11 december 2011````

Some things are not meant to be known. Only Believed -"

03 december 2011````

facta non verba!

15 november 2011````

~ LAST DAY to help Coneveyor Arts Reach their Kickstarter GOAL!!! Tonight, Midnight!! -

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/conveyor/conveyor-magazine

2 november 2011````

~ "tremendum et fascinans- tremendous, horrible, because it smashes all your fixed notions of things, and at the same time utterly fascinating, because it's of your own nature and being" ~

10 october 2011````

> "But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? ..
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth.  
Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. 
Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself." <

1 october 2011````

ps1 bookfair through 2 october!!
11a-7p Both Days!

http://www.nyartbookfair.org

29 september 2011````

a nruter ot emoh si elbissopmi, dna taht si semitemos woh ti dluohs eb.

10 september 2011````

they were down there in the Belly of the whale. i waited.
a metal latch, sea water~

24 august 2011````

~~I had decided Not to Grow Old for 400 Years~~

17 july 2011````

~~The Fates Lead Those Who Will; Those Who Won't They Drag~~

08 june 2011````

"Don't cry because its over, smile because it happened!"

06 june 2011````

Schizo honest list:

1- reeeeally far, most all the time.

Feels like I am watching myself, hearing a person named Tara speak, respond. But she is always a She, not an I.  She is far.  Far from me. Far from the life happening constantly around her. We. Very far from what i imagine and assume is that feeling of a center, a home, a contained and known Self.

The odd part- which can be both good and bad- is that i barely care. It's good bc then we can be very functional, get things done, generally interact w others and even joke around and express generally honest emotions. It's not noticeable to others. I have gotten very good at gauging how much it will or will not upset me, how distracted i may or may not get.  So that mostly I just ignore the feeling that I am not whole, and pretend like I'm interacting w people, and then it seems like i really am.  The funny thing is, i care IMMENSELY for the people in my life. I just cant FEEL that thing as much as it seems others normally do, during interactions. It makes me feel uN-human. From about ages 4/5/6 to 18/19 i honestly believed i was not human.  It was the only logical way i could emotionally make sense.

I fool even us.  Myself. Which is good bc then i don't get nearly as upset or paranoid as i used to.  I just accept it and carry on.  I accept the filter between me and the world.  To embrace it actually helps a lot.

It can be bad however, when she gets extremely overwhelmed by this innate sense that the detachment is unnatural and unpleasant deep down. Most often it really does not affect or interfere w Life, bc my schedule luckily permits me to turn into a recluse and hermit for a day or few on end when i cannot handle the feeling, the delusions, and facing people and the World. I often wonder if I come off to others as stable and healthy.  Bc that is all i show them.  Even my family, especially perhaps. I have especially learned to keep it from close ones most times, so as not to tax them, thank goodness. To cope i tend to literally, physically touch heavy objects, tactile and sensate things, keeping me grounded, connected.

Still it can be also bad bc i have a feeling of urgency brimming inside, well up many times, that i want to explain to others how far i am, just to feel a connection, or a genuine bond, if only momentarily. But of course that is not only odd and awkward, but impossible. I act and look fine. So its impossible to explain how apathetic and simultaneously bursting with instability and far-ness she and we are. Bc it doesn't look that way at all from the outside. Perhaps like looking someone straight in the eyes, visually recognizing that theirs are brown in color and vocally expressing it, but then trying to explain that actually, you are blind.

The only timeS i do feel as One and at Home is when im completely alone, safe. Underwater, high up, with stillness, no change, no stimuli, just vast space and loud muffled silence.


2- if ppl ask, i tell them i am borderline, schizotypal, or other things.  I stopped doing that bc their response is always, no you're not.  You're fine.  How do i clear it up: yes, I was, in my very darkest times, and there are always remnants.  i was extremely unstable and very spontaneous, often dangerously. I was very black n white in my thinking, very tunnel-visioned, somewhat PTSD, OCD, suicidal, masochistic psychologically and otherwise, bipolar, blahblahblah. and aren't we the same person, generally speaking, in the same body and mind for our one lifetime?

Borderline especially though, of all of the diagnoses, is something people, even doctors, tend to give up on historically, apparently.  But not untreatable. It's not impossible to treat at all. Just very, very' very difficult.  It seems that the damage that could be caused by the mere EfforT of tryinG to treat it, to all parties, can often drain and destroy the spirits of everyone involved, to a very risky degree, while trying. And change may never even be successful in many cases.

The only real reason i have learned to overcome it,  to a decent degree, with lots of time, many scars, regrets and pain caused not only to me but more importantly, to loved ones, is bc i had immense, immense support.  That no one like me deserves, but I fell into luck for reasons unknown.  I try not to question it much more for that tends to deteriorate things. Rather, i find myself feeling grateful more hours than exist in a day. Very Unfortunately, things and hearts and parts of people have been sacrificed in order for me to become who i am.  To be functional, have perspective, not resort to lashing and crying and stabbing walls and myself and getting arrested and throwing knives and glass when i don't understand something. Being well adjusted, as some seem to think.

