No place like a tome

Years ago, I commissioned a magical handmade book by my friend Shannon Kerner. It’s big, heavy and she stitched together a lot of blank pages. A true tome. She has gone above and beyond, as you can see.

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Shannon is a talented singer (musical moniker is Shanimal) and a total master (mistress) bookmaker. We’ve met during my Brooklyn era and it has been more than 10 years since we’ve crossed paths. However, we’ve managed to maintain a curiously vital connection via the myriad of ways of connection through the internet. I like to imagine what exactly it is that connects people. Is there a rhyme or reason? An invisible sparkle? I’ve met so many people across all the cities and countries I’ve lived in -- yet there are only certain people that I’ve managed to continue to cultivate some kind of connection over time. It is a mystery to me and I dig it. Shannon now lives right outside of Washington DC and I vow to cross paths with her again.     

Anyways, back to the book. It is very satisfying to take in the careful sewing of pages into the spine of the book. I am slowly, slowly filling it with art/drawings. I am sad to report that I’ve already spilled water on it, thus a number of the sketches got blotchy towards the bottom. Recently, I showed the book to my mom. She sighed with a mixture of exasperation and sadness at the water stains, but then in wonder at the idea of the book itself. 

My original intent was to fill the pages and give it to someone in the next generation. Back then, I wasn’t sure exactly who was going to be the recipient of the book, but now it is clear that it will go to my son Phoenix, who was born about 5 months ago from the time of this writing. His very existence continues to astound me. He is pure light, a light that dims temporarily when teething pains take hold.  

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I’ve buried the lede!  Against all odds, I’ve become a mother. During a worldwide pandemic. The first couple months (the 4th trimester) was a doozy. Despite the steep learning curves of nursing and the dooziness that comes with an all encompassing life change, the love is even more all encompassing! I can just stare at him endlessly in total fascination, whilst surrounded by a mountain of soiled diapers (compostable ones, might i add). Biology is truly powerful. It is how we all got here.

On that note, I am determined to continue my art practice, but it will be different. I shall use my time very wisely. 

Be well.

xoxod.

A place to slow things down.

I’m currently creating a very fine art den.  I like to call it the Spiritual Faraday cave, where the focus is to make the output ratio much greater that the input. A place to disentangle the mind from flailing internet tentacles. To my right, there is a window facing the jungly backyard, where I can see at least 5 different flowers, an occasional rotund squirrel, and flitting hummingbirds.   

One of the main reasons why i wish to spend more time developing this site is that I believe it is increasingly important to have creative, flourishing, messy, digital spaces beyond the Algorithm World of social media. I’ve a developing theory (without any legit, supporting data) that social algorithms cultivate monoculture — same jokes, same aesthetics, vocabulary, and etc. As it is! To create a digital place that hopefully resonates and eventually actualizes into the material world... A digital place to hash out a bunch of ideas and thoughts, because I’ve a tendency to get really distracted on the internet (pretty sure that this is a common story), and the idea flies away like a little bird (ohno!).

Ultimately, I hope this site inspires people to create their indie digital zones, if this DOES inspire you, let me know and we can create a little web ring. It’ll be great. Bring back zines. In my eyes, such artifacts glimmer. The future is in the past.

okay, onwards to more art.

dyz

(music: Soundscore to ‘Grand Budapest Hotel’. Let me tell you something, try listening to that album during your commute to work, or going somewhere via bus/train. It brings forth a curious hilarity).