundane tasks

that keep us independent and grounded. 

 

The Posture of Those Who Work


Let the Rain Fall


Spinning Towards the Present


Travelling Into the Past


We've Got the Second Hand Blues


the sound of one hand clapping


HAAAaaaaah!


Call to Duty


What side of the bars am I on at any given day?

And why, I wonder, must I feel cornered before I can even know what skill or effort 

it is possible for me to make.

 

Life calls us to attend to life.

 


Family Reunion


An interesting cast of characters, four generations meeting for lunch.

 

Finding Language


 

It seems to me that language is as personal as perception. 

We can only describe what we know

and each of us must attempt to do that by whatever means we have available.

Creativity is an attempt to communicate. 

 

 

Inside the Room


tHe dePth of uNknowIng


 

 

Light and shadow create shapes

shapes create forms and landscapes

landscapes have roads that twist and curve and disappear into distances

and there is a sense that someone is watching all this

an observer who wonders and  sometimes questions

what is this all about? 

 

A Place I Want to Go To


Acts I , II and III




Three Days to Get Through


 

 

Meet you again on Tuesday.

 

 

Trying to Find the Line


 

 

Like blades of grass

to many to focus on a single one

a storm threatening but not arriving

beginnings but no completions

the line is there

but cannot be grasped

   just that kind of day. 

 

Finding a Rock


Today we went on a road trip 

to the Sculpture Supply Center 

 



To find a rock for Floyd to carve.

Stay tuned to see what emerges.

 

 

The Three Muskateers (in disguise)



Becoming the Space Between...


...I meet the centre

Leaning Towards the Center


 

Side by side

each coming from the opposite direction  

we come to know the centre as it is contained 

in the space between.

 

  

Smalls


Today's Theatre



 

 

a box

tall enough to stand inside

one open pink umbrella for the roof

a lizard, a parrot, two giraffes and a bear

 

and no idea!

A Different Saturday Outing


 

 

                      We invite you to come to the reception for this exhibit this Saturday, July 14, from 2pm to 5pm 

Sorry, but today we're just exhausted


Opening a Box of Colour


Caprese Salad


Friends and Artists Together





Layers


 

 

Today was a day of many layers

laughter and tears

under a dark cloud

under a bright cloud

all of us around the table 

Eron, Vivian, deborah, Sae,

sitting, standing and dropping to our knees.

The Depth of Language


 

 

Each word is shaped by the meaning that it holds.

A word has a weight and a form.   

It can be obscure or transparent.

With curiosity it is possible to see into it and sense its many lifetimes.

 

 A word rarely stands alone but reflects the context in which it is placed.

 

Words are vehicles of travel 

carrying us towards understanding.

Ruled by Weather


Framed


"I have the ball"


                                                                                               

 

                                                                                                 "Catch!"

 

 


Mood Indigo

 

 

 

sultry and passionate


From One to Many




Where's the Parade?


Looking for and Finding



 

 

'C U S T O D I A N S' is the new exhibit in the Collage Gallery.

The Colour of a Question



 

 

In asking a question, with no immediate answer, we enter into a place of unknown possibility.

In asking a question, with no immediate answer, the question may lead us home.

 

All the World's a Stage


And all the men and women merely players...

 

                                                                             Shakespeare

A Symphony of Lines


Moved by Light and Each Other




In Different Places Under the Same Sky



A Place to Sit


 

There are times when I have been given to

and there are times when I have the impulse to give

both in receiving and in giving 

trust is the inspiration.

 

The Language of Friends


Taking Each Other for a Walk


Carrying our Prayers Heavenward


 

This line of prayer flags had fallen from where they were strung, onto the ground beneath.

A squirrel came, stuffed the one end into its mouth and carried it through two backyards, 

up into the tree where it has its home. There they are, still hanging.

 

 

Repetitive and Random


 

 

Most of what I do in my life is repetitive. 

I learn from what I repeat, when I am able to observe. 

And life itself supplies the random, the unexpected, even the unwelcome. 

Those are the challenges I react or respond to.

Somehow it's all right here, even while I look for something more.

Asking to be with myself


                                                                                         

                                                                                            ...is an opening

You seeing me seeing you

                                      a mutual regarding


Just Looking for a bit of Shade



Alive


A fish in a bowl is totally dependent on us for its survival.

It can endure our neglect for a surprisingly long time 

but also it can revive dramatically with care and attention.

It is possible for us to have relationship with every creature

when we recognize it as living.

 

 

 

 

 


Walking Away from the Week


Waiting for the Light to Change



Before the Wind Makes a Wish


The Next Move




Between Inside and Out


 

there is a cloud of unknowing

and in the splitting of the tree

new life growing.

 

 

Lost on the Street


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.

Finding the Rabbit (today's hunt for inspiration)




...not the rabbit!


Shining a Light


 

...on the seriousness of work

We are calling this door Friday...


 

 

...and it opens to the weekend

An Open Handed Gesture


 

Ready to receive what comes

and what falls away

 

Finding the Path


Now What?


 

 

After working towards the completion of a body of work

and the opening which follows

there is often a dry patch

when there seems to be no direction.

This is today.

 

 

Closing the Gap


                                                       

 

                                                         When we close the gaps we alter the landscape.

 

 

Cropped Short Stories

                  Starring 

 

                Black Dog


           

               Red Foot Pigeon Theatre


         

 

                  and Guernsey Cow

 

 

 

 

             

 

 

     Coming soon to a gallery near you!

 

 

             Gallery Arcturus

                        Show Time             

        Saturday May 5, 2  - 5pm

           Seats still available


The Tools of the Trade


 

 

Today Sae 'n I spent all day hanging what is to be 'her show'.

It was very finicky work and exhausting.

We should finish tomorrow.

It will be beautiful!

 

 

All the Better to See You With


 

 

              This is a small glimpse into the space where Marina Hashemi is exhibiting her collages:- Anatomy of a Soul

 

 

Trusting the Other


 

In a collaboration each participant  is moved by the other,

quite literally they are each mobilized by a recognition 

of potential to create something of beauty and perfection.

Collaboration requires heart and seeing. 

It is always surprising and its essence is joy.

 

Sensing the Arrival of Green



Up Coming Event


 

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." 

 

 

Brushes in Motion


 

Today's conversation between Floyd Kuptana and 'that woman' aka deborah harris

Trying not to be Grey


A Sliver of Blue


Pink Forecast



The Ice Queen Cometh


Enter the Space