But again, how do i clear it up: it's not that simple. People don't 'get better' and then they are someone shiny and new. Is funny how friends and family seem to prefer not to remember the ugly parts of ones history. But why should they? Its ugly for their hearts also. Especially i would assume, since i lost any friends during my worst times. I am the most healed i could possibly ever be right now. I am a miracle. I believe in impossible healing from love and human support. And time, time, time, as is said. [and yes, medicine, very much, but that is merely a crutch, and that is another rant.]

What is then difficult for me to grasp and balance is the memories of who i was and who i still have remnants of, popping up in odd and intrinsically built-in mannerisms, thought processes, etc. And then having people around me think, well she seems healthy.  She has had no pain, and thus cannot understand mine. I can never claim to be in anothers shoes, but the fact that I will never be that Tara who died, who i had to make an effort to kill off, in order for this one to live, remains.

27 may 2011````

THANK YOU Society Contemporary!

06 may 2011````

THIS WEEK NEWS [[13 MAY, 8 MAY, 7 MAY]] :

Group Exhibition Expected 2011 April-May at Society Contemporary Gallery in  NY, NY

OPENING: 13 MAY FRIDAY 6-8p!

http://www.societycontemporary.com/

Group Studio Visit with Wayne Liu and Liz Sales for Festival Of Ideas NYC 2011

SAT: 7 MAY, 5-9pm | SUN: 8 MAY, 11-6pm

107 SUFFOLK STREET #411 / 4th Floor

http://www.festivalofideasnyc.com/

Participating and Speaking in Madison Avenue Gallery Walk / Tour in  NY, NY

SATURDAY: 7 MAY, 11-6pm

http://madisonavenuegallerywalk.com/

21 april 2011````

Cut, shaped, writhing, living paper; long and rounded curved and bulbous in sheathe-shapes of paper; tacked and pinned and paperclipped into a corner into a window that leads not to anywhere here anymore.

Strips and stripes of paper, it looms, it invites;

Grasses, tree roots white and gray paper-tree-roots that are branches that are roots again. Water.  Roots sprawl also like thick water gushes.  It is rushing white waves I can smell its brine and salt, its chlorophyll, its soil.  My fingertips can run over the delicate vines and it can unexpectedly, suddenly, and with playful rhythm rush out grab my wrist and I enter a tiny tunnel, an endless vortex of light.

Vines and seawater and grasses thrashing growing as it stays rooted growing out and up and across, thrashing around surrounding me.  I breathe.  I am becoming the water I am a creature of the earth of the sky and of the sea of all things still and with pressure that muffles ears into heavy silence.  I am a creature of this earth-sea I thrash and thrive with its Life; now we are one sprawling entity of sea, salt, chlorophyll, meshed veins, meshed vines, meshed blood, meshed water-waves.  I am lost in a sea of water-air that has no end.  It is a good lost; the kind that I never want to be found from here.  Simmering whites of water waves; filling my non-ears melding with my non-tears hot and irritating and yet running in place, a vast space to be still, weightless, water, air, free.

18 april 2011````

[Older News!] >> T For Transition image in December Issue of Discover Magazine! :

Click HERE for Scans

1 april 2011````

OPENING TONIGHT!! -- THANK YOU Pictura Gallery :]

2-Person Exhibition in Bloomington, IN:

http://www.picturagallery.com/

30 march 2011````

1- points for another suggestion that arts backgrounds in education helps problem solving skills in non-arts fields, immensely!

http://blogs.hbr.org/cs/2011/03/want_innovative_thinking_hire.html

12 march 2011````

OPENING TODAY: THANK YOU Estuary Gallery! :D

Groups Exhibition in Beacon, NY:

http://www.estuarygallery.wordpress.com/

11 march 2011````

To be considered for small spirits, concealing and revealing their LifE.

1- Laughing on the rest notes

2- an Always warm rain

3- someone i thought i forgot

4- putting gold into the cracks, because remembering them could be a beautiful thing.

03 march 2011````

A Boulder is Pushed; Slowly, Doggedly.

• I used to love reading the tales of ancient Greece and Rome.
• We are doing this every day until we die, and more humans are born- it only repeats?
• Photography’s ability to create alternate realities
• Games of risk we play as children — vs the systems of defense and tolerance we develop as adults.  Dreaming ‘games.’ I would also climb trees 100 feet into the sky, sleep on the edge of my roof, do flips of the bookshelf ledge ten feet down onto my mother's bed.
• Developments of different perspectives after my illness; I became afraid to face the world.  [talking to people, doing laundry, recovery, sleeping/non sleeping, trusting.]  Small systems of dealing with large and small daily anxieties.  I transformed from an impulsive, moment-loving risk taker, to someone whose rigidity prevents her from having a cup of coffee with a friend if its not in her calendar.  Being afraid to face the day without the Right pens in hand.
• As children we embrace life and fear with excitement; as adults we develop ways to avoid these risks as if we will break our brittle psyches and bodies for the price of enjoying Life for one more moment.
• How perspective alters everything.  Sisyphus has more than one way to look at his ‘plight. ‘

16 february 2011````

On the Curiosities of ChangE

** 1 **

Tara I is zero cells old, but has a consciousness enough to converse and respond by means of thought. It is not a body yet, not a "she," not a few cells, not quite a corporeal human.  It floats in a nebulous space between unborn and born; in a limbo of existence, of purpose.

