stepchildhiyme

2012-02-09T13:25:00.000-05:00

I AM NOT TOUGH

the stories mixed make
those other ones sound false
i have no more stories
though i want you to hear my stories
my lies my mistakes
forget though im no one of great worth
and i have absolute denial against my well being

though im searching
i fail to admit complete defeat
falling closer to hope actions and love

lovers seek nothing
asking they not be touched
or hoped for

flowers and rain
vices such as glory fades them
not they
seek those two lovers

do i not have what it
truly takes to provide these actions
for my glory has no worth when alone

once ive sought these wild days
these wild girls
these mad women or moments
though you and i have nothing or nothing
else to remember to share following our fates to death
and death pause and provide peace
to so many mad dreams today

and later when all is disgusting
with false ideals or fiction

©berlinhb2012

2012-01-30T15:44:00.000-05:00

hiymebrummett.com

2011-10-27T07:42:00.000-04:00

http://www.surlamontagne.de/SlaM.html

2011-09-21T15:05:00.001-04:00

http://www.devoneliseatkins.com/

http://immersivesurfaces.com/

http://www.berlinartlink.com/2011/09/19/immersive-surfaces-in-new-york/

2011-08-13T09:16:00.000-04:00

POEM #16 berlin

to see her
you must always smile
take yourself down the stream
you must not hunt

i love you the wolf screams
alone, cold and sudden she wants
always be my sweet soft skin
he screams!!!

she must be walking. holding her soul
go away she must scream

hold me, hold me. he has haste
love me love me
he needs

hb2011

2011-06-20T08:41:00.000-04:00

writing this unaware of my thoughts
the day seems older than it was before

2011-05-30T09:15:00.002-04:00

Poem #12

At night the old south American women chatter.
The young and old dogs hurry with happy tails throughout the streets.
Fruit stands are closing- the exhausted and young lovers are heading home for home cooked dinner and refreshing showers and soft pillows. The young lovers eat quickly and speak open about waiting all day in the warm sun. Wanting this to be a forever night of kisses and sweat.
The romantic cobble stone streets cool from the fresh spring nightime breeze.
      The slick, cool and handsome chaps are stomping the stone with their usaul stroll. Wanting food, dancing and the sweet aroma the local beauties release into the night breeze.

   The beauties begin gentle walks from all areas of this waking village.
Each one wearing a sundress and tiny panties that would be a reason to write a novel describing how the arrow and bow became lovers.
        Wearing sandals that you always allow eyes to travel up their legs- you can see the softness of their skin- some have dark skin that is the shade of a beauty that has seen the sun but was granted the naughty mind of a shaded mountain. Some beauties are touched with snow so they can have skin u wish to reward with warm hands and nude dips in the local lake that is warmed everyday so the night has something cool to drink.

   The beauties are made with formal curves in every area any man or woman could imagine. And the curves covered by a sheer soft cotton.
They are all in love with the dark, star filled sky and run their hands through there long dark-light- hair when the wind sends kisses to tickle there skin.
      The beauty they have is the evening making love with the dawn.

Sitting at the old cafe the old chaps are having their rest from the sun- chatting with tone- drinking cool drinks-sharing the same stories. They are old strong men. Strong backs and strong hands. The night air allows the coolness to come back.
They are joyful men.
     The other village from the sun is sleeping on soft pilliows. Young lovers are naked and kissing and sweaty. Writing poems for boats and birds.
And awake finally is the romantic dreamer- sitting in his chair by the window listening to the village: glancing ever so often to his right to see his sunlit sleeping nude. She will wake soon to have a sweet snack. She is sun and night. That's how lovers make love.

the beauties have walked and rested on cafe chairs and now one by one they are approached by the handsome chaps they have seen their entire life and asked to dance on the nude streets. Music coming from the local romance composer.

         They dance in slow steps.
         They write poems on coffee
          stained napkins. Share stories
          of happy and laughable memories.

They are awake and they are in love with living and laughing.

hb2010

2011-05-04T10:08:00.000-04:00

http://cargocollective.com/herrcornwall

max cornwall photographs

2011-04-21T13:45:00.000-04:00

to understand how one feels
is that
to hate is to love only hate
they once walked alone
they talked together
what is that you say
to love
to hate
to want
to never understand
never is this understanding
much is to want
I walk with with you
never do I talk to you

hbberlin2011

2011-04-03T09:58:00.000-04:00

new painting

untitled (let go) hurt no more

no image

happiness and heart and my mistake drive my need

to feel this void of lonely without family into a change not anymore mistakes over finding dreams over finding a place where I fit I will never fit but

I will always be a warrior and I will love forever.

hb2011

2011-03-11T10:47:00.000-05:00

BERLIN POEM NUMBER SEVEN 110311

take slow shower

water washing my face

take time in daylight hours

look at an open sky

though gone confused scared

smiles and matches

cover my face after thirty two

hb2011

2011-02-11T15:15:00.000-05:00

HIYME BRUMMETT 2011

2011-01-07T14:38:00.000-05:00

http://walterwillamsphotographs.tumblr.com/

MARIOTORRESPHOTOGRAPHY 2011

2011-01-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

http://mariotorresphotography.com/

UNTITLED YEAR 2010

2010-12-20T18:24:00.001-05:00

I' AM SORRY FOR EVERYTHING.

