Friday, March 12, 2010

Change of pace: a poem

Here's a poem I wrote this week in response to prompt: consider a flower. Fathom it deeply. Write a poem about becoming congruent.

The Purple One

The flower doesn't know
that I don't know anything
about the flower.

that last fall the PTA at Middle School 447
sold bulbs to raise money.
That the purple crocus that came up yesterday
was part of an assortment of lots of bulbs
to grow flowers with names I do not know
because I've never put bulbs in a garden before.
I saw the pictures in the fundraising catalog:
the bland little yellow one and
the thrilling little blue one that looks like tiny clusters of grapes
that I recognized: I had seen it before
somewhere in the neighborhood.
They all came in a box that held little bags
on which were printed inscrutable instructions.

Plant three inches deep
and two inches apart
with the point facing...
I don't remember.

The instructions filled me with doubt.
I told myself these
are not things I know,
are not like a subway map
are not like a computer
are not like bike repair.

These were vague and colloquial, like
an old man chewing something that grew in the earth and holding something to work the earth and wearing the clothes that you wear to work the earth and saying to me

When I was three,
I ran without clothes
in my grandmother's summer garden.
She told me
that the purple vine climbing the archway was wisteria,
and the delicate tree with spindly red leaves like old lady hands was a Japanese Maple
and the rhododendrons were the ones lining the walk with their extravagant old-fashioned blooms and smooth sensible oval leaves.
There were some things that my grandmother loved purely, and I knew that as she walked
me through her garden.

Under three inches of scrap-filled New York yard dirt,
the blue cluster of grapes and the purple crocus and the little yellow one
and some big pink ones I think are coming up later in the spring,
did they tell themselves stories of not knowing what was above the dirt? Of struggle
to get there, to push aside gum wrappers and dirty snow piled on top of the
mulch the Parks Department makes from abandoned Christmas trees?
Did they tell each other Grow!? Grow up!

No. They just know
where up is,
and grow the way
they are pointed,
the only way they can
to see the guy
that doesn't think
he knows

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Thinking about thriving

This one started out with the following prompt: make a self portrait that shows you in a thriving state, but then it went somewhere else. It is more about the contemplation of thriving than of thriving itself. Regardless, here's the video.

2010 Feb thinking about thiving from Joshua Seiden on Vimeo.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

A quick journal entry...

Some more thoughts about the relationship between fear and creation and the creative urge. Inspired by David Whyte's "The Heart Aroused."

A Journal Entry from Joshua Seiden on Vimeo.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

Remembering Bo

I was sad to hear yesterday that Bo died. Bo, the wonderful cocker-pit who belonged to my friend Jamie was one of a kind.

On Memorial Day weekend in 2006 (I think), we met Jamie and his future wife Anja at a Friendly's near Turner's Falls Mass. As Bo sat outside, we watched everyone walk past our window and check her out. Here's a video of the procession.

Memorial Day at Friendly's with Bo from Joshua Seiden on Vimeo.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Daily Sky for January 27 and 28, 2010 (plus bonus!)

A couple of Daily Sky videos plus a bonus video of the falling snow coating my beloved Rudge Whitworth. Jan 27, Jan 28, Snow+Rudge.

A thin line between surviving and thriving

Here is a short video I made about the fear and wonder of making art. (I'm trying something new by embedding the Vimeo version of the movie below.)

The music is Youth Brigade and the video is from the movie Another State of Mind.

The brave diver's name is Craig Lesser.

A Thin Line Between Surviving and Thriving from Joshua Seiden on Vimeo.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Daily Sky for January 26, 2010

Here's what the sky looked like for a few moments this afternoon.

Daily Sky for January 15, 2010

Trying something new. I end up taking lots of pictures and movies of the sky. Instead of editing them together into some kind of narrative, I'm just going to try to share them regularly. Here's the first, a shot of the sky reflected in the glass window of a conference room. Look for steam billowing from the chimney.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Snowy evening

I just found this set of images from the winter of 2008-2009. Snowy nights have become so rare in NY. It's special now when we get a night like this one.

Click here to watch.