Daily Archives: March 30, 2012

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Figures of Grace

I normally write about my own photography here on the blog, but occasionally I write about other things of photographic or artistic interest.  So it is now, as I’m writing about one of the biggest events in New York’s photographic calendar: the annual Photography Show put on by the Association of International Photography Art Dealers (AIPAD).
Instead of going all around to dozens of different galleries, they’re all here under one roof.  This year’s event features 75 galleries from around the world, from Boston to Beijing to Buenos Aires, and runs from now through Sunday, April 1 at the Park Avenue Armory, at Park Avenue and East 67 Street in Manhattan.
When I first attended this show in the mid or late 1990’s, it was held on two floors at the New York Hilton in midtown.  I can still remember how I was in a daze from looking at so…

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ram H singhal

“I Am Not Old”
I am not old.. she said
I am rare

I am the standing ovation
at the end of the play

I am the retrospective
of my life
as art

I am the hours
connected like dots
into good sense

I am the fullness
of existing

you think I am waiting to die
but I am waiting to be found

I am a treasure
I am a map
these wrinkles are imprints
of my journey

ask me
anything.

(c)  Samantha Reynolds

Good and God’s morning …..
reading this poem of great wisdom …..
and thinking are not we like a football ?….
eternity is dancing on eternity like football….or dance of time on the canvas of timelessness ……weathering of leather is mark of long match …..purpose of the dance is to find true identity …..beyond creation beyond destruction ….so old outside and…

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Poetry On Demand

As I walk my garden row there becomes in me a question of if I am living for solitude or servitude.
I toil for my daily mile and become satisfied with none of the paths I find.

I desire to hear a soothing voice in my own head, and to that aspiration and bar-stool I continually pull up a seat.

Never mind my acquaintances, quotations, and the random folks I meet along my solemn walks of this journey.

I am my solitude
I am the logger on a forbidden mountainside chopping for my fortune.

There is a calming vibe, and a release, once you shut off the constant stream of society and their morose reality.

I shut my ears and unplug the power cord.
I indulge in my own sounds and the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Silence is a definition that is situational and pliable as the…

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