Tara II exists some 29 years after Tara I. She has had the rare opportunity to contact Tara I via traveling one night to that warm yet unfamiliar place between sleep and wake where music seems always to lull a room or two away, yet can never be located. This is the kind of travel where after "waking" one is exhausted, having earnestly traveled in some way, and being always unsure how, yet very sure that something happened.

[[Tara II thinks about something her father once said to her- "Before anything else there's just you; so be your best friend."  She is hopeful to ask Tara I about her wavering understanding of her artwork, and of its ideas revolving around futility and purpose, repetition and cadence and rhythm in a Lifepath, the things that join and separate people in terms of illness and difference. She finds herself never quite getting there consciously before she wakes.]]

Tara II: You know who I am right?
Tara I: Of course I know, I know a lot right now.  You won't know a fraction of what I know when you’re in the world.
Tara II: Oh. I believe that; but I still have the feeling I'm here to warn you of things, or give you advice or something.  Did you know you'd have a pretty good family?  Even though it starts out rocky, you'll be quite grateful after a while.
Tara I: No I never thought of that.  I never thought of the concept of a family. Hm. Do you love this family?
Tara II: I love a lot of people.  Including my family.  But anyway, can we talk about other things, less concrete things?  I think we're on a time limit.  Are you getting that feeling?
Tara I: Well until you visited I didn't realize there was a thing called Time.  Did you make that up? That thing?
Tara II: I'm not sure; I'm not sure of a lot of things I think I believe; Can you tell me more about what you think you know?
Tara I: I don't think.  I just am, and there's no need for explanation at this point.   Can't you just do?  Just be? Doing is the thing that gives you a purpose after all.  Thinking is very useful, but it gets mostly in the way if you don't implement it.
Tara II: But what about all the possible–
Tara I: Possible doesn't count.  If you worry or focus on the possible without actually doing the possible it’s pointless. Potential is nothing.
Tara II: Then you're nothing.
Tara I: Hm. No, because before you came and messed this up, I was fine just being.  I just went about following my intuition; I didn't worry about what coulD be. Don't you have an intuition?
Tara II: I lost it.  I mean, I forgot how to listen to it, or something.
Tara I: I’ll tell you what-- you get out of here, stop messing with my purpose, and stop messing with the simplicity and strength of my existence, and I'll give you another intuition.  If you lose it again you're on your own.
Tara II: You can do that? Just give me another intuition?
Tara I: Look, I can do anything here; there's not much to do though, as you can see. Don't you see how much more it is to have a human's life?
Tara II: Well, I,..
Tara I: Get out of here! You're ridiculous.  Just forget about me and remember to listen to the Rhythms.

** 2 **

Water is air is water is Nothing.  No-thing-ness occurs in large waters, or high up in a windless sky, and deep under the surface and light above the sea.  I close my eyes to flee the world; the sea closes my eyes for me, darkening my vision, my awareness, and growing quieter the deeper I go.  Coldness envelops my body gradually, then quickly; freezes my thought and the surface of my flesh. 

Refreshing, refreshing, refreshing cold, not numbing, but awakening into a clear clean dark Nothing.  It is safe under here, vast and still; vast with space beyond comprehension, an envelopment by freedom: no clutter. No pressure except that upon my ears and my head, weighing in heavily; pressing an imprint of me into this wide floating stillness.  Fluid textures of this forever-sea heave with constant motion and also gently rock and ebb within itself.  Yet it is unchanging here underneath, not part of the life and motion and transition above.

I smell the thin air filling my nostrils, drifting transiently, a lightweight, small, invisible dragon‘s Greatwings flutter in no particular direction around my temples and eyelids.  High up the air is cold and the area sprawls in all and no direction and the sky feels like vast thick comforting water.  This state of weight and simultaneous non-weight is of familiarity.  Apparently, I am briefly Home.

24 january 2011````

sometimes the best answer to a question is another question.

WhiteWalls, Part 01:

I see the sadness in the angry woman, large and taking control of every situation, especially the gossip among those who do talk in the ward during break and lunch.  I wonder what I look like, trying to read my books and doodling other worlds and their creatures, with eyes, scratched eyes; large unhealthy un-rested mucousy piercing eyes on half-faces of elves, fairies, dragons, sprites.

     I walk the halls too, like the boy, from the wired-sleepy-restlessness that cloaks my skin in its stickiness.  Sitting under the two payphones, I crouch with my knees folded and my arms limp on the linoleum white, except for the Rhythm in my fingers that will not stop, cannot stop, causing blister to re-bleed and crust up again.  Hoping, imagining that someone will call, anyone that I know— a friend, anyone in my family, but no one calls.  They are afraid.  Both parties are afraid from this sanitary labyrinth of white.

