Clay Studio

I dislike working in clay during the winter. My studio is cold. It rarely gets above 50 degrees in the weather we are having right now. I’m trying to do a commission of several platters. They keep cracking and just falling apart.

Platters

Claystudio

Delmas Howe show in New York

When I first moved to New Mexico, I ended up with strange invitation (a cute boy I met in the tubs at Faywood Hot Springs) to a show called “The Stations of the Cross” in Truth or Consequences — not a place you could ever imagine a show like this. The show was staged in Joe Waldrum’s new gallery/studio space — a restored warehouse in downtown. It was an incredible show, the backdrop of the paintings was of of the New York piers in the 1970’s, the subject was AIDS, in the context of suffering and the martyr. It was Delmas’s response to the AIDS crises. I have seen no other more powerful visual response to what the AIDS epidemic has done to the queer community than this show. I hope you see it. Check out Delmas Howe’s website here.

Painting05

Painting06

STATIONS: A GAY PASSION BY DELMAS HOWE
March 13 - April 21, 2007
Opening Reception: Tuesday, March 13, 6 - 9pm
_____________________
Tuesday, April 3, 2007, 7 - 9pm at the Leslie/Lohman Gallery ($5 suggested donation)
AN EVENING WITH DELMAS HOWE

The Leslie/Lohman Gallery at the
LESLIE/LOHMAN GAY ART FOUNDATION
26 Wooster Street
New York, NY 10013
(between Canal and Grand)

Subway
N or R to Canal (Broadway & Canal) then walk West to Wooster (3 blocks) and North 3/4 of a block.
E to Canal (6th Ave & Canal) then walk East to Wooster (2 blocks) and North 3/4 of a block.

Contact
Tel: 212-431-2609
Fax: 212-431-2666

E-mail: LLDirector@earthlink.net
Website: http://www.leslielohman.org
Hours

Tue - Sat, 12 Noon - 6 PM
Closed: Sun, Mon, and all major holidays and between shows
(check “Upcoming Exhibitions & Events”)
(other times call for appointment)

The Dead

“Generous tears filled Gabriel’s eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman, but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself, which these dead had one time reared and lived in, was dissolving and dwindling.

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.”
James Joyce — “The Dead”
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Christmas Card

The Snow Man

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Genetic Art

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Working on a new series of genetic art, using an open source program called Kandid, a genetic art project I am working with a transparent Voroni algorithim