'Out in the Open' at the Chatham-Kent Museum

OUT IN THE OPEN

(On the occasion of the Chatham-Kent Museum’s storage exhibition, March 31, 2016)

My African home is far from these walls of chrome, but I wait

and watch.

Nurse comes with her white gloves,

gently removing four jewelled hair clips

from their box of cedar velveteen,

laying them smoothly on a bed of porous foam.

I am out in the open now

witnessing Charon’s reckoning.

Each is given their number,

identified, classified, categorized,

but on my tome ledge

they pass by. Odd mastodon teeth

chatter in their glass;

my only companion is nested in her

casket of carefully woven linen,

far from river reeds of old;

I’m out of the closet

Guitars, lap harps, megaphones that once

sang in a cacophony of light

now stored,

but in a safe space

breathing and live.

I’m out of the dark

time pieces, milk bottles, my Bon Ami and a cyclops

eye

authenticized and imparting pointed purpose

to the particulars in our lives.

Vein-thin flags, garments and

balled gowns from a fading familiar past

yet wait still and silent

for

your eyes to give us voice.

Thames Art Gallery's 'Holly King Project'

This May-June, 2016, the Thames Art Gallery, Chatham-Kent, will host the Holly King Project, an exhibition evolving out of the one-day creation event where artists, photographers, writers and musicians come together to create a single installation. Here are two of those creations:

Where Rhinos Fly

(Artist Leonard Jubenville and Photographer Reagan Smolders)

He chooses trees first

orange for green; white for blue.

Play

where the earth is sky,

and ground an Elysian azure .

She selects screens,

purposefully disturbing

his inert, careful control.

Play

where birds walk the earth

and rhinos take flight.

He threads a small string

through the scene, rewinding each

branch, rekindling the absurd.

Play

where chimpanzees chatter

in schooners of Pi.

She adds avocado filters,

aligns the scene through her

two-dimensions and

his cellular sight,

Play

where dark is illuminated,

light pushes forth a

cast to worlds yet lived.

[photo: Co-curator Sonya Blazek]

Juanita’s Babies

(Artist Laurie Langford and Photographer Mike Blazek)

Crushed, ice-

opaque cellophane,

sections of triangle light

chipped away,

brushed to reveal

soft pink limbs and

black nails pouring

forth from the Rive

Glacé.

Whether Juanita’s babies,

death camp, Van Winkle sleep

or Cenozoic drift,

they sleep,

they sleep.

Reading "Hot-Press Heritage" at Spoken Word Sarnia Feb.27, 2016

https://youtu.be/WwlzdS_qOLo

New Sheriff in Town

(On the occasion of artists Laurie Langford and Marshall Heaton’s exhibit, “Offhand Re-Marks”

 (February 18, 2016))

Wop, Wop, Wah…

Rev your hybrids boys

there’s a new Nancy in town.

The smoke blowing out of

your double-wide is

giving me a

C+ Athena labourpain,

with a cherry on top.

This incessant oral

occupation has got to

stop.

Do you think Mrs. Josephine Rabbit

put up with this shit?

No.

She raised four

cottontails

all on her own.

I’m handing in this apron

of silence, so

Tuck your tanks under these skirts

because this is mystory now.

Let me initiate you into

MY

dog-eat-dognity:

Δelta- Οmicron- Γamma.

It bites.

Ring those Bells Far Away Bobbie

with a twist,

and crown this

Queendom already.

- poet Alexandra Ghobhainn

[images: Laurie Langford & Marshall Heaton]

ArtSpace ‘Breaking Barriers’ Journalists, 2.9.2016

It’s our time

for the

organic Wildness

within

to step forth

with

dignity and

hope.

It’s time

for the

colours of our

Gardens

to climb

and walk

through the

webs of our pasts

out

into

the flower of

our future.

At 12 There is No Mask

At 12 There is No Mask

He was grinning -

sans mask -

in a photo with

friends at 12.

He is laughing like

a boy

of the earth and sky

no reticence no

 albatross on

his back.

No bills

 hurt, lies

no cynicism

yet.

No one has

taught him

to shield

who he is.

It hasn’t occurred to him

yet.

Here in this moment is just light

air of

serotonin joy

atoms floating

in

time and place

in that photo

at 12.

            ---

At 13,

 the photo

is  posed.

He decides where

to take it;

what he will wear

now

who he will choose

to be seen

with.

He constructs

his own Brand.

Who put that

first seed of,

‘You’re not good enough’

into his guarded™

eyes?

 Soiled his

free mind-of-possibilities

  with judgments

yet to be weighed upon

this guise?

Homegrown: For the 2016 Thames Art Gallery Homecoming

Homegrown

On the occasion of the Thames Art Gallery’s ‘Homecoming’ exhibition (January 23, 2016)

This January Gust of

Inertia has brought

you

home

to the Tender Stems

of your

   Beginnings.

It was here that

Mirror Mirror

showed you Odysseus

through Polyphemus’

silk-spun eyes;

or told

  fairy tales

each night before

a lush sleep,

like little Katzman

watercolours jigging

beside your crib.

Having your

‘Head served on a Platter’

only happened

in distant lands

like Kathmandu

or, god forbid,

Toronto.

No here, at home,

with these Small

Monuments to

your childhood

tales, you

transform the portrait

of whom you once

were to

who you are

now.

Here, your

two halves

share the same canvas,

both selves focused on

   immediate

 intentions.

Two beings:

looking you

straight in the eye

of home.

For Kristy Cons 'Identities' Exhibition, ArtSpace, Chatham

This is Woman

On the occasion of artist Kristy Cons’ exhibit, “Identities” (January 23, 2016)

“Fatty!” the tosser-lescents

shame me,

their fellow female,

as I trot by,

trying to lose this excess.

Why bother?

Underwear cutting

  soft flesh;

foolish– like a circus

bear on a tricycle-

rolls at War with the worlds

around,

but I don’t have to be:

I will paint my nails black.

Stand on my head.

Jump rope (even double-dutch

if I so please).

I will wear square specs, and

let my long, luxurious

Big

Hair go,

down

stroking over those

skinny stragglers that

prod and

poke.

I will ride

My big butt

by.

Because this is

woman.

- Kara Smith, poet Ghobhainn