     It is fun when the television is on and I watch the terror outside this place as if it is a cartoon, because I am so removed from anything outside these walls.  It is fun when we are allowed to go to the rooftop and sit on the bench or watch people play basketball, people who have energy left after what we all consume at med-times.

     It is not fun when the day closes.   The isolation that was concealed during the day that was pretending to be absent with the twenty other people present now shows its murky face.  A hooded face; I know there are eyes looking and cheeks and nose and mouth, but there is nothing to touch or put substance to. This is the face of this structure enclosing us all.

     At night I feel the walls come alive and breathe in the toxins of our insanity.  During the day they breathe still, but through a mask that keeps the inhalations at bay; keeps the noises of its awareness at a level of accepted quiet. At night this world, the only one I know now, has a consciousness of its own.

     It is my first night here and I do not sleep, for many reasons.  The walls’ breathing is keeping me awake.  But I cannot tell the nurse that or she will give me a pill to forget everything, something I don’t want to do.  I glimpse a glint of moon reflecting off the fenced, barred window; its strange calm woos me into a comfort that I am unfamiliar with, and I like it.

22 january 2011````

the fetishization of books and the like:

what a long, dusted spine, my fingertips follow the nape of its carefully embossed title. how it bends to the touch and yet stays firm in format, stron yet delicate in its hand-bound volume. Once a pile of pages, a manuscript waiting, waiting. Now carefully found in its fruition as a book, a single Book among many, words of a mind or of one story, one that can bring history and glory to the minds of many, to the minds of future humanities.

Like the sea, the pages of a book envelop the reader; when i am immersed i am temporariliy a bookfish if you will. i grow the gills necessary to breathe only Book, smell only the salt of the Sea, the ink and dust and pressed pulp of the pages. And the content, the content. The tales, the histories, the images. the recorded thoughts of one person, a person who exists, or had existed in the world, our one world. And then the world becomes smaller. And i am more connected with it, with a human,

Like the synapses of a brain, the books of the world act as nodes, concentration points of information. What is it about the book that so many are loving, cherishing, treasuring as modernity plows its path through Time? Some treasure the smell, dust and ink and being handled or freshly printed; others the touch of a matte, soft smooth yellowing page. Others still appreciate the signs of age, the notes in a pre-owned volume, soone else's voice, another human's thoughts indrectly involved, and privately exchanged with the author's, and yours, the reader's.

What in essence are these all symbols of? One thing that keep resurfacing is the intimate and private connection with other humans, other minds and hearts. We are not reading words, mere words. We are listening. We are exchanging. The ideas ruses of another being have been thoughtfully recorded in order to connect with another, with many, with those who have not yet been born. We are hearing peppered bits of histories in the side notes and third-party thoughts of another who has also read the book, another layer of exchange scribbled into the margins.

The other representation i think of is that of Time. One of the most valuable things we offer to each other, to ourselves for that matter, is our time. And the toll that Time takes on cherished information. A pile of bound pages that changed our thinking just a little, moving only forward in growth and thought. So many things signal the passing of time, the aging of objects, of ourselves, our world. At the same time that the path of Time is a human construct, we can still feel it. Books are dying. Reading is a thing of the past - at least, offscreen/page-oriented reading. To feel the weight of carefully bound information in one's hands, there is something to say for that.

And why do i keep saying how 'carefully' books are created?, whether on a machine press or by a single hand-binder? Is it not only thoughtful to write words on the part of the author, but also of the reader investing her time into the information provided and organized? Do we not become more mindful, if only for a few moments, when we commit to holding and utilizing those pages for the purpose of which they were created? And i like to think that, for a few moments, hours or otherwise, that mindfulness and heightened reflection lasts and lingers after a book is loved, read, read again. How much the mind and heart can change then, the more we read and exchange with the thoughts of others; the more we take our time in a world and hundred pieces of stimuli -- from billboards to newspaper headlines to scrolling images and ads and words on a browser page -- pass, fly through our eyes daily, hourly; and the more we s-l-o-w ourselves down in order to feed the senses along with the mind, and listen with our eyes, our bodies, our histories in the making.

11 january 2011````

im a new biggest fan!:

http://penelope-music.com/lyrics/#/audiovideo

http://penelope-music.com/lyrics/#/lyrics

6 january````

>> my fiancee ed and i got into a discussion of how it would be helpful for each of us to grow, personally and professionally, if we educated ourselves in each others' specializations. [[that word - 'specialization' which i do not like, in terms of education and fields of profession in the modern world, is an entirely other post! ]]

so from now on i will post my Letters To Ed here. just as ed has generously and patiently introduced me to what he is knowledgable in and is always learning, he asked me to begin to introduce and teach [as best i can at my level!] mine to him. in this way both of our growth in the world will be less tunnel-visioned and approached with deeper understanding..ideally! The act of writing these out will of course also help solidify my minimal understandings.

