07/07/09

Stand me up so I can see
My brow's horizon through shielded palm
Peering forward
Catching glimpses of advances
Ankles begin to hurt
Leaning towards visibility
Foolishness
Embed heels into posture
And cast eyes
Rest to allow eternity’s message
Non arrival
Non answer
Instead develop breathing limbs
Lift
And take your hands off me while doing so
Find it yourself

NY mag's Map of Astoria hot spots

I'm pissed that they failed to mention Brick Cafe...one of my favorite spots in all ALL of New York city.

Nonetheless, rock on Ivona! Loveday31 deserves top mention!

the september issue the september issue the september issue

My friend, author and professor, Sadia Shepard produced The September Issue, a documentary on Anna Wintour and the making of Vogue magazine.

I saw it at Sunshine last night, and really thought it was fantastic. Being a believer in unique personal aesthetic, I have always been willing to respect fashion and couture in a high, yet attainable regard. Therefore, it's truly a treat to see a slice of the inner workings.

Un plus....Anna Wintour exemplifies successful delegation and rapid fire decision making. I came away having learned more about the process of a generous and intrepid emblem--it should be okay to crack that unapologetic whip when there is a greater objective in focus. Even if it's regarding handbags and riding boots....

Time to renew my subscription.


This year's September Issue. The 2007 issue referred in the film's title has Sienna Miller as a cover girl.

Artistay

Check out my tiny post on Artistay!

TAKT open studios and Golden Parachutes

(excerpt from vagabond)

Leah and Joanne, doing the "old soul" dance.

On my last full day in Berlin, Joanne had her open studios at TAKT. Before attending the open studios, Joanne and I did some running around the city and took a free ride on the tram because the machines weren't working. A few hours later, I was ticketed on the UBahn for not validating my train pass. Ah, the irony. Which reminds me, I should probably take care of that...



I also went to visit my old friends Paul and Jesi from Cat'art at their new gallery, Golden Parachutes. The space is extremely impressive and Paul and Jesi are damn near fluent in German. Way to MAKE YOUR OWN DAMN MOVIE. I admire their perseverance.




nothing to eat, paper collage

On my way out, they pointed me in the direction of Viktoria Park for an all sides view of Berlin.








TAKT Open Studios: July 2009




Paper installations by Leah Hartman-Frankel


obermauerbrucke, one of Joanne's latest from her residency and one of my favs.



sculpture and collage by Natalie Wood






textual painting by Alice White


Sabra , visual artist and stop motion animator


paintings by Antonio

Much more can be viewed by clicking on the album below.

BERLIN 2009

Berlin was a slanted journey. Transitional and expectant, therefore scattered and unfinished. Many of my creative goals and aspirations were invigorated, making my scope of the future sparkly and green. I felt anxious and motivated--a not always volatile combination. It could be best described as being in a hurry or late for work while riding the subway. Door shut, can’t move, and you can only wait for your stop.

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Aufvedersehen Jo Jo!

I also found myself missing my apartment and familiar faces. Running away from home will do that to you. At that point, I decided to listen to myself. On my flight back to Paris I hit the last pages of my latest notebook as I came to the realization that I should use my return ticket home and not prolong my trip. My expectations for some clarity had been met...possibly even prior to my expedition.

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I do believe I have reached a clearing.


Danke Arthur!

The Paris update is next!!!

swimmer's ear

I have been on the lower east side for a week now. Every morning I have woken up with swimmer's ear. That clogged pressure mixed with probably just a teaspoon of water, making you feel like an infant with an earache. Am I sleeping to close to the fan? That nightmare I was having must have involved cupping my hand over my ear to listen for the ocean.

Really wicked dreams lately. Old friends showing up to work at my restaurant and predictions of future events and faces that end up not being totally incorrect. Sometimes I hate my clairvoyance. However, it's one of the few things that keeps me responsible.

Ben my new roommate and best friend/little bro left for Portland two days ago for the world premiere of Miguel Guttierez's latest show, Last Meadow.

I got some more work on Saintete and now I'm working on a poetry submission and over editing an essay...somebody stop me.

