{east art studio tour}

there are moments when i am completely in love with the city where i live. this past weekend was one of those times for me. i had been looking forward to the E.A.S.T tour and i had a few hours to myself on sunday to map out a direction in which to walk.

this tour has grown tremendously over the years, now with over 150 individual artists represented. i wanted to see as much as i could on foot {with my camera to my eye and my heart open to the experience} everyone takes from it what they want. and what i wanted was to absorb as much of the environment {and the day} as i did of the artist and studio spaces. you can walk with me, if you are so inclined to see what i saw last sunday over the course of three hours on the east side of austin.

i went it alone, because i’ve learned how to be alone and i do so often enjoy the silence of the solo experience. i began at Domy Bookstore, drooled over their selection of books and took in the small art exhibit they had up as well. from there my first stop was the Birdhouse Gallery, a beautiful space on Cesar Chavez. an old home with glass doorknobs turned gallery, a one woman show that day by Cherie Weaver. it was full of sensory loveliness and a great place for me to start my walk and talk one on one with an amazing artist.

onward, i headed west to Fisterra Studio, another beautiful (lived in and fully functioning) home with an amazing collection of art by Jennifer Chenoweth, Virginia Fleck, photography by Jeff Stockton, Wells Mason, and articulture designs by Monique Capanelli. peeking into Jennifer’s art studio in the backyard was the highlight for me. the above photo is through the window of her studio. seeing works in progress and behind the scenes of creativity is always a favorite of mine.

stopping at the HOPE farmer’s market (held every sunday) was a nice break to sit and rest and snack and hear some live music. then i took my time absorbing the art from so many artists over at Pine Street Station and Glassworks Studio {too many to name}

after a stop by Progress Coffee i popped in Austin Conservatory of Professional Artists and then made my way up and over east sixth street, taking in the scenery along my way to East Austin Gallery and JuJu Photo Factory before stopping for a chai tea latte at Hot Mama’s. from there i took in all the love from art and photography exhibits through the One Love Gallery near the Pedernales Lofts. i ended my tour with Hoop Church Sundays, a tarot card reader, and some live music. it was the perfect ending to a perfect day.

E.A.S.T continues this weekend as well {Nov 21/22} and i encourage any of you local austinites out there to take a walk or bike ride to see some amazing creations. my next weekend is full but i will be making one last stop at the Pump Project Gallery to share with river a space containing artwork from over 23 local artists.

to view my slideshow, pop over here!

ready set go!

laughter bounces in darkness.

join me at shutter sisters today for a bit of flash photography.

you and i now

there is something about live music, something about it that simply fills me. last night i had the pleasure of being awash in stage light with a chorus of voice and horn.

at one point towards the end of the set, there was a stage full of twelve men. standing in a single row stretching from stage end to end. dancing smiling singing with wild abandon. seeing such joy, seeing a tribe of men experiencing such love, was exactly what i needed to see. this {seeing someone create music love joy} helps me be a better person. i’m not sure how else to explain it. but i come away from each experience feeling like this whole human race is stitched together with a thread of melody.

last night they shared with us the very first song they ever wrote. and forever now it will remind me of this photo. the feeling grasped between hands held tight, spread beneath earth and sky. it’s you and i now.

She sits him down in a stiff chair
Rubs his back and strokes his hair
Telling him it’s okay to cry
But he just sits and stares
The merciless moon outside
Has nothing now he’s come to realise
Only the desolation he feels
The cold distance inside

But you and I now
We can be alright
Just hold on to what we know is true

things* that go bump in the night

strangely nighttime has a cloak of comfort. a shield from the harshness that bright sunlight glares into nakedness. the truth is that reality (the scary shit) happens in the middle of the afternoon. 3pm on a monday. with one ear pressed to the phone you realize you are a grown up.

yes, right now.
the phone is ringing.

but that’s not the scary part. it’s hearing the voice of your father, scared. hearing him unsure, unsteady, unable to go it alone one more step without someone right there beside him. years of superhero powers kept us distant, but over this past year he has become entirely beautifully human to me. it’s painful for him to admit his humanness. but i receive it with two cupped hands holding something so sacred i dare not spill a single drop. i’m thankful that it’s me on the other end of the line. it’s heavy but i’m strong. i’m glad we go through it together. he’s asking questions and i’m providing answers that i hate: we are mid-stage dementia, obsessive compulsive behavior is all part of it, soon she’ll be mute, there won’t be any more anger because she’s declining so rapidly, you need to keep a list of emergency contacts in your wallet and call me anytime you need.

life in reverse.
father the child.
mother the father.
life is weird.

things that go bump in the night are most often not *things* but voices, eyes, smiles all familiar but placed in a reality so cruel you render them strangers. she tells me, in broad day light, that it’s 1973. her face is screwed up with confusion, she knows it can’t be… does she? she’s in a place in her head before i was born and yet here i am on a computer screen face to face with her. “it’s 1973″ she says and i want to beat my fists into my eye sockets as i smile and say “ok.”

she’s there but she’s not there.

the darkness has a comfort of blur and solitude and sleepy children riding in cars with sunroofs open and crickets chirping and music playing. life is easier in the dark, when all things ordinary become extraordinarily beautiful.