Thursday, February 5, 2009

Can You Dig It?!

So, I started this blog to talk about art. Today, I decided it was finally time to get to it. In a section I've entitled "Can You Dig it" (Taken from the movie The Warriors), I'm going to present some art work that I find interesting.

First, I'm going to show some work from Mark Jenkins: Street Installations.

What I like most about street art in general is it's rebellious in-your-face attitude. Another very important aspect is that these people make these works for Art's sake and nothing else. It's probably frustrating knowing that one's work will only last a couple of days or even a couple of hours, but fear and cowardice are more frustrating--I am sure.

I like Mark Jenkins because I have personally seen some of his work around the DC area. His sculptures made from tape are amazing. What I like most is how the sculpture engages its environment. Jenkins acts as if the world is his canvas.

Next, I am going to present a piece from one of my favorite poets, Patrick Rosal.
An Essay On Misri
"A certain gal in this old town
Keeps draggin' my poor heart around
All I see, for me is – misery"
—Harold Arlen

Misri says she is water
which means each morning
I hold some

small portion of her
in my hands Some days
I let her fall through

my fingers and other days
I take her little by little
into my mouth Most of the time

I just close my eyes
and hold her cool skin to my lips
I've heard men say

they would prefer to drown
in Misri It ain't
an easy task—to stroll out

into the salt blue versions of her
without looking back—but
I think men are not

like horses: Even if no one
forces our heads or hearts
We lead ourselves

At the end, he says basically: its hard not to look back when exploring a new frontier--like the sea or a relationship. And as dreadful as the future may be, the direction one takes is one's own personal choice. We've all heard the cliche "you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink". Rosal says a man leads himself to water meaning the misery he speaks of is self-inflicted. It's almost beautifully masochistic. I like his assimilation of water and the misery of being in love; being head-over-heels and diving right in. Afraid but totally unafraid.