INVENTORY MAGAZINE issue 3 fall/winter 2010

2010-11-28T17:10:00.000-05:00

http://www.inventorymagazine.com/magazine/issue-03-fall-winter.html

MARIO NICHOLAS TORRES

2010-11-28T16:58:00.001-05:00

THE PHOTOGRAPHER

http://marionicholastorres.tumblr.com/

POEM #081055

2010-10-10T02:37:00.000-04:00

I never lost a child.
he had brown hair
she was young
I had a brother
and a sister
and another brother

where should I go from here
my sons have fallen off so many steps

my youngest son had dreams about me saving him from falling from a bridge

wake up
wake up
wake up now!

goodnight useful water
goodbye lost child
I lost and he won
did he fight me so
did he wish me a future

sorry to leave
I have to go
I wish you so many days

may your smiles not be so sad now.

POEM #346

2010-09-07T16:06:00.000-04:00

sudden stop and drop
she questioned all of her options
not one made sense
this is the thought of location
this under a blanket
she suddely had cold hands
she thought
suddely a bear appeared
dark brown with huge paws
understand his gentle story
she thought

woman. thank you. goodnight

2010-08-26T18:21:00.000-04:00

TALKED FOR DAYS AT NINE YEARS OLD

2010-07-12T06:20:00.001-04:00

www.jerichoditch.com

BIO NUMBER # 233

2010-07-12T06:17:00.002-04:00

Hiyme Brummett
b. 1979 Houston, Texas

Lives and works in New York, New York

Brummett's work spans widely through means of painting, photography, and poetry, to textile and site specific workings.

His world is one of dreams and hard knocks but thought provoking and pleasing from his experiences roaming pinewoods as a kid and growing up with wolves / bikers.

Brummett often pairs unexpected elements such as a twine accents to one of his hand dyed t-shirts which seemingly distill complexity of human experience to its essence/elemental shapes. His work often weaves alchemy- wooden ironing board into a kitchen table, fireplace mantle into a cash wrap, worn cotton t-shirt into a gala worthy top, rainstorm into a reason to live. Feels out and finds the finishing touch that deals the knock out blow and demands a double take. Regards powerful flexibility creating successful art into functional commercial items resourceful to a consumer, retail institution, and commercial organization and advertisement agency

Painting a world of his imagining speaking through symbols and suggestions. The symbols that Hiyme uses have been reproduced through out history; Examples include numerous African tribes creating utilitarian crafts (pottery) for daily actives: reproducing the same markings with precise detail on each pot – Historic maps using similar symbols and in most cases using the same symbols used in Africa pottery and numerous cultures through out history to indicate mountains, paths and suggestive routes on land and across oceans. Crosses(Crucifixes) used as decoration and spiritual remembrance and not used for religious purposes but merely repetition and again decoration. An obvious suggestion in Hiyme’s art reveals his personal life history subtlety of using memories, stories and conceptually non- fictional and fictional characters including landscapes he remembers and imagines.

TALKED FOR DAYS AT NINE YEARS OLD

2010-07-07T08:01:00.002-04:00

HIYME BRUMMETT 7.4.10 / 8.14.10

Jericho Ditch is pleased to announce, TALKED FOR DAYS AT NINE YEARS OLD,an exhibition of recent works by Hiyme Brummett.

Brummett's work spans widely through means of painting, photography, and poetry, to textile and site specific workings. The current exhibition is made up of seven acrylic paintings on paper, two sculptures, and a series of photographs taken of bodega flower arrangements. Such works have developed out of an ongoing battle with both substance abuse and physiological trauma, informing a charged yet poetic narrative.

Brummett has produced thousands of works in relative seclusion over the last decade while living on several coasts of the Americas and Egypt alike. The current show marks the first exhibition of Brummett's work in over nine years. Please join us for a opening reception on Saturday July 10th at 6pm.

WWW.JERICHODITCH.COM

http://jerichoditch.com/future.html

2010-06-29T07:24:00.001-04:00

jerichoditch.com/future.html

AFRICAN ARTIST

2010-06-29T07:19:00.002-04:00

monday, 28 june 2010

Words of the Artist | Momodou Ceesay

Here is the radical book by Momodou Ceesay. A story about an artist struggling with the world and wanting to have an audience with God.

Far from being a religious book this is a radical look at the way in which leaders of the world are busy turning their eyes to the truth.

Here is an artist from the Gambia, who trained in the States and speaks perfect French from the Sorbonne in Paris. He is a man now in his sixties and who has so much knowledge and life experience within his being. His voice is clear and forceful. His words from the book have been spoken at Action Aid meetings and follow a clear message of human rights and human betrayals. Here is a voice of reason and echoes the thoughts and issues of our troubled world of today.

This is a book to be read and houses 36 prints by the artist.

Here is the link:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Knees-Before-These-Mighty-Heavens/dp/1578640660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1277737909&sr=8-1

What is exciting about this book and it's illustrations is that it comes from an intelligent African man, who speaks the language of the masses. Momodou speaks out for all the Africans on the Continent in a language that we can all understand.

Lawren Stewart Harris (1885 - 1970)

2010-06-25T07:17:00.000-04:00

understood. Hb 10'

"Untitled"

-DYLAN THOMAS

2010-06-25T07:13:00.000-04:00

Lie still, sleep becalmed, sufferer with the wound
In the throat, burning and turning. All night afloat
On the silent sea we have heard the sound
That came from the wound wrapped in the salt sheet.

Under the mile off moon we trembled listening
To the sea sound flowing like blood from the loud wound
And when the salt sheet broke in a storm of singing
The voices of all the drowned swam on the wind.

Open a pathway through the slow sad sail,
Throw wide to the wind the gates of the wandering boat
For my voyage to begin to the end of my wound,
We heard the sea sound sing, we saw the salt sheet tell,
Lie still, sleep becalmed, hide the mouth in the throat,
Or we shall obey, and ride with you through the drowned.