Ah, and read this while you're at it. Eileen Myles' The Importance of Being Iceland.

slay dragon

BERLIN
(excerpt from vagabond: burning shoulders)

The dependable heavens had emerged with a spare bedrooom in Friedrichshain. My new friend Ariane from PAF connected me to a massive 5 bedroom with tons of light and a balcony. So, after one night in the A&O hostel, I manhandled the metro and arrived at Samariterstrasse to meet Arthur. An intense lifesaver. Walking around that place enforced that throwing my coin in the life's fountain does continue to bring fortune, I just have to be patient enough to receive it.



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Unfortunately, little Bessie, my 5 year old Powerbook is slowly failing me and I was unable to connect to the Internet. That news was earth-shattering for me and I had a mild panic attack. I didn't have a phone making the Internet my only way of communicating. This was never an issue, until I was suddenly out of the wire-free country and plopped back within schedules and meeting places did I realize that it can be a necessity. And I was late to meet Joanne for lunch. Arthur gave me clear directions on his map, but I was flustered and cloudy and turned left instead of right and arrived SOMEWHERE. That afternoon won't be forgotten, just stored to remind myself that I do possess raw emotion and hopefully more sensibility.
So so lost.



The next day we hit the flea market on Bohxaneger Strasse and I bought a leather doctor's bag. We sat in the park amongst the unleashed beasts on two and four legs and did some brainstorming on a project.



My first solo day in Berlin needed to begin with errands. My hair oil needed to be replaced because I had to chuck it at Paris Orly. 100 ml... I packed a lunch and begin my morning with coffee and the quest for African hair products in Berlin. Spontaneity is a necessity and the key to life’s thrills and learning, but an impulsive nature can produce foolish and easily prevented sacrifice.




Key city ingredients: lush parks, affordable access to contemporary art, supermarkets with a decent level of variety, good coffee, smiling locals


Warschauer Strasse and the park at the Eastside Gallery


I am enjoying creating my own story. Chapters inked by uncertainty and stress and the rewarding exhale of arrival based on instinctual orientation. Cerebral architecture.

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Digging the relaxed post war vibe. Serene explosion. Dispute on the inside out.

My writing is bursting bits here--confined, but it's happening. I am marveling at the ease at which I've been welcomed into this apartment. I've been trying to not disturb and draw minimal attention to myself.

A new place to work, a new place to work a new place to work a new place to work





After the Eastside Gallery, I took the metro to Tiergarten, Brandenburg gate, the Holocaust memorial. And on my way to the National Gallery to see some Max Beckmann, I found the Bauhaus exhibit and opted for that instead. Art school fantasies.




Holocaust Memorial




Bauhaus exhibit


Brandenburg gate

Change circumstances.
photos from TAKT open studios and my visit to golden parachutes, next.

Licking lips
deliberating bridges
of life's past
impulses advancing
before slow motion
scenes rejoin
the enlarged
actuality of forward
steps.

vagabond: burning shoulders

The exit from PAF was a churning blender swirl of a storm. Up at 6 from my Nariman wake up call and speeding off down the road with my doubleshot of espresso spilling onto my jeans. The train to Laon was quick and I deliriously carted my luggage into the train station toilet...resulting in drowned belongings.

My arrival at Le Gare du Nord was almost too fast suddenly placing me in the metro. I have a tendency to ignore the best laid plans, and determined to follow my sleepy intuition. Instead of waiting for Ikue at the corner cafe, like specified, I figured that since I was early I would just continue onward and eventually find her apartment. I must have been hiding in the countryside for too long.

My only plan for my arrival in Berlin was to see Joanne. There were no concrete sleeping plans, just an unconfirmed reservation at a hostel and the possibility waiting to hear from two friends with options for extra bedrooms. We separated, her on her way to an opening and, me on my way to the A&O hostel in Mitte.

More to follow...

she spoke about small sentences.

Space ship
invitation
smoke stack
unleavened translation
holiness
crooked sunnies
stained eyes
dirty sweater
Chinese boots
burnt food
imagery
courage
milk.



Celine said to me, "Do you want to see a special room?"




Invisible spaces that fall in the wilderness, destined to eventually never make a sound in my sight line. Purposeless. Welcomed imagery as I polish off more self hate. Her gift of nuance cooled my pistol of discouragement emptying the bullets on a cleared palate. Abilities were revitalized and I was able to see my reflection again.

I don't remember what had upset me that day.
I just remember Celine.




Celine Davenas
davenas.celine@gmail.com