Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Fabric Art Bag

I was thumbing through some of my old art photos and found this really cool turtle bag I created for a friend and thought I would share some of my rarely created fabric art.
Front of bag with turtle made out of an old woven Grecian fabric

Front open showing inside stitched words, "The Universe conspires to shower you with love".

Bottom of bag with two fish used from an old Balinisian fabric I have.

The side butterfly was created using an East Indian fabric.

The Dragon Fly is made from a modern fabric, I think it was called something like, Wild Horse.

The little Eastern Blue Bird is made from wild horses fabric and bits of purple fabric from the seventies.

On the back of the bag,it is all primarily made of the modern, " Wild Horse" fabric, Grecian fabric and then beaded.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Toward Where We Are



Our leathered face masks stick their noses deep in the mulch 
         Propagator spirits
                            softened by times when rain was the farmer.

Our yield is skill in art bowls full with harvest...

  When I am full with everything thinkable 
                                                         from that space 
           where we are everything thinkable, 
you ask of me,
  my honied pelt of the Universe.
 I offer it to you along with my headband of stars free of baptism-

We are headed where we face from
  your lips glisten with the sea in each cloud, our ritual drink

  
 …...and when the present leader of  water pauses.

God the Feminine  sculpts  another moment in a larger galaxy

We miss - that we were it-

now

Headed where she is turned from, filling  with everything thought of. 

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Flight

At drift the hungry feather gets fed
 from any hyde from any mammal

At drift she gives flight to none
accept for the one she settles onto.
Atop a marrow that satiates and
feeds the wings of flight that carry two

Even if you are not- in me you are-
 my feather fans in make believe
A fire of smokeless incense
In me you are the marrow in my feather-
 We fan the flame 
      that brings the dog 
            that flies at night 
My feather on your flight.

This is what they yern for and write about and make mates superlative.

To the open stars a feather kite 
above vorticies that spring from nothing.
A no-thingness of weightlessness 
raising the heavy onyx colored shadow casting by house frames like
scattered abandoned sea shells below the bridge that carries us over

My feather for a a raft, a brief island cradling us top the upswelling rains
 where from our simultaneous clairaudience panics, " Fallow grounds!"

You reach into cardboard artifacts pulling out various nails and screws
screwing and nailing old window panes to an even older house frame
onto our raft, you say to me, "Feather of my house boat", and smile at me.

The waves swell, rise and cover, as usual. 
To navigate is by route- turning our faces to the stars we cast our lines into the reflection of the sun
and for a time ride the moon….
You will turn through my former forest 
and together we tell the ancient satellite residuals (meaning to document our eternality) 
in the alabaster sea from which they lust through
of our tunes on MP3's

Naked and now banked on your open shore 
where you intend new shoots 
Greening a grassy bank.
We rise and fall just like the coming and going of remembrance 
From which we crawl out towards-
                  crying at that pain of birthing ourselves  after the joy that comes with dying a little.

~Julie Koski (to me and my husband)

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Ball

  Most people wear various masks or hats in life. For the most part we choose which mask we will wear according to what function we are performing. In the story of Cinderella it is a Masquerade Ball she is invited to and therefore is a requirement for whom-ever goes to wear a mask. It is a rather mystical rite, because the Prince is to hopefully find his future bride to be behind such a mask and it is intimated that that is done through a dance, thus the attraction is to be determined through chemistry. This mysterious mating ritual brings to mind the thought that the Divine seeks out it's bride and will not miss the destined target. 

  The fact that in the story Cinderella, Cinderella is compared to her step mother and step sisters leaving the us with the projection that CInderella is the more fair and thus the more worthy and more equal mate to the Prince Charming leads me to look at the story from a more mystical or spiritually alchemical level. I reflect on my accumulated spiritual teachings, all of which I feel is derives from a common knowledge of psycho/spiritual process and makes me pause on the thought that the Divine will only fill a worthy and pure vessel. If we look at Prince Charming the colors of his attire also gives clue to his true seat of power, which is akin to divinity with the colors, white, gold and black. His essence is that of light. He is in every way perfect and embodiment of both his mother (black) and father (white) as we find on the Kabbalah at the spheres of Binah (Mother) and Hokhmah(Father) and the Prince is golden and white like the Sun residing at the Sephiroth of Tiferet. Cinderella is clad in the basci earth tones and bare footed or simple shoed representing Malkhut ( Earth-daughter, which the Keter or divine spirit will fill).

  Just as we think Cinderella will not make it to the Ball an unforeseeable and magical occurrence happens. Her Fairy God Mother comes on the scene and makes it all happen. Telling us, the observer that her going to the Ball is predestined and is also her right to do so. She is dressed in a light blue surreal dress with the help of her pets aiding her fairy Godmother. Blue is the color of her father (Hokhmah) on the cabalistic tree of life.


Come back and visit my page, I will have more to write the mystical aspect of Cinderella.