- Dylan Thomas

thank you,
Sas

POEM #18

2010-06-21T17:00:00.004-04:00

Poem #18

mistakes and stones

The idea that when one is mistaken for a mistake his eyes close and his heart comes to a stop.

He stands still and forgives not what his mistakes showed him when his eyes were closed but what they showed him when his eyes opened.

Mistakes are not that of idea
They do not make the human soul less than nor black

His mistakes make his angel walk through Rivers that carry soft stones
Mistakes are mistaken for broken bridges. His love becomes a strong voice of working toward forgiving himself and forgiveness of others

I have made mistakes and I reward others as I show mistakes are human.
My youth smiled. As my age smiles now and my fear closes not all mistakes but today I've shown falling is not mine or others.
Rescue those with color and kindness.

Hb 210610

stepchildhiyme: working/\classnyc

2010-06-20T06:29:00.002-04:00

POEM

2010-06-11T08:17:00.002-04:00

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Edgar Allan Poe

POEMS FOR WIND

2010-05-24T07:17:00.000-04:00

One Being Brought From Africa To America

'TWAS mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought now knew,
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
'Their colour is a diabolic die.'
Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.

Phillis Wheatley

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

William Blake

This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

RUMI

Being inexhaustible, life and nature are a constant stimulus for a creative mind. (Hans Hofmann) why we KISS

The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.
- Hans Hofmann

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune -- without the words,
And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me

Emily Dickinson

SPANISH where i happen to be. Hb10"

2010-05-13T08:19:00.000-04:00

Spanish Word of the Day Archive
Thursday May 13, 2010

Today's Word | Yesterday's Word | Previous Words | Subscribe for Free | Help

pendiente, adjective:
to await, to wait for
We saw pendiente in an earlier Spanish Word of the Day, meaning unresolved or pending. In the phrase estar pendiente de it means to await, or to wait for:

Aún está pendiente de ser ratificado.
It’s still waiting to be ratified.

Estamos pendientes de lo que él decida*.
We’re waiting to see what he decides.

©untitled 050310

2010-05-13T08:04:00.000-04:00

I know
fears burst
heart
leaks

I feel
faith flows
love
peaks

I see
stride falter
smiles
slip

I give
wind kisses
strength
shakes

Sarah Ashley Simmons

050610

2010-05-06T23:30:00.002-04:00

A Child's Amaze

SILENT and amazed, even when a little boy,
I remember I heard the preacher every Sunday put God in his
statements,
As contending against some being or influence.

Walt Whitman

RAIN 050310

2010-05-03T09:17:00.003-04:00

ADREAMWITHINADREAM edgar allan poe

2010-05-03T04:40:00.000-04:00

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Edgar Allan Poe

LOSTKINDOMSOFAFRICA

2010-04-29T03:42:00.000-04:00

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00pq946/Lost_Kingdoms_of_Africa_Nubia/

MY POP RIP 1996 LOVE ALWAYS jaime walter brummett-o'pry 2010

2010-04-24T21:26:00.001-04:00

POEM # 26

you had a face and beard
your hands beat my dear mother

i watched you pop wheelies
i could hear you and mom arrive home
after three am

your Harley had a noise of roar
i forgive you
the beach took me
i had a dream about you

you said goodbye-i said farewell
i miss the noise of the Harley.

Hb 10'

BODEGA FLOWERS WINTER TO SPRING Hb2010

2010-04-20T21:02:00.000-04:00

poem # 77

color is reaching sun
rain hits thunderstorms
taking reason from doubt
youthful eyes reach french breast
reason from doubt
color changes
blossom with rain
take hands and reward
green, jungle and ocean.

Hb 04.20.10

TRARGIC HARD 2007

2010-04-07T16:10:00.001-04:00

PERU PAINTING

2010-04-06T08:18:00.000-04:00

'ONE TON WANTON' ART OPENING x MICHAEL FENSTER APRIL 3RD, 2010

2010-04-01T03:10:00.000-04:00

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= HELLO EVERYTHING! SATURDAY APRIL 3RD AT 8PM WILL BE THE OPENING OF 'ONE TON WANTON' A MIXED MEDIA ART SHOW WITH ALL BRAND NEW WORKS BY MICHAEL FENSTER YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED AT 368 GRAHAM AVENUE IN BROOKLYN THANK YOU KINDLY :) HTTP://BROOKLYNQUEENSROACHMOTEL.BLOGSPOT.COM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

CROSSES HOLY AND UNHOLY 2009-2010

2010-03-25T01:41:00.000-04:00

gray wolf 2010

2010-03-24T07:50:00.002-04:00

2010

2010-03-20T03:33:00.000-04:00

cuchillo: Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

from Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

cuchillo:
[Spanish] el cuchillo
[English] knife

bonito: Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

from Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

bonito:
[Spanish] bonito
[English] pretty; nice

-azo: Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

from Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

-azo:
[Spanish] -azo
[English] huge; great

particular: Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

from Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

particular:
[Spanish] particular
[English] private; special; particular

2010

2010-03-20T03:31:00.000-04:00

fiel: Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

from Dictionary.com Spanish Word of the Day

fiel:
[Spanish] fiel
[English] loyal, faithful; accurate

2010

2010-03-20T02:57:00.000-04:00

SHE IS A WARRIOR ⓒHb 03162010- GIFT TO MARIO TORRES PHOTOGRAPHER -

2010-03-20T02:53:00.001-04:00

Dear Supporters, Friends and Colleagues, Axis Gallery invites you to attend the opening reception of Sammy Baloji's first solo museum show in the US on March 25th, 2010, 6-8 pm. The Beautiful Time in Lubumbashi: Photography by Sammy Baloji, is curated by Bogumil Jewsiewicki and organized by the Museum for African Art, New York. Bogumil Jewsiewicki will also give a lecture, Coversations with a Continent: Profiles of African Artists, on March 24, 2010 from 6.30-8pm at Columbia School of International and Public Affairs, 420 West 118th Street, Rm 1512, New York, NY 10027. We hope to see you at these events. Gary van Wyk & Lisa Brittan

