Reconciliation

Last day.
Ivory curtains.
Blurry. Cyan.
Rotation.
Blurry.

 

Hi Scarborough

Scarborough

Sprout

sprout

sprouts on cold days.

I Am a Home pt.2

I am a planet,

you are a traveler,

seeking home.

Maybe a planet can orbit at ease,

while a traveler plays.

Maybe a planet can be a traveler,

a traveler a planet.

Maybe travelers can find a home,

be a home.

You are a planet,

I am a traveler,

seeking home.

Maybe a traveler can handle

when a planet fissures and quakes.

Maybe a planet can handle

when a traveler needs space.

We are planets,

we are travellers.

Carefully,

seeking home.

I Am a Home.

I am a planet,

you are a traveler,

seeking home.

I have clean water,

green trees.

You evaluate conditions.

Maybe you’ll find cleaner waters,

greener trees.

elsewhere.

So you travel.

Cautiously,

seeking home.

I am a planet.

I want to be your home.

But then I don’t.

Because don’t feel like enough

when you assess and weigh.

You are a traveler,

and travelers never find home.

Put It Down.

I’d like to show you my reservations.

Check the cupboard, in the usual place.

Reservations about reservations,

and a reserved nature.

Depleting reserves and abstracting salvation.

Complications and condensation on my favourite glass.

It’s a bit slippery and I’m not sure how to handle it.

Put it down right now.

Kirstin Turnbull_Put It Down_$320

I Have a Voice

I am a lake without a choice.
Matter thrown inside sinks out of sight and mind,
lost in the reservoir– decomposses.
Becoming part of the waters, blending with foreign archaic sediment.

But waters recede,
Sediment takes form.

I see clearly the solid refuse.
I am not a lake, I have a voice,
and sound waves distort reflections of you.

I have mass.

Enough to throw down like a hammer and shatter offshore rubble.
Fossils remain like battle scars that tattoo my solid, solid form.

I am not a lake, my body another kind.
I am a warrior clad in titanium, echoing cries that insist victory.
Ablaze with sun that dries spittle from existence.

Light Sound Vibration

1auras2016oldlaurel

The Auras at The Old Laurel, 300 College St, Toronto ON

We Are All The Same

alc4

“We all have a part to play as human beings. We are all the same.”- Kim Wheatley

See more photos from the Algonquin Land Claim information session here.

Line, Space, Texture

weirdportraitminimal

I set out to make some new “hair landscape” images when I started this, similar to the image below:

showcase6-mmp-8x10

Lately I’ve been much more open to using photographs of myself as references for drawings. The convenience of photographing myself on whatever angle I’d like to draw is massively helpful. I’m also growing to be more okay with exploring “self” in my art, which was something I had reservations about in the past (general feelings of grossness regarding narcissism/self obsession prevented me from really delving into it). I’m finding it to be a very therapeutic practice.

This piece however (at the top of this post) is more of a technical exploration than a “self” exploration. I was drawing from a photograph of myself to get a particular profile angle that I wanted to capture. After completing the drawing phase, I went looking through my library of landscape photos I’ve complied for the purpose of splicing/editing with my drawings. When I didn’t find any photos that jumped out at me, I layered the original reference photograph that I was drawing from with the drawing itself, and filled in the drawn hair area with the actual hair texture from the photograph. And I was… pleased. Actually, I was very excited. I haven’t felt this actively interested or exhilarated by drawing in a while. I can use this mixed media approach to explore further breaking down the drawn and photographed area/minimalism/how much information can I remove while still creating an engaging portrait? There will definitely be more work in this vein popping up soon.