happy Friday!

I love seeing art in unexpected places.

Taco Tonto's, a cozy and colorful Mexican restaurant in Kent, Ohio

A splash of color and dose of art on a gray Friday = happiness!

Photos of Mardi Gras and New Orleans on display, by my dear friend Debra-Lynn Hook

a little dose of art on a Monday... or 2096 doses, if your heart so desires

I know this is not new, but I just wanted to share something that has brightened my days lately. Her Morning Elegance is an award-winning stop motion video (and a great song!), and now you can purchase a piece of art from a selection of 2096 single edition prints that were used to make the video. Click here to visit the photo gallery!

living a dream... well, in the movies at least

A. and I just saw Midnight in Paris this weekend, as a perfect stay-at-home date night, curled up on the couch with a warm blanket and a dish of French macarons. How fitting. Anyway, back to the movie...

What a great film! The cinematography, the script, the music... all taking place in the City of Lights. I loved the "dreamy-ness" (yes, that's a word) of the movie - an aspiring novelist being inside the world of the literary and artistic greats of the 1920's. 

I love this movie poster - set against Van Gogh's Starry Night. Photo credit

Although it wasn't particularly "heavy" acting, I loved Marion Cotillard in this movie - with her French-accented English and 1920's flapper ensembles combined with an effortless, modern coolness. I could seriously have a girl-crush on her.

Photo credit

Photo credit

Photo credit

Gil (Owen Wilson's character): "Can you picture how drop-dead gorgeous this city is in the rain? Imagine this town in the 20's. Paris in the 20's, in the rain. The artists and the writers!"

Photo credit

My favorite line from the movie:

Ernest Hemingway: "I believe that love that is true and real creates a respite from death. All cowardice comes from not loving or loving well, which is the same thing. And when the man who is brave and true looks death squarely in the face, like some rhino hunters I know, or Belmonte who is truly brave, it is because they love with sufficient passion to push death out of their minds. Until it returns, as it does to all men, and then you must make really good love again. Think about it."

Sigh. They just don't make many movies like this anymore.

Even A., whose favorites include the Godfather trilogy, the Bourne series, and The Italian Job, truly loved this film, and was equally captured by Ernest Hemingway's line above.

The story does lead you to a "suspension of disbelief." But just go along with it, and enjoy it without question.

stop and smell the roses... or, listen to the violin

In 2007 the Washington Post had an article about a professional classical violinist who played in one of the metro stations in D.C. during the morning rush hour, as an experiment of sorts. This musician who can command upwards of $100 for a decent seat at a concert made about $32 for 45 minutes of playing 6 classical pieces, including Bach's Chaconne. Very few people stopped to listen. Nearby, people were lining up to buy lottery tickets instead. Some people did throw pennies and loose change into his violin case. Finally, a passerby who recognized the classical pieces threw in a $5 bill.

The article brought up some interesting perspectives of beauty. What is beauty, anyway? What is art? What kind of context do we need to truly appreciate art and beauty? Do the surroundings matter - i.e., a chaotic metro station vs a plush concert hall? What would it take for us the recognize the diamond in the rough? And I also thought, what would I have done? Would I have stopped to listen? What if I were on my way to a job interview that morning?

It reminds me of a scene in one of my favorite movies, Shawshank Redemption (I know, this is the second time I've written about it in just a few weeks, but I just watched it again for the nth time recently). The protagonist, Andy, was working in the prison warden's office, and seized the opportunity to play a record of a soprano and transmit it over the speaker system - making it loud and clear throughout the whole prison and grounds. All the prisoners - hardened by their own crimes, their incarceration experience - stopped in their tracks to listen to the music, looking up at the speakers as though it were a voice coming from heaven. It made me cry the first time I watched it, thinking about the emotions running through the characters' souls during this scene - perhaps, feelings of hope... but if nothing else, wonder.

Anyway, an interesting read. Click here.

the beauty of movement

The human body is amazing...



Danse(s) from Sosh on Vimeo.

Happy Friday!

fill a space in a beautiful way (Georgia O'Keeffe)

"Fill a space in a beautiful way." -Georgia O'Keeffe, artist, 1887-1986

 Cleveland Botanical Garden

It's amazing how the words of others can reflect my inner state. I've been feeling the need for art lately - in many different forms. Interior design. Photography. Movement. There's something about surrounding oneself with beauty - not just for the external or superficial qualities but for the thought, spirit, and emotion that goes into art. Art elevates the mundane.