2010-03-20T02:29:00.000-04:00

ⓒUNTITLEDUPSIDEDOWNTHOUGHT 08'/09'

2010-03-16T08:29:00.001-04:00

ⓒwsphoto 08'/09'

ⓒSTILLTHINKINGSTUDIO 08'/09'

2010-03-16T08:27:00.001-04:00

ⓒwsphoto 08'/09'

ⓒTHINKINGSTUDIO 08'/09'

2010-03-16T08:25:00.001-04:00

ⓒwsphoto 08'/09'

ⓒSTUDIO 3 08'/09'

2010-03-16T08:22:00.002-04:00

ⓒwsphoto 08'/09'

-untitiled- 2009 SARAH ASHLEY SIMMONS

2010-03-15T02:06:00.000-04:00

-old- 07.07.09

2010-03-15T02:03:00.000-04:00

SKETCH FOR -secretinspiration- PAINTINGS - untitiled 03.15.2010

2010-03-15T01:59:00.001-04:00

Zulu, Nongoma region, South Africa Thinsana clan Apron, obheshwana/isigege 1940’s glass beads, cotton thread worn by young girls and old mem

2010-03-13T09:39:00.001-05:00

Bwiti Photographs by Donald Mouboga (Gabon)

2010-03-13T09:30:00.000-05:00

africanartists.blogspot.com/2010

2010-03-13T09:18:00.000-05:00

Thursday, 11 March 2010

WE HAD A DREAM THAT WE WERE HAVING NIGHTMARES...

A KIDS WORLD

We, the Kids of the world, saw God and she looked just like us.
So we have been thinking. Should we tell the Adults?
We have been sworn to keep her secret sacred in our naivety.
God is Santa for the grown ups, shall we squeal?
We are so scared that if we tell, they will smack us.

We had a dream that we were having nightmares.

Our local churches are abusing us.
Stealing our pocket money every Sunday.
Robbing us of our sweets and games.
Should we spill the beans to the Adults?
We are so scared that if we tell, they will smack us.

We had a dream that we were having nightmares.

The Power of God is with us, the Children.
She is the fear and the glue that binds.
The church is a place where the Adults adore.
How do we tell our secret of what we have seen?
We are so scared that if we tell, they will smack us.

We had a dream that we were having nightmares.

The church makes them feel safe: theatre of the mind.
Being betrayed and robbed makes them feel safe.
Kids Against Church Abuse, maybe that will work?
But we, the Kids, are worried we might offend those
less thoughtless than ourselves so we hold back.

We will be having nightmares forever and ever Amen.

Author: Joe Pollitt

Posted by African Artists at 17:34

africanartists.blogspot.com/2010

2010-03-13T09:17:00.001-05:00

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

WHAT IS ART?

A parting of knowledge found.

An idea gently shared with others.

A secret told to all who would listen.

A love that touches the souls of others.

A confidence in ourselves and all that we are.

A question raised and a question answered.

A giving away of ourself.

Our way of giving to others.

A value placed on our thoughts.

A puzzle struggled with and a problem solved.

Anything less would be prostitution.

Art is an exclusive Club; Union; Association; Society; Guild; Alliance, Fellowship.

Art is diminished, reduced, lessened, cheapened, undervalued, devalued and brought down.

DEAD.

This poem is far from over. Over to you....

Posted by African Artists at 00:39

BILL TRAYLOR AN ARTIST WITH A GENUIS THAT SHOT ROMAN CANDLES ON THE NIGHT SKY AND CAN BRING A HOPEFUL SINCERE CHANGE IN THE ART WORLD TODAY. CITIES IN SNAKE PITS new york / london / miami / and maine!!! PAINTING HAS A FRUITFUL TREE THAT ONLY GIVES FRESH PEACHES TO THOSE WHO PLACE A HAND IN AN ALLIGATORS MOUTH AND WHEN YOUR HAND HAS BEEN BITTEN BY TEETH YOU WALK AWAY WITH ONLY A HEART AND A CRAFT MASTERED BY TRUTH AND NOT AN OUNCE OF FEAR CAN MISSPLACE YOUR GOAL NOR CREATING A FICTIONAL ART WORK (SHIT ART THAT I HAVE SEEN WHEN I WOULD WAKE UP HOMELESS WITH MY PARENTS PRAYING TO A GOD THAT GAVE NO CROSS NOR HOPE ) MOST CONTEMPORARY ARTIST IN TODAYS WORLD WILL NOT ACHIEVE WHAT BILL TRAYLOR HAD. HIS HAND WAS FREE ONLY BECAUSE THE ALLIGATOR HAD BITTEN HIM. PAINT AND MOVE FORWARD. MOST OF YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A TRUTHFUL HEART OR SOUL ONLY FEET AND SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTER THAT YOUR VIRGIN SOULESS TURKEYS HAVE TAUGHT YOU AND YOUR BELIEF THAT YOUR A SINCERE TALENT WORTHY OF A SPECIAL BOOK WITH THE TITLE SCREAM AND RUN YOU HAVE NOT SEEN A REAL PAINTING NOR SCULPTURE NOR FILM NOR PERFOMANCE NOR PAIN THAT IN LIFE RUNS DRY SKIN OVER YOUR NUDE BODY AND YOUR INABLITIY TO PUT YOUR HAND IN THE ALLIGATORS MOUTH. PLEASE JUDGE ME AS I JUDGE YOU AND THE WORLD BUT I HAVE PUT MY HAND IN THE ALLIGATORS MOUTH AND I HAVE ONLY MY GOALS AND LIES AND PAIN AND MISTAKES AND COLOR TO CREATE. PLEASE JUDGE. AND OPEN YOUR EYES AND SEE BIIL TRAYLOR AS A PAINTER AND A STORY YOU WILL NEVER BE TODAY NOR TOMORROW. hiyme walter brummett 03 09 2010