Ed's are: the sciences and their progresses, political workings of our current and past world, history, writing, climate change and the environment, to name the main ones. Mine for now are visual art, writing, [ameteur readings in] psychology <<

LETTERS TO ED #01:

MAYA LIN-- Best known for her Vietnam War Memorial, created in 1982, Lin combines art with architecture, utilizing the power that a space, an environment, can have over a human body walking through it. Think about it--what happens to your body and thus your mind and emotions, when you walk through the Looming Gray Skies of NYC? what else happens then, when you move that same body through a vast open and unobstructed plane of grass and sun, only free free free space?

think also of how ancients and contemporary architects alike, any architectural reflection of any culture, are acutely aware of the ways that walls and buildings are structured affects us deeply, subconsciously?

remember Hagia Sophia, a famous basilica/mosque/[now a museum] in Istanbul that we learned about in art history classes? the reason it has such an effect on peoples' hearts and heads is bc of its distinct structure.

the domes are tall tall tall 'as the heavens,' unreachable, unfathomable, always above our daily reality, and a place to ascend to, as God should be viewed [according to that design] yet the tiny windows built ever so carefully waaay up in the highest of domes let light leak in. Glorious light, not to be feared fully, but also to be inspired by, drop by tiny droplet, a taste of and a glimpse only, of what we can attain if we [or the people who entered the structure daily at least] continue to follow God. all of this psychological weight is conveyed in one split second as one walks through the walls of hagia sophia.

Hagia Sophia:

Back to Maya Lin. She is very aware of how structure affects our being. so to commemorate the Vietnam War fallen soldiers, she created a long, low, simple 'barely-structure' -- it does not stick out in a loud voice at all. it is soft, subtle, built right into the terrain, using the grass as its shelter and swooping gently into and out of the Earth, just as the soldiers do in their burial, and in their memory. very subtle, yet very strong, just as their courage and their existence and their passing is remembered. whether or not you think this is cheesy, these are the things we may feel when we walk through this structure!

and to inspire the living, while also recognizing the reality of the cycles of life and death, she builds it just at the height of the hill, bringing one simple cornered-wall that makes up its entirety, underneath the grass, alluding clearly to that cycle. to commemorate each soldier, she lists their names--no ephemeral symbols, only their identities one by one, all the same size and font, all of whom gave their best efforts as much as the next soldier. their names are listed in the order in which each fell, a poignant way to respect their time in the war, their time on Earth, and to also allude to the essential role of Time in the world of a human.

Vietnam War Memorial:

A more recent work, also utilizing the strength of broad and stretching open space, is Wave Field, created for multiple sites in the 2000's, made only of Earth and grass, at 240000 sq ft. it moves me not only bc it commemorates fallen victims, but bc at the same time that it invokes heavy ideas of death and buried Life, gentlenes and fragility [of life and a human's emotional and psychological existence], it also cannot help but make one walking through it feel its playfulness and Heart. there are living, 'moving' waves in the grass! what a synesthesia of the elements of the Earth, our Life-Giver. while waves should be only in moving waters, here they are in seemingly inert grass, in a place where life is happening constantly; we just have to be patient, and look carefully.

Wave Field:

"Out of tragedy and loss can come life and celebration"

If you are not yet convinced of the relevance of artwork! if you ever walk through these works and still do not feel the wegiht and poignancy that they can have, then, at least many others do daily when visiting these sites, and these insights of Life/death/Time/humans, these things we know all the time yet always need reminding of, are spread like a web person by person, life by Life.

1 january````

To objects and their life-stories, to Humans' resiliences, and to every worn-town-written page of a loved book~

26 december````

Only the snow knows~

21 december````

Last few days to Vote for Me Please! Click on the 5th Star in the upper-right-corner! Thank you!!!! :

http://www.3rdwardopencall.com/countingtara

20 december````

In response to a post about being atheist vs believing in God: http://blogs.wsj.com

[i may be a hypocrite but ill say it anyway!]

Using rationale, reason, logic and honesty, and also science and factual information, is essential to growing as a human. but using it alone without any food for the spirit, well i dont know about that. you dont have to believe in a god to do that. then again Faith and belief can be two different things.

mythological and scientific roots apparently were once symbiotic. today they are opposites. people--both very religious people and very un-religious ones, seem to depend way too much on trusting in reason. why not, right? we benefited greatly, historically, from the enlightenment era. but now we trust mostlY in reason, fact, physical Proof. and we seem to not trust our heart or spirit anymore.

we need facts to ProvE that we have mass and laws of gravity to prove we have weight. or cannot fly. and we tend to take to those facts to also decide on our spiritual health. we need Facts to tell us what to believe-- instead of both using facts, AND also trusting an intuition we all were born with.

i dont see anything wrong with being an atheist, or being religious, or agnostic, at all! but once people begin to impose their ideas upon others, that causes a divide. and, as the tone in the writing says to me, once people begin to become angry at the lack of proof, that signals to me that people on all sides are often using the same tools of reason to argue further into that divide, rather than have empathy or compassion for each other.

life is too short and too rich to try to be more correct than another or feed the divides in any way after some time.

16 december````

bis repetita placent! -- the things, that are repeated, are pleasent --

26 november````

D I S T R A I T :

dis.strait adj.

Inattentive or preoccupied, especially becuase of anxiety [[or fear]].

ETYMOLOGY

Old French: destrait, past participle of detraire [modern distraire], from Latin distrahere ["distract"].

