when we were young
and time was free,
our skin danced in bronze
crafted by sunlight’s constancy
our footsteps whispered
in fields of green and the distance
between us was a heartbeat,
caught in the hum of laughter
about something silly, I’m sure,
but now the reason is gone
as much as who we were,
once—when summer knew us best
for all I know now is heat,
how to harness it by air conditioning,
while seconds rise like goosebumps
to steal the rest of youth away
Thank you, Alexis, for submitting your works to be featured on Burning House Press! You mentioned in our email exchange that you don’t work in themes or projects, rather that the images arise in their own time – the same goes for the works’ titles. Is chance a huge factor in your photographic process?
Thank you, it’s my pleasure!
It depends what you mean by “chance”, if you mean events that happen by forces that are beyond the control of the individual consciousness then yes, chance is very important. My practice is deeply connected with this surrendering to the flow of life; this is why I mostly conceive photographs as happenings rather than doings. Today I wrote this small note which feels relevant to this question: Creativity is not a doing, it is an alignment with the cosmic unfolding, in which there is no separate doer. Continue reading “‘Variations of Presence’ – an interview with photographer Alexis Vasilikos”
Coach House Series by Paul Hawkins
cut-up text
medium: mixed media on found card
dimensions: various
date: 2016
A woman learns when she is young
That all of her is a weapon
Against a world that is determined
To mould her softness into something
Convenient, hard, eventually,
a disappearance.
I can’t remember the first time I saw Sharon’s art. The more conversations we have now, the more I find out that I’ve known her works before knowing they were hers.
And I’ve not only known them, I’ve loved them from the doubled distance of outsider and audience. I remember engaging with the sculptural, interactive pieces of ‘Portable Sensors’ back in 2013, a difficult year as I was sure I would never recover from returning to a country that took the concept of ‘home’ away from me. The angry noises that screamed out of these buzz wire kits were relieving; contained electrical protests to match the claustrophobia I felt about my geographical predicament. Continue reading “Talking Stories with Sharon Chin”
1. ‘a sigh, a sorrow, a suspicious mind’
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