2010-03-09T20:17:00.002-05:00

Bill Traylor, American, about 1854-1949

House with Figures and Animals (House with Figures; House with Figures and Snake)
1939
Colored pencil and graphite on cardboard
Purchased through the Florence and Lansing Porter Moore 1937 Fund; D.2003.53

Bill Traylor was born into slavery, worked on a plantation most of his life, and only began to draw at the age of eighty-five, while he was homeless in Montgomery, Alabama. With an almost obsessive drive, he created about twelve hundred drawings in just a few years. This work conveys Traylor’s humorous storytelling abilities, masterful sense of design, and haunting vocabulary of stylized forms. He described the events in the top portion of his drawing: “Goose grabs little boy’s penis through fence / boy ties himself to the calf who dashes / through a hole in fence—little boy caught.” In the center, Traylor imaginatively conflated the front and side elevations of a propped-up “double pen” house—a common vernacular building type of the South—distinguishing its structural sections with different colors. The rattlesnake that undulates across the composition segregates the lower enigmatic vignette from the primary narrative and marks a distinct shift in mood, as we view a boy pointing to the crotch of a one-legged man. In Traylor’s work such recurring motifs as snakes, birds on roofs, birdlike people, and people chasing or probing each other with sticks suggest the artist’s relentless exploration of particular stories, observations, and perhaps spiritual metaphors. Although Traylor’s specific African roots remain undocumented, his motifs and photographic approach to design point to a deep familiarity with African visual, oral, and spiritual traditions. His stylized birds, for instance, recall the iron birds that crown Yoruba staffs honoring Orish Oko, the deity of farming. They could also represent messengers to the spirit world—or simply be mischievous farmyard chickens. Although embedded in the African American culture of the South, Traylor’s pictographic language is also elemental and timeless, recalling such diverse expressions as prehistoric cave drawings and modernism.

AFRICA 2010 - PAY ATTENTION

2010-03-09T19:19:00.000-05:00

Art by Mandela and African Artists Heads to Bonhams

By Amber Vilas

Published: March 9, 2010

Africa Now Sale at Bonhams

Courtesy Bonhams

This flag signed by South African presidents Nelson Mandela, Thabo Mbeki and FW de Klerk was sold by Bonhams earlier this year.

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NEW YORK— Tomorrow Bonhams will give over its Madison Avenue location to “Africa Now: Contemporary African Art,” a moderately-publicized sale that the British house is touting as the first auction of recent African artworks to be staged in New York. Mixing sketches by former South African president Nelson Mandela with works by such artists as Ben (Benedict Chukwukadibia) Enwonwu, Yusuf Adebayo, and Bruce Onobrakpeya, the event has already attracted enthusiastic supporters — including Alicia Keys, whose charity Keep a Child Alive is partnering with Bonhams for the sale's VIP reception. The auction will showcase work by a number of African artists who may prove to be exciting discoveries for unfamiliar collectors. Nigerian artist Yusuf Adebayo Grillo, for instance, is not an artist known for his speedy production — it can take him as long as several years to call a work complete — which makes it all the more impressive that he'll be represented by two works: his painting Harvest, estimated between $50,000–80,000, and Sabada, a 1964 portrait of a woman presumably doing the dance of that name, estimated between $50,000–80,000.
Based in Bremen, Germany, but originally from Ghana, the painter Owusu-Ankomah credits Michelangelo as an early influence in his work, yet, while this reference can still be seen in the positioning of his figures, he has has gone on to combine those references with more contemporary images of signage — particularly adinkra signs from Ghana — and bold mark–marking techniques like graffiti. Two of his works will be in the sale, one them Movement No. 28, a black-and-white acrylic on canvas piece from 2003, estimated between $40,000–55,000.

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Viyé Diba is a Senegalese-born artist known for his use of local materials like sand, traditional cotton fabric, and scraps of printed fabric. His piece in the sale, Enchappement II, a mixed-media work estimated between $22,000–30,000, was previously on view in 2003 at the Fowler Museum of Cultural History in Los Angeles.
But the highlight of the sale may be the “Robben Island” series of lithographs that Nelson Mandela created between March and June of 2002, documenting the anti-Apartheid leader's incarceration. Estimated between $32,000-48,000, the body of work is composed of six hand-printed colored prints containing images he found meaningful at the time, ranging from a barred prison window to a lighthouse, a harbor, and a church. There is also a more literal print of a letter explaining his motivations.
This auction comes on the heels of Bonhams' sale of a flag flown at Mandela’s May 10, 1994, inauguration and subsequently signed by the former president together with his successors Thabo Mbeki and Frederik Willem de Klerk. An anonymous London–based South African businessman purchased the flag for an undisclosed amount before Bonhams could put it up for auction. The sale of the flag, which had carried an estimate of £10,000–£15,000 ($16,000–$24,000), was made with the agreement that it would eventually be returned to the South African government. The flag had previously been used in the possession of Major Louis de Waal, the pilot of the helicopter that had flown the flag over Mandela's inauguration ceremony.