ANAGRAMS

dartitis-- A nervous condition which prevents a darts player from releasing the dart at the optimum moment.

15 november````

beneath our consciousness we are all Blood, Sinew, Bone, Synapses. 

9 november````

it's a shame: who said art and science are so separate and unrelated? or should be looked at as isolated and separate categories? i would rather ask leonardo da vinci!

www.examiner.com

5-7 november````

Artist Books Included at UPCOMING BOOKFAIR:

The NY ART BOOK FAIR at MoMA PS1

5-7 November 2010

http://icpbardmfa.wordpress.com

http://ps1.org/calendar/view/257

Image courtesy Arielle Bier and Michelle Leedy

NEWS: october````

>OPENING RECPETION UPCOMING: on 28 october 6-8p

http://www.littletundra.org/

>>CLOSING RECEPTION-- LAST DAYS of EXHIBITION!!: 27 october 2010 5-8p

http://www.naturewithinexhibit.com/

>RADIO INTERVIEW! after 15 october reception from 9-10p,

On 89.9 FM WKCR with Jennifer McAdoo; archived audio will be on Nature Within website: http://www.naturewithinexhibit.com/

>OPENING RECEPTION: 15 october 2010 6-9p

http://www.naturewithinexhibit.com/

UPCOMING: 9 and 11 october 2010````

"RE:FORM SCHOOL is a high profile group art exhibition, event series and public awareness campaign taking place in New York City, that brings together the creative community in a call for the reform of the American Public Education System.

We believe that it is the right of each and every child in the United States to have access to a high quality education.
We believe every child should be allowed the opportunity to shine and thrive. They should feel safe, challenged and excited to learn. They should be encouraged to bring creativity, imagination and innovation into our future.

Throughout history artists have lent their creative expression to issues of culture & politics. They combine innovation with art’s greatest strength – the ability to transcend boundaries and make an impact, while not relying solely on language. We would like to invite you to join together with many of today’s top contemporary artists, hundreds of volunteers, sponsors and grass roots organizers to send a loud message that the time has come to fix our ailing public school system.

RE:FORM SCHOOL is a REDUproject. REDUstands for rethinking, reforming and rebuilding US education. Powered by people and technology, REDU is a movement designed to expand and encourage the national conversation around education reform by providing information and resources to learn, a community platform to connect, and the tools to act. Get involved at letsredu.com.

RE:FORM SCHOOL will be open to the public, Saturday, October 9th, 2010 through Monday, October 11th, 2010 between the hours of 10:00 AM – 6:00 PM and is located at 233 Mott Street, New York City, NY 10012."

http://reformschool.letsredu.com/about

24 september 2010````

i LOVE new york. onLy in NY.

23 september 2010````

was a part of Brooklyn Fireproof Film Festival on 18 Sept! Happy BDAY mom! INDECISIVE MOMENT / PULP LEGEND:: http://www.pulplegend.com/home.html

7 september 2010````

featured on discover magazines blog, and on gizmodo [but its not slides, its s!! and also on pattindica blog:

http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/visualscience/2010/09/03/blood-of-tree-blood-of-me/

http://www.gizmodo.com.au/2010/09/what-is-this-70/

http://pattindica.wordpress.com/2010/09/07/fotografia-sangue-verde-por-tara-cronin/

17 august 2010````

all human only human~

it is a human characteristic to be aware of contrasts- is it? that contrasts reflect transition and change- and that these things signify a truth. and that we are interested in truth at all.

08 august 2010````

- LIFE!! why not! action perpetuates action~

02 august 2010````

- I remember the smell of chlorophyll things, alive things, and a constant film over the day of that drone of nearby cicadas.  I remember the taste of salt on my lips and stinging my nostrils when I would float underwater as long as possible and flip endlessly, in the sea.  Water is air is water is Nothing.  I still do this thing, I try and try to mimic that non-state of stillness, nothingness, Home.

- I remember I would always win at hide-and-seek because I hid on top of the refrigerator, and no one ever looks up.

- I remember the almost briny and sterile smell of the first place. How it rose up, a cold mist from a sewer in the brightmoon nights that I lay awake, watching the ceiling turn.

- I remember sleeping on the highest part of the roof, feeling safe and not knowing that was why I did that all summer.

21 july 2010````

shortlist of summerthingS

- rhythms and cadences: droning through hair/ cracking the dusk / floating through eyelids / washing up on shore / waking vast sleeping grasses

- eyes: furled in sunny brows / closed in future dreams / closed for distant pasts / closed to let lidveins rest / closed to sleeeep in the dark and chlorophyllic

- airs: calm and thick and cool and erratic / leaving close waters for the tundra

- musics: solid silence

16 july 2010````

no one ever grows up; they just grow::::

16 july 2010````

Blood[+] Works on Rebecca Horne's Blog; Photo Director for Discover Magazine!

http://rebeccahorne.blogspot.com/

7 july 2010````

terrible waters in the head make terrible storms from reality fled

we are lost always. whats funny is that when i am peace with this, i call it Life, Living, Searching, Growing.  when i cannot accept this Constant of Lost, i call it lost, Only Lost.  But no matter what i am Always lost. Lost is Life. Lost is room to go and find and move and grow.

