Each combination of DNA creates a world of possibilities; combinations of people walking down a given street at a given time, combinations of atoms and sub particles to make new molecules. All over the universe, possibilities of every size and hue open and close like a huge, breathing matrix within which we exist like little particles, scudding from one channel to the next. Cork Textiles Network's "Love Knot "Exhibition, Bishopstown Library, Cork, Ireland. 3rd - 27th February 2015 Opening on Saturday, 6th February 2015 at 4pm https://www.facebook.com/events/783288468471091/ -
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After a timely call from Tania Clarke Hall (London-based designer of leather jewelry), I found myself standing in agreeably clear morning coolness outside Islington's Business Design Centre as she arrived on her pink Brompton bicycle. There was a little buzz as last minute works were being brought in to the London Art Fair and we were enjoying that behind-the-scene sensation that you get when you get to an event slightly early. There were many things to see but here are my top 3 artists .My absolute favourite work was by Korean artist Kwang Young Chun whose work has a mesmerising intricacy in both surface and volume. Some art is best viewed at a certain proximity but Kwang Young Chun's pieces give the eye something to savour both from close up and from afar. Second up was Kazuhito Takadoi (Jaggedart Art Gallery), whose works of gently coaxed twigs and grasses were at once airy and intimate. Third was Oliver Barratt (Beardsmore Gallery). I found his work has a tactile gaiety that was simply appealng Now. I'm saying 1-2-3 as if it is a ranking but really, it's more the order in which I would buy the work, pipedream-wise. So if anyone out there wants to buy my work for me to fund these purchases...
In this world we remain bright and still, still and soundless, soundless but listening, listening to the shadows. In their world, they conjure stars and halos, meteoroids and nebulae, suns and comets, compressing whole universes onto the corner of a handkerchief.
On a ridge of Cork's northern outlands, blackened trees perform their ancient rites. They scarify the hollowed skies with their sharpened tips while snake-thin sentinels watch to the city and the frothing oceans beyond, Their solstice-cleansing scrapes on the psyche of the receding sun. He turns from winter in an explosion, momentarily bleaching the horizon and all else beyond. He has stepped back from the brink. The days will lengthen once again.
Trapped in the web of a spider long dead, a changed perspective lets you imagine that he's in suspended animation rather than just suspended
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