2010

2010-03-09T19:08:00.000-05:00

Tim Gough

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By ALEX WILLIAMS

Published: October 2, 2009

THE Tipping Point, a store in Houston that calls itself a sneaker lifestyle shop, does not just sell a collection of differently colored rubber soles, along with books, music and apparel. No, its Web site declares, the store “curates” its merchandise.

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Hiroko Masuike for The New York Times

CHOOSY EATERS The Brooklyn Flea is selective about food vendors.

Promoters at Piano’s, a nightclub on the Lower East Side, announced on their Web site that they will “curate a night of Curious burlesque.”
Eric Demby, a founder of the Brooklyn Flea swap meet, does not hire vendors to serve grilled cheese sandwiches, pickles and tamales to hungry shoppers. He “personally curates the food stands,” according to New York magazine.
And to think, not so long ago, curators worked at museums.
The word “curate,” lofty and once rarely spoken outside exhibition corridors or British parishes, has become a fashionable code word among the aesthetically minded, who seem to paste it onto any activity that involves culling and selecting. In more print-centric times, the term of art was “edit” — as in a boutique edits its dress collections carefully. But now, among designers, disc jockeys, club promoters, bloggers and thrift-store owners, curate is code for “I have a discerning eye and great taste.”
Or more to the point, “I belong.”
For many who adopt the term, or bestow it on others, “it’s an innocent form of self-inflation,” said John H. McWhorter, a linguist and senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute. “You’re implying that there is some similarity between what you do and what someone with an advanced degree who works at a museum does.”
Indeed, these days, serving as a guest curator of a design blog, craft fair or department store is an honor. Last month, Scott Schuman, creator of The Sartorialist, a photo blog about street fashion, was invited to curate a pop-up shop at Barneys New York.
The term “curator” was not intended to be hyperbole, said Tom Kalenderian, the men’s fashion director for Barneys. Consulting closely with the photographer, a former fashion retailer, the store stocked just the right items to help shoppers achieve the elegant, eclectic look The Sartorialist regularly features on its site.
“It was precisely his eye” that made the store want to partner with him, Mr. Kalenderian said. “It was about the right shade of blue, about the cut, about the width of a lapel.”
Curtis Macdonald, a Brooklyn musician, also says that “curate” precisely describes his job: hiring bands for a local site.
“When given to opportunity to curate an evening of music, choosing the right bands is very similar to curating a museum,” Mr. Macdonald explained in an e-mail message. “Since I, the ‘curator,’ choose personnel based on a particular aesthetic, I am able to think of creative ways of presenting music beyond the traditional ‘call-up a venue and ask for a gig’ way of presenting.”
Indeed, invoking the word can be good for one’s image and business, said Karuna Tillmon James, 30, who has a background in fine-art photography and recently opened a consignment shop selling designer clothing in Brentwood, Calif. It’s name: Curate Couture.
“I knew that people in the know would gravitate toward it,” Ms. James said. The name signals that hers is not just another secondhand-clothing shop, she said, “selling stuff that was gross and old and had been crammed in trunks for years. It would have very specific pieces, selected purposefully.”
Summon the word “curate,” she added, and “people know you’re going to get it.”
Pretentious? Maybe. But it’s hardly unusual for members of less pedigreed professions to adopt the vernacular of more prestigious ones, said Geoffrey Nunberg, a linguist at the University of California, Berkeley.
For instance, he said, the term “associate” originally tended to connote a partner or a work colleague who shared “a position of authority with another,” as the Oxford English Dictionary puts it. The description has expanded to include employees at all levels of the organization, including sales and customer service associates.
In the case of curate, which the Oxford dictionary simply defines as “to look after and preserve,” its standard “museum” meaning dominated until the mid-’90s, when references to curating hotel libraries and CD-of-the-month clubs started to pop up in periodicals, said Jesse Sheidlower, a lexicographer with the Oxford English Dictionary.
After 2000, nontraditional usage of the word took off. And as it continues to grow in popularity, others must adopt it, too, or face the consequences. For example, if all the rival nightclub promoters are “curating” parties, Mr. Sheidlower said, you don’t want to be the one left “hosting” one.
On the Web, the word — and the concept — have taken particular hold, not a surprise given the Internet clutter. Etsy, the shopping Web site devoted to handmade and vintage goods, routinely brings in shelter magazine editors, fashion designers and design bloggers to serve as “guest curators.”
Even news-aggregator Web sites, like Tina Brown’s Daily Beast, promote themselves as cultural curators.
“The Daily Beast doesn’t aggregate,” Ms. Brown says in a statement on the site. “It sifts, sorts, and curates. We’re as much about what’s not there as what is.”
In fact, curatorship of photos culled from Flickr pages, or of knitted scarves on Etsy, can be an artistic pursuit in itself, said Virginia Postrel, a cultural critic and the author of “The Substance of Style.”
“Because there are more things to put together,” she said, “the juxtapositions become a big part of the interesting experience of those things. It is a creative activity in itself.”
The talent for choosing among countless objects is not very different from the work of collage artists — or top D.J.s, explained Scott Plagenhoef, the editor-in-chief of Pitchfork, the music Web site.
“Certainly things like structure, flow, revelation, juxtaposition and other elements of D.J.-ing and mixing are considered an art,” said Mr. Plagenhoef, who served as an unpaid “curator” for the All Tomorrow’s Parties music festival in England. “Remix culture is a form of creative expression in its own right.”
And what of actual museum curators themselves? Are they offended by the democratization of their title?
“Maybe the use of ‘curate’ to refer to extra-museum activities is just metaphorical, akin to the way we use the word ‘doctor’ as a verb,” Laura Hoptman, a senior curator at the New Museum of Contemporary Art in New York, wrote in an e-mail message. “If we doctor a script, we are only theoretically operating on it.”
“It doesn’t really bother me,” she said of the trend. “Actually, I’m hoping its popularity will spawn a reality television show — maybe ‘Top Curator’? ”