20 june 2010````

the shortlist of lists for now

- the list of locations of golden drawers

- the list of stains in the heart

- the list of if's and why not's

- the list of saved cracked teapots.

19 june 2010````

A
Animal/Creature/Man- life of, routine of, blood of, meaning for/of, differences between, connections between;

Above- the world of motion; the routine world; the things that move and grow and change; still winds, still heights, still self, still;  we cannot be still as much a we try;

Apogee- of life; of a lifetime; is there one? Are there any?  Of humanity; of a day; of a daily anatomic cycle;

B
Below- the world of motion; the routine world; the things that move and grow and change; surrounded by thickness of water and loud silence and pressure; stillness; [see Above]

Birth- the first seemingly still months before; stillness in water; water is air is breath is stillness is silence;

Balance- in Rhythms;  in visual states; off kilter balances such as Four, Three, Two Plus One; in inner states; constant attempt to find, while always moving, changing, growing; water in a container in constant motion, finding balance while adapting to the shape and angle;

Blood- fascination with; peace in; beauty or appreciation in; thrilling nature of; thriving though us coursing through veins; moving Life forward without question without obstacle without fear; life-giver, life-propeller; life-symbol; simplified symbol; easy symbols, symbols with judgments;

Buoy- a safety that is not a safety; prevents the sinking into silence and peace underneath; prevents the letting go of rigidities;

C
Collecting- hoarding, difference between;

Chaos/Order- [See Balance]- constant balancing between, overlapping of; fractal patterns in life, in blood-veins, in growth patterns of the psyche; in all things life, resembling simply and relating complexly;

Change- aversion to; constant battle with; acceptance of; embracing of;

Chance- relation to and causes of change; impulsivity;

Curiosity- propelling one forward; propelling one backward;

Climbing; high up, Above; [see Above]

D
Death- curiosity in; measurement of; sadness of the after; not mine but of all loved ones;

Discovery- of new, of old/new, of sensory new, of new ways to be above and below Change;

Distance- from the World of Change; from the world that is Change; from other humans; from the self; from the Present; from the immediate; from Now; from Thens; from motion; from the voice coming out of my mouth; from the thoughts and actions and movements that seem to be mine; from my mother; from everybodyEverything; from time that is happening always;

Danger- false yet realistic sense of; creation of; clouded view of; excitement from;

12 june 2010````

                    ---BLOOMSDAY 2010 GROUP EXHIBITION/READING/EVENT!---

James Joyce's Ulysses
Exhibition, Projection, Reading
25CPW June 16 from 6-10pm
25 Central Park West, New York, NY (at the corner of
W 62nd Street)
http://www.25cpw.org/

The exhibition, projection, and reading will be held in the downstairs gallery.
The projection will run from 6-7pm. Readings will begin at 7:15.
This event is open to the public.

31 may 2010````

- "online privacy" is an oxymoron. doesnt make sense, and it shouldnt really be expected.

- there is something very comforting in: lists, sublists, new things, found things [that are Old and then seem new [[[ like a photograph or a greaT pen ]]] ], attempting to own my punctuation while note-taking, the power of punctuation to Prioritize, and counting.

- Seven/7/1+6/3&4/16-9/63 divided by 9/7x1/ is nice today; 4 is nice always.

- the [not so clear] difference between writing to read it and writing to expel it.

- the relationship betwen fear, anxiety, laziness, and paralysis.

---a round thought//a lightweight eye//a prickly pinky-promise//a sweet egg//a worried hand//an unlucky smile//a blurry story//a laugh in summer//a green apple with dark chocolate and basils//frantic feet//loose ears.

- cobolt blue, the red of that shirt.

[[belated for 28 APRIL!!:]

a Belated THANK YOU to all who made it out on Thursday!!!!

installation views:

23 may 2010````

17 may 2010````

i ekil stnedicca.
yletanutrofnu i ekil selur erom.
evi tog ot evah a retteb metsys.

10 may 2010````

Salt. 

Heavy, hail-sized crystals of salt crusted above on the shores; I am deep below, still and safe though seawaters move around my body, a mass I cannot discern from the vastness now. Vines and seawater and grasses thrashing growing as they stay rooted growing out and up and across, thrashing around surrounding me.

I breathe.

I am becoming the water I am a creature of the earth of the sky and of the sea of all things still and with pressure that muffles ears into heavy silence.  I am a creature of this earth-sea I thrash and thrive with its Life; now we are one sprawling entity of sea, salt, chlorophyll, meshed veins, meshed vines, meshed blood, meshed water-waves.  I am lost in a sea of water-air that has no end. 

It is a good lost; the kind that I never want to be found from here.  Simmering whites of water waves; filling my non-ears melding with my non-tears hot and irritating and yet running in place, a vast space to be still, weightless, water, air, free.

14 april 2010````

I am the hunter; i hunt futilities in Time.

but after all, isnt Life to be teetering always on the cusp of futility? isnt that moment when i free myself of the un-balance, the moment i can forget and be free?

