Friday, February 15, 2013

Leonid Meteor Shower

All Abuzzzzz About It Now!

 Leonid Meteor at point of ignition.



Star Trails circle Polaris

all photos by/property of B. Marie Jarreau

Monday, February 11, 2013

One World, Many Words

"We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight 
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always - home, 
always under one sky. . . "   Richard Blanco
                                                                            Guest blogger: Terry Keim
          It was a holiday weekend of words, as if our nation’s amazing wordsmith, Martin Luther King, whom we celebrated, infused the weekend with his spirit. First was a show at the Boise Art Museum (BAM) by Troy Passey who uses words as part of his marking system as well as content. His penmanship at times resembles thin sticks, at others, small streaks of rain. It was a postcard of his piece called I Hear the Rain that inspired the trek to see his show and meet him as he sat at a desk and made more art. All of his pieces are in black and white.
Billie Grace Lynn’s show called White Elephants was visible in the great hall through the doorway from Passey’s show. Her life-size inflated elephants tell us, as her artist’s statement says: “As the elephant is able to move silently in spite of its great mass, perhaps we too will learn to step more carefully.”
There was a vantage point in Passey’s show where his print that said “Bidden or unbidden the gods will come” and another print that said “Blessed are the forgetful” were juxtaposed by the profile of one of Lynn’s elephants through the doorway, inviting a surreal experience.

    Together they were shows of colorful pieces despite having no color among them.

Then on the drive home the next day, hearing Richard Blanco’s inaugural poem, with lines like “We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight 
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always - home, 
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
 like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
 and every window, of one country - all of us -
facing the stars…”  referencing what we were doing: heading home through the weight of snow, and mentioning the rain that Passey painted, and reminding me of two favorite haikus, one by Jane Lipman:
In all the windows
of the world
one moon
and the other by Deb Cole:
Who among us inhaled
the cloud that hid
last night’s moon?

Back home now - it is the words that will come, bidden or unbidden.

                                                                                                                Terry Keim