ARTIST STATMENT 2009

2010-03-07T03:17:00.000-05:00

b. Hiyme Brummett
1979. Texas
Artist Statement
I'm discovering my symbols and nature with care and solid ambition. I can't run from any thunderstorm or snake. There are many, many forms of art and ideals and I have plans to share them all in the course of my many years to come. I paint small, medium and large abstract landscapes. The source of my inspiration comes from experience, nature and romantic tradition. Symbols define and record my actions allowing me to always remember what line goes where and how its form produces the painting. I have taken the triangle and turned it into a mountain over and over again. Painting magical worlds; not always-and sometimes forgetting that my nature hides in grey caves. No matter what doubt I have about my symbols they remain unmovable. Creating a symbol embraces the nature around me and the nature I'm unable to explore now. Soon the missing stories will combine every piece of nature I will discover. The mountains,thunderstorms, snow storms, trees, oceans, rivers and grey wolves will be symbol paintings in solid concrete. Their sizes will vary as will their color, They will never break only age and hold stories for all who wish to view. My story for which I have lived for 30 years has been a tragic, grand and hurtful tour of things one can do in life. I have yet to sail around the world or faced a rattlesnake, but my point; is my character has been built from my experiences. A Painter. Nature. Mountains I have yet to see and mountains I have seen. When I paint I brush a line with care or with complete anger and other times with bold doubt. I can a rush a painting/drawing in an hour’s time or paint one painting over a few month period. This is my process patient, quick and caring. I have absolute faith in my hands. The thunderstorm I raced as a kid down an old dirt road near my grandmothers’ house had great speed. But I kept running with mighty feet and a hopeful idea: that I would win. I never beat the thunderstorm. I was trying to understand nature. Even though nature is always unpredictable. This is how my paintings should look when it rains.
Hiyme Brummett 2010 20 01

THE FIRE 2008

2010-03-05T08:37:00.004-05:00

SW2008

OLIVE OIL 2008

2010-03-05T08:32:00.003-05:00

sw olive oil 2008

UNTITLED

2010-03-04T17:53:00.000-05:00

I'M NOT FOUND ONLY
TO UNDERSTAND
TO LOVE

Hb10'

SWAN

2010-03-04T05:31:00.000-05:00

Bertha, The Child-Flower: A Raymond Roussel Illustration Contest

via A Journey Round My Skull by Will on 3/3/10

Raymond Roussel aged three, on a swan

I spent two hours tonight looking for a suitable illustration for "Bertha, The Child-Flower," a discarded manuscript passage from Raymond Roussel's Locus Solus (1914). Not finding one, I decided to have another strange contest (results of the first one):

The Raymond Roussel Illustration Contest

AVAGARDNER2010

2010-03-02T06:35:00.000-05:00

INSPIRING CROSSES IN MEXICO 2010

2010-02-24T03:37:00.000-05:00

"Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." Edgar Allen Poe
photo credit: SAS 2010

HANGING RED AND GREEN CROSS PAINTING 2010

2010-02-24T03:18:00.000-05:00

YELLOW AND GREY MOUNTAIN PAINTING 2010

2010-02-24T03:12:00.003-05:00

MOUNTAINS AND WATER 2009

2010-02-24T03:05:00.004-05:00

photo: samantha west 2009

REALIST 2010

2010-02-23T21:15:00.002-05:00

Skeleton Performing Zazen on Waves by Maruyama Okyo, c.1787, ink on paper, Daijoji Temple, Hyogo, Japan

PATAGONIA MOUNTAINS SPEAK ONLY GRAND POETRY 2010

2010-02-23T20:03:00.000-05:00

www.aspenexpeditions.com/p-south-america-251.html

ONE DAY I WILL HOLD MY BREATH AND WATCH AS I WALK CLOSER 2010

2010-02-23T19:53:00.001-05:00

Torres del Paine

My life as a wolf, by British naturalist who dared to infiltrate a pack in the wilderness.

2010-02-23T18:38:00.000-05:00

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1rdHu2/www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1243709/My-life-wolf-British-naturalist-dared-infiltrate-pack-wilderness.html

National Academy: An Invitational Exhibition of Contemporary American Art

2010-02-22T02:57:00.000-05:00

tired from no sleep or maybe to much. woke up at 6am.
THEN WENT HERE.

REMEMBER THE BIKE THAT KILLED YOUR STEPFATHER 2010 AND AN OLD BEACH HOUSE 2009

2010-02-22T02:44:00.001-05:00

CRACKERFARM SHOT HIYME BRUMMETT 2010

2010-02-22T02:09:00.001-05:00

TOMMY KEARNS PHOTOGRAPHER 2008

2010-02-22T02:06:00.000-05:00

studio 2009 and holding mountain 2010

2010-02-22T01:59:00.001-05:00

2010-02-21T11:03:00.001-05:00

a love peom

2009-06-21T22:38:00.001-04:00

take step.
knock the book
shelve over onto
the grand orchards
tell her

make her wish your hand was never there

give her troubles
all of the days
when she is sad
give her cold air

let her walk in the rain
all the time
she gets wet
and you bring
her nothing

over the street
lamp she swings.
under he is
ready to catch her
he lets her fall.

