Showing posts with label january. Show all posts
Showing posts with label january. Show all posts

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Rauschenberg Runts


Rauschenberg Runts
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

January 10, 2008, New York City:

Ten of the photos in this set were taken of the crowd at the new Robert Rauschenberg Runts exhibition on opening night at Pace Wildenstein.

I kept hearing everyone asking, “Are these paintings?” Amazingly, they really do look like photographs.

“The paintings Runts on exhibit each measure approximately 5' x 6' and are the smallest works the artist has produced in many years. These channel surfing montages are assembled from Rauschenberg’s archive of photographs, which he then transfers onto polylaminate synthetic material mounted on aluminum panels. Runts represents a decades-long involvement in transfer images that began over 50 years ago transferring the medium of photography into painting.”

And yes, Jessie, he was there; he’s still alive, in a wheelchair, but after 60 years of shows and hundreds of solo exhibits, he's still quite alive…

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Looking In


Looking In
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

It is the first day back at work of the New Year
and all day long I’ve been looking out the window.

I can’t help but notice that the sky is the limit out there.
Whereas, here inside there’s a pretty short ceiling;
If I get on my ergonomic chair and stretch, I can touch it.

These chairs are designed to keep us comfortable,
they say—to prevent debilitating back and wrist injuries;
I say, they’re so we stay in our chairs longer.

I know I can’t complain, and I’m not, but I am realizing
that, if I’m lucky I have another 40 years of life to live,
and I’m just not sure I want to spend the next 25 of them stuck
under a short ceiling. Actually, I'm sure I don’t.

Yes, I understand a ceiling means shelter, it means safety
and it means security. But it also means less fervor, less fresh air,
and less freedom to do and roam where I want, whenever I want to.

I think I’ve just realized my first New Year’s resolution—
to make a change, so that for the next 25 years I don’t spend my days
simply looking out windows.

I want to look in a little more often.


*

Excerpted from Courage, the Joy of living dangerously by Osho:

But would you like to remain always in your mother's womb? It is very protective. If it was given to you to choose, would you choose always to be in the mother's womb? It is very comfortable, what more comfort is possible? Scientists say that we have no yet been able to make a situation more comfortable than the womb. The womb seems to be the last, the ultimate in comfort. So comfortable—no anxiety, no problem, no need to work. Sheer existence. And everything is supplied automatically—the need arises and immediately is supplied. There is not even the trouble of breathing—the mother breathes for the child. There is no bother about food—the mother eats for the child.

But would you like to remain in the mother's womb? It is comfortable but it is not life. Life is always in the wild. Life is there—outside.

The English word “ecstasy” is very, very significant. It means to stand out. Ecstasy means to get out—out of all shells and all protections and all egos and all comforts, all deathlike walls. To be ecstatic means to get out, to be free, to be moving, to be a process, to be vulnerable, so that winds can come and pass through you.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Celebrating 10 Years of Body & Soul


Celebrating 10 Years of Body & Soul
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

10 Years of Body&Soul
January 18, 2007, New York City:


This photo of my friend John Davis and I, was taken by the always-so-fab gilllianleigh (gill-darling to me), otherwise known as gill-a-licious. John is the impresario of the famous Body&Soul entertainment group.

Gill has just posted some wonderful photos of the party we went to this last weekend at Pacha, celebrating Body & Soul's 10th Anniversary—3,000 revelers were in attendance. It was nuts! Check them out!

Body & Soul's 10th Anniversary Party at Pacha