Highlights from Baren Forum Exchange #76 2/3

Humanity by Brad Ladwig

More highlights from Baren Forum's Exchange #76. 

With these two prints, the theme of humanity is represented in the abstract. Brad Ladwig's people remind me of Leo Lionni's picturebook Little Blue and Little Yellow, as all the people are shown as circles of color. In Lionni's story, the colors are at first separate, but then they mix, and become unrecognizable to those around them. 

Conversely, in Ladwig's print, the circles are all together in the same bowl, still, static and distinctly separated from each other. As Kahil Gibran wrote On Marriage: "let there be spaces in your togetherness." 

Interconnected, You & Me by Diane Cutter

Diane Cutter's print perhaps shows what happens if the circles intermingle but instead of blending their colors, they create new shape, rather like the intermingling of oil and water. The shapes morph like a lava lamp, creating new shapes as they go, though it seems no matter how much they intermingle, creating ever increasingly complex designs, the even percentages of stark black and white will persist. 

Looking longer at these images, they both seem to illustrate a sort of pluralism, where participants of equal value manage to meaningfully retain their differences as they share the same space with each other. 

Highlights from Baren Forum Exchange #75 1/2

I'm rather late posting these highlights of Baren Exchange #75 (I've already also received the prints from #76 - will post those highlights later this week), but they also were delivered late, and big whoop, later is better than never.

I've selected these two to feature first - if I'm  honest - for personal reasons, both sentimental and existential.

Wait, don't I always do that?

I spent a lot of time around children or by myself, and so I'm perpetually hungry for contact with other adults. Not boring small talk, but intelligent or at least juicy conversation. So when I looked at Therese Krupp's Over Coffee... I couldn't help but identify with the figure on the right who seems to just be yap yapping away, while the figure on the left looks ahead, sipping coffee. There's no clear indication of how either of these people feel or what they are discussing. I don't know if the person sipping is all that invested in what she's hearing her companion say or not. It's all just sounds, and a big, red rectangle, and steam rising up from mugs, and the smell of coffee, and this is the wallpaper of one sort of human experience.

So then there's this Still Life - Bananas and Coffee, by Brad Ladwig, and I'm in my kitchen, alone again, staring at this carafe I use every day, this fruit I bought at the grocery store yesterday, and I'll buy another bunch next week, and the week after that, and I'm just utterly struck by this pretty, but lonely, awkward, and incomplete moment, that is so much like many others, and yet it is this moment, right here, now, and never again.

Highlights from [Baren] Exchange #69

These are two prints from the [Baren] Forum's print exchange #69. The theme and style were open and the paper size was 10" x 15". There were 15 participants, and while all were a joy to receive, I felt compelled to pair these two together with my personal reflections. They were in no way created by the artists to be a pair, but I cannot help but imagine them that way. (Incidentally, I will also almost certainly frame and display them together somewhere in my home.) 

The first is Rough Draft by Theresa Martin, and the second is Still Life with Books and Glasses by Brad Ladwig. In one the author (or artist) himself is steeped in contemplation of his own words (or perhaps imagery). It is the transition between the time for free flow of artistic expression and putting on one's editor cap. 

The second image seems to be the other side of the desk. There are manuscripts, but they are closed. The glasses have been removed; they and the books are resting during the in-between time as much as their owner. The difference is that in the portrait, while the creator is still, he is engulfed in fire. Everything in and around him - the stripes in his shirt, the shadows of his hand and face - flickers. What moves in his mind transcends mere thinking. But the setting before him is fixed and serene, patient in their waiting for him to act. 

After the transition is complete there will be a reliving of powerful moments, wondering at the imagination of the muse, but that will be alongside the wincing at troublesome areas and the dreaded killing of one's darlings. 

Highlights from Baren Exchange #67 (Part 2 of 3)

Check out my first post highlighting prints from Baren Print Exchange #67 here. 

I knew right away that I had to feature these two prints together in the same post, but it's hard to articulate exactly why that is. They both evoke a calm and comforting effect on me while, oddly enough, simutaneously causing me to imagine myself as a rat in a maze. 

The first print featured here is "Natator Scene" by Achim Nicklis.

We're at the center of the universe, and everything has its place, and all the pieces fit together nice and neat, except it doesn't, not really, not exactly, and then we see the ripples, feel the flow, and hear a quiet but constant hum. We notice the imperfections in the lines and move a little more carefully, and after a few moments take in the startling realization that we will never be in this spot ever again, as it is fading away even as we float here watching and wondering. 

The second print featured here is "Start Somewhere" by Brad Ladwig.

The real path is not linear. Some of these walls are solid, but others will crumble if we only put some effort into knocking them down.