©HIYME BRUMMETT 02 21 10

rain and rainy day

2009-06-16T16:54:00.001-04:00

anger as the thunderstorm hits an ocean floor.
damn your in a mood the people yell.
why so much tension when i speak.
to hurt is pain. to pain is to hurt. does your face really matter
when I'm in this place.
writing a book about nature and the effects weather has on a warm white piece of paper.
in the snow it might freeze in the rain it might rip and crumble and in the sun it might burn or get really hot.
does it effect the nature of the drawing. of course.
does one still write a book. maybe but photos of tree frogs and blackberries from those days.
i picked green snap peas as a kid in the summer at my grandmothers house. the hardest job i did then. my days as a kid were rough. but i learned how to work but i also learned how to manipulate my ways around it. arms were broken. but hey sometimes its days like this that make better days in cloudy rushes.

©Hb2010

untitled

2009-06-14T22:02:00.001-04:00

never once, never once, and fool roll.
thought about riding motorcycles for awhile.
changed my mind.
young at heart and wild to live.

©Hb10

river south

2009-06-14T02:23:00.001-04:00

i was writing a letter and it said this:
i should not open a snakes mouth without running forward.
when the mouth is open i will talk to him and tell him
that as a kid i remember seeing him twisting past me through the old
river down south. black in color.
it never struck at me but clearly had only desire for water.
around facing the shore i noticed trees and later noticed i had been
bitten.
©Hb10

to come

2009-06-14T01:59:00.000-04:00

ideas and rewards to that in which i have no clue as to how i should write about nature but will and will write only for nature.

writings

2009-06-14T01:49:00.001-04:00

poems about nature.

stepchildhiyme

MARIOTORRESPHOTOGRAPHY 2011

UNTITLED YEAR 2010

INVENTORY MAGAZINE issue 3 fall/winter 2010

MARIO NICHOLAS TORRES

POEM #081055

POEM #346

woman. thank you. goodnight

TALKED FOR DAYS AT NINE YEARS OLD

BIO NUMBER # 233

TALKED FOR DAYS AT NINE YEARS OLD

http://jerichoditch.com/future.html

AFRICAN ARTIST

monday, 28 june 2010

Lawren Stewart Harris (1885 - 1970)

-DYLAN THOMAS

POEM #18

stepchildhiyme: working/\classnyc

POEM

POEMS FOR WIND

SPANISH where i happen to be. Hb10"

Spanish Word of the Day Archive Thursday May 13, 2010

©untitled 050310

050610

RAIN 050310

ADREAMWITHINADREAM edgar allan poe

LOSTKINDOMSOFAFRICA

MY POP RIP 1996 LOVE ALWAYS jaime walter brummett-o'pry 2010

BODEGA FLOWERS WINTER TO SPRING Hb2010

TRARGIC HARD 2007

PERU PAINTING

'ONE TON WANTON' ART OPENING x MICHAEL FENSTER APRIL 3RD, 2010

CROSSES HOLY AND UNHOLY 2009-2010

gray wolf 2010

2010

2010

2010

SHE IS A WARRIOR ⓒHb 03162010- GIFT TO MARIO TORRES PHOTOGRAPHER -

ⓒUNTITLEDUPSIDEDOWNTHOUGHT 08'/09'

ⓒSTILLTHINKINGSTUDIO 08'/09'

ⓒTHINKINGSTUDIO 08'/09'

ⓒSTUDIO 3 08'/09'

-untitiled- 2009 SARAH ASHLEY SIMMONS

-old- 07.07.09

SKETCH FOR -secretinspiration- PAINTINGS - untitiled 03.15.2010

Zulu, Nongoma region, South Africa Thinsana clan Apron, obheshwana/isigege 1940’s glass beads, cotton thread worn by young girls and old mem

Bwiti Photographs by Donald Mouboga (Gabon)

africanartists.blogspot.com/2010

Thursday, 11 March 2010

africanartists.blogspot.com/2010

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

Bill Traylor, American, about 1854-1949

AFRICA 2010 - PAY ATTENTION

Art by Mandela and African Artists Heads to Bonhams

By Amber Vilas

2010

ARTIST STATMENT 2009

THE FIRE 2008

OLIVE OIL 2008

UNTITLED

SWAN

AVAGARDNER2010

INSPIRING CROSSES IN MEXICO 2010

HANGING RED AND GREEN CROSS PAINTING 2010

YELLOW AND GREY MOUNTAIN PAINTING 2010

MOUNTAINS AND WATER 2009

REALIST 2010

PATAGONIA MOUNTAINS SPEAK ONLY GRAND POETRY 2010

ONE DAY I WILL HOLD MY BREATH AND WATCH AS I WALK CLOSER 2010

My life as a wolf, by British naturalist who dared to infiltrate a pack in the wilderness.

National Academy: An Invitational Exhibition of Contemporary American Art

REMEMBER THE BIKE THAT KILLED YOUR STEPFATHER 2010 AND AN OLD BEACH HOUSE 2009

CRACKERFARM SHOT HIYME BRUMMETT 2010

TOMMY KEARNS PHOTOGRAPHER 2008

studio 2009 and holding mountain 2010

©paper wolf Hb2008

a love peom

rain and rainy day

untitled

river south

Spanish Word of the Day Archive
Thursday May 13, 2010