But at the heart of the matter is, how can we as human beings fill our "spaces" (whatever that may be - home, work, communities) in a beautiful way? Again, not with a superficial kind of beauty--but inner grace, compassion, and action that makes some kind of positive impact, that elevates the mundane for another person. An intention, a word, an act that reminds another person that "yes, the world is a beautiful place."

when yoga and photography collide

 Photo by my dear friend - see her work here and here.

I've often written about how photography becomes a meditative act. I find that when I rush through the process and experience of photography, I also end up being unhappy and uninspired with the resulting images. And it makes perfect sense.

With all the high-tech photography gadgets out there, it can become easy to get caught up in the sparkle of technology. We are almost led to believe that we can control everything. But there are still things that are beyond our control. Such as sunshine. The way sunlight gently shines on dewdrops or the petals of a flower. Or the way it reflects on water. Perhaps a cloud moves and creates shade - and in that second, the light changes. Temporarily, at least. But this is why photography is an act of patience, reflection, and even a sense of submission to what is present. Which is why I think photography is about being mindful, aware, and... yogic. Photography, like yoga, is a chance to give thanks. To enjoy the moment. To be fully present in what is.

Anyway, my real reason for this post is to share this article about "The Slow-Photography Movement". The author could not have articulated it any better. Read it here.

Photo-op of photo-op

Taken by my dear friend Minnie, Maryland 2008

the four directions

I revisited an old journal and found this poem that I took note of from an art gallery on Main Street, in the Over-The-Rhine area of Cincinnati during one of their Final Friday art events in April 2009. Sigh. I miss Final Friday art events in Cincinnati.

And there's just something about prose and/or poetry that reminds me of how the telling of each other's "stories" is important... showing how connected we all are.

So I'm sending my thanks to this poet who shared the poem below:

the four directions


i believe there are not real divisions between us,
look closely.
all of our drawn boundaries are temporary,
they represent our fears.
the directions contain one another.
we may travel north, south, east or west.
we never truly leave a place behind
or arrive at a new place.
we are limitless in this way.
we cannot be contained.
the directions are in our hearts.
they may change circumstance from year to year.
the story lines change.
each story melts into the next.
this is my version of north, south,
east and west.
my four directions are sixty small
pieces of my heart.


-michelle lea red elk
member of the Indian Arts and Crafts Association

food, yoga, and art

Today I'm going to treat myself to a little celebration, after an intense summer class, in which a semester's worth of information is crammed into 5 weeks. In addition to that, there was work/co-teaching, and planning for fall semester duties. This summer flew by at a hectic pace, but I'm giving myself permission to slow down and celebrate summer today.

This morning started with homemade chocolate chip pancakes, thanks to this recipe (I added the chocolate chips -- why not?).

A little later I will practice some yoga... maybe yin yoga? Then later this afternoon, I am preparing a picnic to bring to an outdoor concert, where A and I will sit on the lawn to watch a performance of the Silk Road Ensemble with Yo-Yo Ma at the Blossom Music Center. I can't play music to save my life, but I LOVE the cello. Especially by Yo-Yo Ma. And it will be my first time to see the Silk Road Ensemble.Watching the symphony gives me goosebumps and brings me to tears.  What is it about art and music that just speaks to your soul?

harpist in Grailville, spring 2008

The picnic is still to be deciced, but I'm thinking of red grapes with pecorino romano cheese, pita bread and hummus, a pasta salad with black olives, artichokes, and sun-dried tomato, then strawberries and Nutella, and iced jasmine green tea for me and some kind of wine for A. Yum. 

Food, yoga, and art... what could be better?

Happy weekend!

art + poetry

I don't usually frequent Starbucks. The price is just a luxury for a cup of coffee. But the few times I went to the Starbucks by our university campus, I have found something unexpected. Like the time I came across this photographer's work on display at this very same Starbucks, a "discovery" which has since led to an in-person meeting and a potential connection.

Anyway, this morning I met with a colleague there, and I was delighted to find poetry and art on the walls.

The collection was called "Peace Stanzas", which is a collaborative project between Kent State University's Wick Poetry Center and Glyphix design studio. This poem in particular caught my eye:

What I Want

I want to burn the pages of hate.
I want to feel a waterfall
run down my back.
I want to find a vaccine
for pain and suffering in the human soul.
I want the
He saids and She saids
to be,
We all said!
I want gossip to shrivel
up into a ball
so I can kick it around
with my cleats

Poet:

Shauna Oldaker
7th Grade
Miller South School

See more about the Peace Stanzas here. 

"every living soul is an artist"

I saw this during a visit this afternoon at this delightful, local bookshop in Cleveland. Great thoughts, aren't they?

How do you live your art? 

