Fredericka Foster’s “The Value of Water”

Artist Fredericka Foster curated an epic art show called “THE VALUE OF WATER”, whose scale, featuring forty artists (including breathtaking video by Bill Viola, luminous and controversial installations by Kiki Smith, Winn Rea and Janet Nolan and several paintings by the late Mark Rothko) challenges its epic venue at St. John the Divine (the largest cathedral in the world) right here on our own 112th Street in New York City.
“THE VALUE OF WATER” is currently open to the public at St John the Divine, New York City, until the show closes on March 25, 2012.

To see photographs of the show, click here. 

For more info about Fredericka Foster, check out her website at thinkaboutwater.com

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Happy New Year!

2012: The Year of Enlightenment

The end is nigh…. at least the end of the Mayan calendar. Although many feared Nostradamus’ prediction of the world ending this year, I personally think the Mayans just got tired of making calendars.  Maybe the calendar-makers were on strike? Maybe they were carving the calendars into stone and they just got tired!

Heavenly Embrace

sunflower in Mass

I am writing this from the heavenly embrace of a rocker on my friend Robin’s porch, looking out over luminous, late-summer fields of Amherst, Mass.

I am working hard and tapping pretty deeply into something sweet which has a clear voice, encouraged and nurtured by the amazing goddesses of the Valley; bountiful, beautiful energy. Before that, I’d retreated for a week of solitude in Brooklyn, which required saying “no” more than I ever have in my whole life put together.  The rewards were plentifold.

One thing seems certain, and that is that feelings can not be relied upon; they change constantly. I learned this while living on hundred-acre Tree Toad Farm, on a dirt road, alone, for a month in the winter. It was the most silence and solitude I’ve ever experiencd, in every way. Trippy. Amazing learning experience, to witness my brain – !

And, scary as the unknown under the bed, it is this silent solitude that houses sweet creativity – dripping at first, like early nectar, then flowing, uncoaxed, into the sacred emptiness. Nature abhors a vacuum, you know.  So fear not the abyss of the unknown, because, as T.S. Eliot put it, “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

the Happy Valley