>>>>>>>Thank you all for coming out; your visits are very much appreciated :D :D :D :D

9 april 2010````

TONIGHT!!!!

ICP-BARD MFA THESIS GROUP SHOW upcominG!!

2010 ICP-Bard MFA Thesis Group Exhibition                           On View: 9 April--23 May

OPENING RECEPTION: Friday 9 April, 7:00-9:00p;                      Alumni Reunion Toast: 8p

School of the International Center of Photography                                   1114 Ave of the Americas at 43rd St

icp.org

CommentS!

30 march 2010````

ICP-BARD MFA THESIS GROUP SHOW upcominG!!

2010 ICP-Bard MFA Thesis Group Exhibition                           On View: 9 April--23 May

OPENING RECEPTION: Friday 9 April, 7:00-9:00p;                      Alumni Reunion Toast: 8p

School of the International Center of Photography                                   1114 Ave of the Americas at 43rd St

icp.org

17 march 2010````

sometimes hellos are just as sad as goodbyes.

05 march 2010````

just for the record i hate 5. but today happens to be a day to write anyway. besides, its the 6th in other parts of the world. pheW.

there are places we know that are part of what we call Home. not always physical places, but places we are certainly familiar with. that we have memories of, that yet, we know are not part of our current file of experiences.

we all have visited these Places; they surround our daily lives, daily environments, daily psyches. these are Places that could be long ago, could be still standing and yet have never quite existed.

i am searching. if i walked through such a place that is here and yet nowhere, that is familiar nonetheless, i would feel at Home. i would find that place that, in the end, has been with me the entire time, and that i will also never truly find.

02 march 2010````

i was talking to my friend about the strange disconnect we see happen on sites based on interchangeability and 'response' - when a response is nothing more than a 'like comment' or a 'post' that just floats in time and cyberspace [that was really fun to use that word!]

it seems at first that these sites- facebook, twitter, what have you. are in the end creating 'nothings' of empty exchanges- they become small exchanges that mean nothing in comparison to honest and real human exchange. people post a 'like' or a 'join a group' and feel they are connecting while they dont even talk to each other or see each others face.

but, they arE connecting. ! why take internet exchanges so seriously- of thesE particular sites? the very nature of these interchangeability-reliant sites Are to be taken lightly i think; they are structured in the same way we have Small Talk. which does not ever make meaningful talk--

--but doeS make meaningful exchange, and connection. in that these small and seemingly pointless exchanges keep people in contact with each other on the surface level- that is needeD for deeper connection. from there we gain various levels of connection- just knowing someone is paying attention to your 'posts' and what youre up to, to opportunities for further talk and more truly meaningful connnection via email or meeting in person. and what about that feeling of connection we get when someone doeS reply with a 'like' or a comment? that is a sort of reassurance that people wanT to interact in this strange non-space.

the internet is not quite Devaluing how we exchange- it is more highlighting the strange natiure of the Range of human exchange that already exists in various forms. arent the people we keep in these Light contacts with, the same people we might never have kept in contact in the first place, since we dont see them in person or live near them, etc? isnt it a nicer thing to keep in minor contact with people we rarely see anyway, opening opportunities for more exchange, than keep in only intense contact with very few people, but closing off other opportunities alltogether?

27 feb 2010````

i never understand why it matters. and why despite this discord between reality and awareness, i tolerate it and celebrate it every day.

23 feb 2010````

its funny how one day we wake up in an adults body, with a longer history than the last you checked; and yet no matter how large and aged our bodies get we are always so very small at times.

17 feb 2010````

anxiety abounds in places and times of life that, no matter how often quelled, will never quite find balance in the same way as the reliability of a single hour or half-day. however somehow, i always make it out alive. how petty our inner monologues can be!

things are never quite as epic as i envision them. still, in underlying waves i feel the rush of life beneath me, within my tiny capsules of flesh-cells, coasting in pools of vitreous humor, and through the repeating fractal carriers of long quiet journies that are my veins.

13 feb 2010````

its my favorite when things are ok after they werent; before theyre not again, until again, they are.

08 feb 2010````

its odd how people congregate to a space and then ignore each other. lifelifelifelife. If we all knew why we were doing this, and knew the Point, i suppose it wouldnt be Life. i still wake up and ask myself each morning, what is this thinG?

words i hate today:

- glossy; fresh; marbled; nothing

words i am liking today:

- why; never; everything; finally

it may change tomorrow, everything always does.

02 feb 2010````

- I remember climbing the tallest tree in our yard every day, a towering pine that my mother cut off the first few branches of, trying to prevent me from making it to the top and possibly falling. I would be still and the world was at a distance and neither of us was in motion, transition, or anything that grew toward change.

27 jan 2010````

"We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.”

22 jan 2010````

PLEASE VOTE for ME: http://www.artistswanted.org/tcronin1981

19 jan 2010````

strange; here i to speak to no one and everyone; the things we find ourselves saying.

today. today is gray and grey with soft light and perfect cool air, and i am alive with others, and that is a grateful thing always.