From Writer, Artist ADI DA SAMRAJ:
The dead are rotted.
And they are not art.
They are all the dead,
the objects of your ritual.
And they are not preserved.
Am I right?
And you are the dead--
about to be.
You are all waiting for it.
You are all going to die.
And it will not release anything.
You will be eaten.
You are all biding your time with this ritual of museumistic philosophy--thinking and painting and drawing and musicking and lyricking. Poetry and politics--an involvement in action and repetition and experience.
Until, one day, completely out of the blue, whenever it will occur--at twenty, or thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, a hundred, a hundred and fifty years, whenever it occurs--out of the blue, you will get this stuffy sensation in your chest, and your mind will become unavailable to you, and your personality will become magnificently obsolete, and you will puke yourself out and become nothing.
And, for a moment, you will fulfill the Law with your bodies. But, in the next moment, all of you will be stretched out, with a little cord of Light. It is the only thing that keeps this body alive--with three parts, into the three stations of the bodily apparent heart.
And you will stand up in the room, and see your dead body, and feel so relieved from it. And that will seem like the fulfillment of the whole gesture of your understanding.
But, then, you will turn around, and somebody like your mother, your uncle, the Virgin Mary, Jesus of Galilee, Gautama Sakyamuni, Swami Muktananda--somebody will be standing there saying, "Ah, hey, it's alright! You have died now, but you are not your body. Now, come with me, and we'll go into the other world."
And you will believe it. And, actually, you should have been swept out centuries before, lives before, moments before your death. How unfortunate to have had to die in order to be relieved from your body.
But, actually, you have not been relieved from your body-identification, only from the body itself. And, in the next moment, having submitted to this argument, this preacher of your own mind, you will be swifted into some place with all kinds of smiling, white-shirted people, whose entire business it is to make you feel as comfortable--as consoled and dead--as you could possibly be.
And, then, you will be put to sleep, and you will dream for endless years.
See Artsy's complete Miya Ando page here.
I first saw Miya Ando's work a few years ago in a Sundaram Tagore email newsletter. I was on their mailing list because at one point had helped with the fabrication of Adi Da's artwork, who had openings at Tagore's Chelsea and Beverly Hills locations in 2010 and 2011. Since that time I had kept an interest in what other work Tagore represented.
In Tagore's email newsletter I was immediately attracted to the color and feeling in Ando's work. I searched for her online and this was the first piece I found:
I was writing a short story called Night Surfing and this piece became my totem for the work. I felt it captured exactly the feeling I had been meditating on and was thrilled. I put her piece on my Tumblr art blog and it started to get reblogged right away. At the time I remember her work made me think of Danny Fuller's time lapsed ocean photos. He is a surfer I grew up with on Kauai and admired his artistic development. Her stuff also made me think of Eric Cahan's sky images.
Soon I needed more. I headed to online art heaven Artsy to look for more of Ando's work. Every single thing I found of hers I liked and resonated with. I am from Marin County and saw her work, Bolinas.
Her bodhi tree leaf mandalas. Her bio says she'd grown up Buddhist. I had grown up with very strong influences of Tibetan Buddhism and Advaita Vedanta and my mother collects Bodhi leaves.
Ando's work feels happy, healing and elemental. Color is a/the most important feature of art to me because it demonstrates feeling so completely. The nonverbal is powerful. My grandmother, painter Grace Meredith, always emphasized color and getting the exact color that you saw for what you were painting. I once brought a brown blanket into her house from my car and she was so offended she made me bring the unacceptable color outside at once.
Today Ando posted this hanabira petal on her Instagram:
There's an equanimity in her work and something about it reminds me of both the elementals of growing up in wild nature, and of sitting in meditation. There's a stillness accompanying her work that is more than refreshing.
See Artsy's complete Miya Ando page here.
The Broad is a new contemporary art museum founded by philanthropists Eli and Edythe Broad on Grand Avenue in downtown Los Angeles.
El Anatsui, Red Block, 2010
Cy Twombly Nini's Painting (Rome), 1971 (with sculpture) and Untitled (Rome), 1961
Jeff Koons, Tulips, 1995-2004
Butterfly Snow Globe via
Recently I feel like this butterfly Kuan Yin sitting in her private vase, glass between her and the sounds of the world.
This morning was breakfast with the Dalai Lama. He is a good and happy man and the room filled with joy as he spoke to us, 200 women.
Artist Jon Marro presented a portrait to His Holiness as a gift at the end of the morning.
He explained the esoteric function of each part of his portrait.
My favorite element is the reflection of The Buddha's eyes in the Dalai Lama's glasses.
Many thanks to With Compassion for the invite.
The Infinity Mirrored Room is an inhabitable world that museum goers enter one at a time. The space is a mirror-lined chamber housing a dazzling and seemingling endless LED light display.
On view at The Broad Museum in Los Angeles through fall 2016.
GABRIEL OROZCO Breath on Piano, 1993 Chromogenic color print 16 × 20 in 40.6 × 50.8 cm Courtesy the artist and Marian Goodman gallery, New York and kurimanzutto, Mexico City "The Lulennial: A Slight Gestuary" at Lulu, Mexico City (2015)
More images here
Turrell and De Holanda, 500 years apart, evoking the same.
a round or eyelike opening or design, in particular.
a circular window.
the central boss of a volute.
See also O'Keefe and Sugimoto:
See more images here.