P.S. Sorry the photo isn't that great - it was taken with an iPhone and not a regular camera!

dry spell

... not weather-wise. I'm talking about dried-up creative juices. For a long time, I've been feeling these conflicting tugs and pulls from different directions. Academics. Work. Yoga. Photography. Art. Well, it's not that they're mutually exclusive. One just has to take priority over the other at different times. For the past year, it's been Academics. Writing has been focused on research, not journaling. For a while my camera was gathering dust. But these are the choices I've made, and I'm standing by them.

As can be expected, I have not been doing much photography lately, and have been somewhat disappointed in my recent attempts.

Almost instinctively, I picked up my copy of Letters to a Young Poet by Rainier Maria Rilke. I leafed through the dog-eared pages, revisited pages I've marked, words I've underlined. I came back to this:

"To allow every impression and every germ of a feeling to grow to completion wholly in yourself, in the darkness, in the unutterable, unconscious, inaccessible to your own understanding, and to await with deep humility and patience the hour of birth of a new clarity: that alone what living as an artist means: in understanding as in creation.

To be an artist means: not to reckon and count; to ripen like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of Spring without fear lest no Summer might come after. It does come. But it comes only to the patient ones, who are there as if eternity lay in front of them, so unconcernedly still and far. I am learning it daily, learning it through pains to which I am grateful: patience is all!"

It does come.

I. Must. Have. Art

Wish granted...

Click here, and here.

yoga and writing workshop

For a few weeks now I had been looking for something to do to nurture my creativity, which has taken a backseat to work and academics for quite some time. I had been feeling quite disappointed in my dried-up creative juices. I needed something to take care of ME, but I didn't know what exactly. I knew I didn't have the time to commit to a weekend-long retreat or a vacation. I would just end up feeling guilty and stressing about all the other things I need to be doing, so I knew that wouldn't work. I wanted something that was short but sweet. Something that made me feel like I was going "away", but close enough that I didn't have to drive too far. I wanted an intimate setting with not a lot of people. So I knew what I DIDN'T want.

A couple of weeks ago, I picked up an issue of Natural Awakenings and found an article about an upcoming "Yoga and Writing Workshop". I was intrigued.

It sounded like just what I needed. Four hours long, less than a half hour drive away. Something that integrated body, mind, and spirit. A little yoga, a little meditation and reflection, and writing! I signed up that very same day. It's amazing how God/Spirit/the universe provides.

I was so glad I went! It was a beautiful fall day. The workshop was held in a quiet old building surrounded by trees. I intentionally got there early to take a walk on the grounds. Came across a weathered, wooden bench....pink wildflowers growing amidst a sea of fallen leaves... My feet sinking into the soft earth.

I stretched, breathed, wrote, and listened. I listened to my body, my breath, my thoughts. And I listened to others. We listened to each other. Fifteen strangers in a room, being present in our bodies and minds, writing, and sharing little pieces of ourselves through the written word. We all wrote, wrote, and wrote some more, in a safe space.

I realize how much writing and art enrich my life. I always wish I could do it more. I know I have realigned my priorities for the next few years until I have the letters "Ph.D." after my name. But I have to find ways to receive and take part in small doses of art every now and then. I feel much more balanced because of it.

Here is one of the poems we reflected/meditated on:

The Healing Time

Finally on my way to yes
I bump into
all the places
where I said no
to my life
all the untended wounds
the red and purple scars
those hieroglyphs of pain
carved into my skin, my bones,
those coded messages
that sent me down
the wrong street
again and again
where I find them
the old wounds
the old misdirections
and I lift them
one by one
close to my heart
and I say holy holy

- Pesha Gertler

For more information about writing workshops, click here.

the dancer

"The goal of my work is to reveal the transcendent through images which focus on the human body as a vehicle of transformation. I am specifically interested in finding a universal art which touches the evolutionary traces embedded in human experience and transcends the limits of nationality and gender, placed on us all in an aim of discovering what is truly universal about being human."

-Maureen Fleming, dance choreographer

feeding my soul... some more

I wouldn't call myself an artist... I'm not an art critic, and I don't have any formal art training. But as someone who appreciates art, I think I can be a pretty good spokesperson for it. :)

Last Sunday I had the pleasure of going to another art show with this friend, to see the work of Tara Donovan at the Contemporary Arts Center.

I can't begin to describe Tara Donovan's work. Look her up on the internet, and you'll find some interesting descriptions and photos... but nothing compares to actually being there, experiencing it. There are no words for it. Her sculptures silenced me, gave me goosebumps and chills down my spine (in a good way), and brought me back to my center the way no other art has. It was actually... yogic. I could really see myself going back there to just sit in that space, and meditate on her art... like meditating on a mandala.

