Which video below do you like better? Vote for #1 or #2 in comments below, then go see The Justice collection at:
Two feel good videos for https://kirsteinfineart.myshopify.com
The Justice Collection gives you a way to speak your truth, with the bold statement of a Chinese Character representing the word Justice. Speak your truth in a variety of ways, with coffee/tea mugs, tshirts, dresses, tops, shower curtains, duvet covers, and more. I invite you to find all these items in my new Shopify store:
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First, I want to let you know that I am getting ready to feature more awesome, creative fine artist painters in the very near future, but I have been recently sick. I think I’m finally getting better because today I had the strength to plant some herbs and flowers. A very God sign (I meant to type good, but God works just as well) , I think!
Browse the collection, and let me know if you have a favorite! If you choose to click the above link, it will take you directly to my manufacturing outlet Fineartamerica. Here is how it works. Click on an image you prefer in all Circus Buddies images. Then look to the right for a menu of all the various items. You will see many choices: pillows, duvet covers, shower curtains, prints, posters, cards, totes, beach towels, etc.
Have fun “shopping” with my Circus Buddies!
I hope to be back in gear in a few more days, so can get out some more artist features! Meanwhile, enjoy your summer!
Click on these thumbnails to enlarge.
If an artist can capture a moment in a lightening strike of eloquently drawn lines and painted strokes of pigment, then why do so many artists feel it is necessary to overlabor over creating ? Is a rendition of the moment with dutiful work ethic, and a heavy sense of responsibility always more valuable than a direct moment of complete insight?
By viewing paintings by Lee Brewster, one can see that it is entirely possible for an artist to perfectly align with the universe in a delightful harmony, and capture this moment of spontaneous truth. When this happens, you have a major miracle.
This is the work of painter Lee Brewster, who’s baby steps capture the larger heart and soul of reality in a most certain, profound and complete way.
“today in the studio I had one of those sacred moments. it brought me back to why I love art-making & came when I added a thin layer of white to parts of this little paper piece. I can’t say that it’s done, but it is much improved by what was added today. this piece has been sitting in my studio…waiting. i never gave up on it when it was ugly & awkward, because I saw something worth saving in it compositionally. i love the messiness (or mistakes, if you choose to call them that) from the past & that you can still see shadows of them. mostly I love what I learned about life: that for all those times when I didn’t look like much, someone saw something in me worth keeping around & investing in. someone had a vision for what I would become. so…this little piece of paper with black & white marks on it was my teacher today. she’s is imperfectly beautiful & wise & worthy and I’m calling her “grace”
Arturo Pacheco Lugo was born in the city of Puebla, Mexico on November 12, 1961.
He studied fine arts in the workshops of painters Jose Luis Hernandez and Sando Berger during the early years of his formation as an artist.
Lugo uses experimental techniques, materials and creative processes and aesthetic applications and has had numerous solo and group exhibitions throughout his artistic life. His works are sought after by collectors worldwide.
Paintings by Christina Verhaert sing with a depth of emotion and a height of lucidity. Line moves gracefully through the white space of the paper’s surface, ingiting a feeling of peaceful freedom. In contrast, layers of dense pigment churn with storms of passion and layered complexities, all to create a capture of the tenuous balance of life’s many converging forces.
Verhaert’ paintings call to mind a poem by Percey Bysshe Shelley
O West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odors plain and hill:
Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear!
Thou on whose stream, ‘mid the steep sky’s commotion,
Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,
Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
On the blue surface of thine aery surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head
Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
Of the horizon to the zenith’s height,
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy congregated might
Of vapors, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh, hear!
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams,
Beside a pumice isle in Baiae’s bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave’s intenser day,
All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers
Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean, know
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,
And tremble and despoil themselves: oh, hear!
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even
I were as in my boyhood, and could be
The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne’er have striven
As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And, by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakened earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Christina Verhaert is a painter living in Brecht, Belgium.
Written by Nikos Kount Littérateur
Untitled Wall is Nava Waxman’s interdisciplinary work, featuring a series of studio performances, from her extensive archive material spanning over the past three years to the more recent pieces.
It is an organic and visceral practice, as she is dealing with the concepts of metaphors and allegories which construct her performances and her ongoing research on how to portray situations that are comprised of various elements such as painting, objects, space and her body gestures.
Her work does not acquiesce in an obvious self- representation and beyond her perspective as the creator with the physical presence in the process, she does not consider her oeuvre as completely autobiographical.
Waxman’s aesthetics are referential and by the use of classic art media in combination with New ones, she transform her ideas into a ritualistic Theatre. She conserves in her editing process a continuation of things past gone and of things yet to come. The essence of these junctions and additions influences how each of her artistic materials and techniques relates to each other. Thinking within the framework of object-making, her dilemma and principal focus is how to form an Image both expressively and critically charged while engaging with concepts around experience and representation.
Nava Waxman addresses and questions the traditional method of painting and whilst she deconstructs it, at the same time raises the task of painting to a coalescence of references; from the research and study of Art History to the factual and mythological and other fields such as Literature and Music.
The core of her practice and performances resides in the task of painting on her studio wall. The Wall has been painted over and over again with ephemeral paintings that resonate with the fluid time and space. Traces of paint, lines and faded images are there so as to be merged into something new. Her methods of painting transform the Wall into a Live Ephemeral Palimpsest that constantly changes. The narration of this exhibition is multileveled and concentric.
The context of examining the relationship between performance and visual art lies in the origin of the vast documentations material, since from the very beginning she used photography in order to capture the creation of the artwork as an Art as well. It is a celebratory continuous discovery and illumination of the action after its genesis. The combination of Technics and Time or as Roland Barthes wrote: A sort of umbilical cord links the body of the photographed thing to my gaze: “light though impalpable, is here a carnal medium, a skin I share with anyone who has been photographed.”
The transitory nature and duration of the imagery coincides with her evolution as a painter. She is aware of the fact that the produced work will only last for a limited period of time. Capturing the random, the magical, the thoughts and the feelings made this wholeness tangible. In a way it is a struggle; Painting versus Painted.
These works assemble and at the same time epitomize this ever changing act of looking and most importantly her Solitary monologues, which have only ever taken place in the privacy and isolation of her studio. This exhibition marks the public nature and premiere of these series.
According to Nava, Life is an accumulative formation and this resonates with her painted wall or the covered up paintings. The Untitled Wall stands as a monument of Now, where time, space and feelings are interconnected and the way we perceive the momentum or the future is eminently affixed to our retention of the past.
The photographic sequences are offering an access to the artist’s inspirations and how they are transformed into a perpetual reminiscence of the collective memory. The associations and the situations established through her performances allow an open and unconditional platform for the beholder to experience.
Written by Nikos Kount Littérateur
Nava Waxman is a Toronto-based artist whose work ranges from drawing, painting, and objects to performance and photography.
Born in Israel (1974), she studied painting and drawing at the Toronto School Of Art and received her BA in social science and communications from Open University in Tel-Aviv.
Nava has exhibited in national and international shows and her work has been featured in numerous publications and is held in public and private collections.
She has been the recipient of the Canada Council of the art Travel grant as well as the Exhibition Assistance Grant from the Ontario Art Council. She lives and works in Toronto.