Eliza Holliday Letterist.com

Friday, February 12, 2010

Two pieces in the 2010 Exploration show in Chicago this year...one is Silver Trees the wallhanging below and a page from "in You River step once same only the can"...my out-of-orthography book, where every page is a non-linear journal entry...over fifty pages!
Silver Trees was purchased in the name of a patron for the Newberry Collection!

4 comments:

Lisa HoltzmanFebruary 12, 2010 at 8:05 PM
Your book looks absolutely beautiful!
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Jane FarrFebruary 16, 2010 at 9:59 AM
Beautiful work! I hope to get up to Chicago to see this show before it closes.
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SKIZOMay 8, 2010 at 11:00 AM
Fabulous
Work
good
creations
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MaryMay 13, 2010 at 4:24 AM
I was visiting Martha Lever this morning and she showed some paste papers and left a link to your video, which led me here. :)

So glad I followed it - you work is beautiful.
I have always loved words - you make them art!!

I'll be back to explore more!

Blessings!
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A Speech to the Garden Club of America

Thank you. I’m glad to know we’re friends, of course;
There are so many outcomes that are worse.
But I must add I’m sorry for getting here
By a sustained explosion through the air,
Burning the world in fact to rise much higher
Than we should go. The world may end in fire
As prophesied—our world! We speak of it
As “fuel” while we burn it in our fit
Of temporary progress, digging up
An antique dark-held luster to corrupt
The present light with smokes and smudges, poison
To outlast time and shatter comprehension.
Burning the world to live in it is wrong,
As wrong as to make war to get along
And be at peace, to falsify the land
By sciences of greed, or by demand
For food that’s fast or cheap to falsify
The body’s health and pleasure—don’t ask why.
But why not play it cool? Why not survive
By Nature’s laws that still keep us alive?
Let us enlighten, then, our earthly burdens
By going back to school, this time in gardens
That burn no hotter than the summer day.
By birth and growth, ripeness, death and decay,
By goods that bind us to all living things,
Life of our life, the garden lives and sings.
The Wheel of Life, delight, the fact of wonder,
Contemporary light, work, sweat, and hunger
Bring food to table, food to cellar shelves.
A creature of the surface, like ourselves,
The garden lives by the immortal Wheel
That turns in place, year after year, to heal
It whole. Unlike our economic pyre<
That draws from ancient rock a fossil fire,
An anti-life of radiance and fume
That burns as power and remains as doom,
The garden delves no deeper than its roots
And lifts no higher than its leaves and fruits.