At the art shop of the CAC, I came across a book: "Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees" by Lawrence Weschler. I think that phrase captured my experience that day.

Her work is on exhibit at the CAC until May 3rd. Oh, and did I mention that if you're an Enjoy the Arts member*, you can get 2 free tickets to the Contemporary Arts Center (among other places)? Otherwise, tickets are still under $10... a small price to pay for an incredible art experience.

*I personally think that the Enjoy the Arts membership is one of THE BEST things about this city.

feeding my soul this weekend

Aaaaaahhhh.....
I let myself sleep in this morning, guilt-free.

Work and school combined have left me feeling run-down. My coworker commented, "You have to remember, you're not a young college student anymore." I had to laugh at that.

Sometimes the "shoulds" of life make me feel so consumed. There's a lot of giving involved in a service-oriented job. I really do love my job, but sometimes I have to remember that there is a balance, and that I don't have to be everything to everybody... or else I will feel so consumed that there would be no energy left. And so I remind myself to find ways to "refill my cup". So that when Monday rolls around, I have more to give.

So, in an effort to refill my cup, I celebrated the end of the work-week, the end of the quarter, and the end of finals with art last night. Lots of it. A photo exhibit here, followed by a poetry reading, followed by live music, and then a cupcake from this place to top it all off.

For some reason I was expecting the live music to be jazz, but it wasn't. My mind must've made that up. But back to the arts.



I LOVE the arts in Cincinnati. I never understood why Cincinnati has been nicknamed "Nasty 'Nati". I think this city has a lot of things to offer, a lot of best-kept secrets. It's not all "in your face" the way New York City attractions or other big-city attractions are. You have to let Cincinnati's charm unfold, but you also have to make the effort to discover little pockets of interesting places, beyond Kings Island and waterparks (which I haven't been to and have no real desire to go). Case in point - who would have thought I would find an event with Tibetan monks making sand mandalas in a part of town many people still avoid?

And really, Cincinnati's best-kept secrets are not that hard to find. I came to Cincinnati 6 years ago, and over time Cincinnati grew on me. Being an outsider to this country, I have come to call Cincinnati my home (well, at least for now and until my work visa expires. But that's a whole other story and I won't talk about that here.).

At the exhibit last night I found it comforting to see some familiar faces, some were people I've met, some were people I haven't met but have seen out and about in the community, whether it's in other art galleries or art events, or even at the neighborhood coffee shop. One person even recognized me from a small art show that I did almost a year ago. I like that. I like how art brings people together. But more than that, seeing the same people gives me a sense that I am no longer such an outsider. It gives me a sense of being...home.

This weekend I'm going to another art exhibit here, then to a play at this theater. And then I'm contemplating going to another show tomorrow night. It almost makes me dizzy, but in a good way.

I love that even with the dire economy, the arts is thriving here. I think we all need it. Art is a breath of fresh air. We need reminders that there are a lot of good things to appreciate. We need reminders to live a beautiful life.



What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit. ~John Updike

The laundry can wait.

photos taken in Over-The-Rhine, October 2008

in pursuit of inspiration

One Thousand Mile Stare, photo by Lisa Kristine

I came across Lisa Kristine's photo gallery when I was in Sausalito, California, this summer. The landscapes and portraits were larger than life, the colors vibrant, and the textures so real you can almost reach out and touch them.

What I also loved is this statement:

"I want to welcome [viewers] into the exploration of our mysterious life with a spirit of importance. And astonishment. And hope." - Lisa Kristine

I find this to be an invitation to life itself.

(I wish photography school were in my near future. Not yet, but it's in the horizon somewhere.)

post-art show high!

I did it! I really did it!

Obviously, the fact that I did my first-ever art show still feels so surreal! But it was an amazing experience, and I feel incredibly grateful to everyone -- family, friends, and strangers alike -- for their support, interest, and positive energy. It was so thrilling to be in the midst of other photographers and artists, who generously share their ideas and inspire me through their passion for their craft.

It was an honor to share my love for photography and capturing "everyday miracles" with all of you. I'll keep you posted on future art shows!

Essex ArtWalk

This year, I'm going to do one thing that (kind of) scares me: displaying my photography at an art show!

The Essex ArtWalk event is part of the Fine Arts Sampler Weekend in Cincinnati. Please visit the Essex Studios on February 8 and 9 (Friday and Saturday), from 6-11 pm, and see my Photos of Everyday Miracles.

I look forward to seeing you there!