art
The best relationship art depicts the highs and lows of the authentic couple.
With Cotton, Christopher Martin Tells a Story of Race in America
As a tattoo and textile artist, Christopher Martin is importantly guided by the tradition of folk art. His reverence for text, appreciation for the history of his material and careful collection of imagery are powerful reminders of how folk and outsider art traditions can be reinvented for new generations, new eras. Martin’s work is the stark, blunt immediacy that challenges the weight of our world with naked solidarity.
By Christopher Martin5 years ago in Humans
ReWilding Curiosity on Canvas
Not a word of exaggeration, I am totally in love with what happens in the studio. That first slicing of the plastic and squawking of the tape as I mask off an area in the studio for our day long foray into a specific kind of wildness? Oh, now I love that series of rituals as they conjure a beginning of playfulness any adult would crave. A subtle smile begins to curve on my mouth as I trace my fingertips over the roll of canvas, its toothy and tentatively yielding integrity peels away under the robust blades of my best scissors. The crisp lines of its edges are then stretched into a new threshold of straightness as the linen is pulled over the stretcher frame and stapled with a confident “bam.” It's otherwise a quiet room this time with the house cat watching this minor transformation take place from a safe distance. The staple gun powerfully punctuated the room that always starts off clean- and for the time being- remains open and unassuming of the fun we will get into.
By Aeryana Castley5 years ago in Humans
When I Cut Into the World, I Speak Back
As a youth, mixing globs of paint with a paintbrush allowed me to create the palette of color I needed to imitate the world of color around me. My kindergartener's point of view worried about getting it right- I needed the correct hues for the tops of trees, the stems of flowers, and importantly, reptile skin (to make sure a friend could do justice to the new crime-fighting, pizza- devouring, sewer-living, teen-age mutant ninja turtles t-shirt he had convinced his parent’s to buy him over the weekend).
By Fergie Lopez5 years ago in Humans
Why am I a Jewelry Artist
When I was about 14 or 15 years old, my sister gave me a Christmas present consisting of a bunch of jewelry making supplies that she had bought for herself, but never used. I was so excited to try my hand at this new world of creativity. There were beads, charms, pendants, jump rings, head pins, eye pins, chain, clasps, wire, chord, pliers, and a pair of wire cutters. That day, I sat down and created multiple necklaces, earrings and bracelets using just about every single thing she had given me. Now, most of what I created wasn’t very good and I have since taken apart most of the necklaces and such to create new things, but that day, I believed I had created veritable masterpieces.
By Keturah Goldsberry 5 years ago in Humans
Red Mittens
Of the more than 3,000 islands off the Maine coast, only 15 are both inhabited year round and unbridged. Many of these islands, accessible only by boat or aircraft, serve as summer enclaves to wealthy Floridians and New Yorkers who alight on their magnificent houses for a few weeks each summer before taking off again, leaving behind the small communities that keep the islands running through long winters and cold springs. At least that’s the case on this island, where I moved a few years ago after getting a job at the local Post Office.
By Hilary Clark5 years ago in Humans
Lighten Up
When times are tough, look for a glimmer of light in the darkness. In other words: buckle down, keep your chin up and make sure your eyes are wide open. If you look hard enough, the saying goes, you’ll eventually see a sliver of hope cutting through the blackness.
By Maya Sloan 5 years ago in Humans
Costumes of My Heart
When I was eight years old, I got my first sewing machine. Within a few weeks, every doll in my room had a new costume. My fashion dolls became representatives of many countries around the world. My baby dolls were ballerinas. The ragdolls were no longer dressed in rags. When I ran out of dolls to dress, our cats became the next, albeit unwilling recipients of my newfound love of costuming. I of course sewed other things as well, but my heart always returned to making costumes.
By Heather Smith5 years ago in Humans
Let them eat cake!
On a particularly sunny afternoon, I found myself sitting across from my mother at a vaccination site. We weren’t scheduled to be there together, but the universe in its infinite wisdom made it so we were. As we sat amongst others in the bustling waiting area, I took a look around as a moment of silence approached us.
By Nicole V Scott5 years ago in Humans
Struggle and Vision
Being the sculptor of ceramic pieces endows the artist with a unique sense of power. Whatever comes from our hands has the ability to transcend time. The time our bodies, and the bodies of those we love, and the bodies of those we will love, are allowed. It’s a responsibility that few get to experience — creating something that has the potential energy to be seen and studied as a touchstone of present-day culture.
By Allie Alcala5 years ago in Humans
Needle and Thread
Over 15 years ago, I was signed up (against my will) for a cross stitch needlepoint class that took place directly after Chinese school ended. Much to my dismay, I, a Cantonese/Vietnamese child, was in way over my head when I stepped into that class when the teacher could not speak any of the languages I knew. She spoke Mandarin with very limited English, and we could not communicate. She recruited one of the students she knew to act as our translator, and we became fast friends. The first few translations, however made it very clear how unprepared I was for this class. My mom gave me needles but I was empty handed when asked where my thread, cross stich fabric and stencils were. I was mortified. I am as introverted as one can be and being the only one that could not communicate with my teacher while she is telling me how bad my cross-stitching was did not help. The next week, my mom takes me to get all the materials I needed, and I still did not get the right colours of thread, my needles were too large for the cross-stitch fabric, I forgot to bring scissors, the list goes on. My teacher eventually gave up on trying to teach me directly as my translator friend and I would quietly do our craft until the bell rang. Who knew this extracurricular I reluctantly joined would result in a newfound love for sewing and embroidery?
By Jackie Nguyen5 years ago in Humans
