Art by RUBYSPAM

ARTIST BIO
RUBYSPAM is a mixed media artist who works with oil and acrylic paint infused with wine, whiskey, coffee, balsamic vinegar and fruit and vegetable stains. She lives and works in the San Francisco Bay area and originally immigrated from Canada where she earned her BFA from the Ontario Collage of Art and Design and her business certificate through St. Clair College. She has been reviewed by SF Weekly, ArtBusiness.com and just recently the front page of The Food and Wine section in the San Francisco Chronicle.

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To purchase this artwork or to see more of the artist’s work, visit her website at http://www.rubyspamart.com/
OR contact the artist by email at rubyspam@gmail.com.

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Poetry by Michael E. Swain

Black Claws Splatter

Windows of an exiguous pupil pique hands to build temples out of smoke, gouging out trunks to pack the past away at the end of a bayonet. The conveyor belts run like bees in a jar, selling flashes of hope of a future with legs to stand on. And the Cicatrice’s that flows with the wine through this prism known for its teeth.

Frothing; Kicking and scratching at the blind mans feet, send the ravens forth till the crops are all barren and limbless sacrifices upon the alter of the moon. Tumultuous corpulence risen to glide above all others, shitting faces on the backs of the weary. Woes sing like prayers as they burst into empty galaxies surrounded by black holes and cheer.

Whispers of teeth that know like knaw like the nails, a shovel to best the most cunning of flowers. Chattering tears run down the tendons of terrible thoughts that gently rock you to sleep.

Black splatters rupture branch’s under the archway, lights drip as I stumble backwards. I thought it was a dream but the evidence lay scattered. A throat filled with razors, guts of needles. A glint that watch’s the eye, where did i put my phone, I guess ill make one instead.

Rubble on my focus, debris of the gaze of this fucking disingenuous maze. Before what that silhouette to the point, cracked hands and blood spilling noise out of a vase. Trumpets raised clowns to grace seared and hardened flecks sink deep retreating until the rocks are all gone all the corners out of sight.

Michael Swain may be reached at mswain1984@gmail.com.

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Art by Cathy Lu

Lu received a master’s degree in sculpture from the San Francisco Art Institute in 2010. Her work has been exhibited throughout the United States.

About the artwork:

“In the broadest sense, identity is made of two parts: what we think of ourselves, and what others think of us. Our sense of self is dependent on the society that surrounds us. History has already coded our experiences based on our physical bodies through race, gender, skin color, and other attributes, and it is those interactions that are vital in forming identity. We locate ourselves in relation to those around us: as male or female, Chinese or American, and so forth. Our way of defining ourselves is disjointed, each piece composed of different, and oftentimes conflicting, experiences and interactions. For better or worse, we are dependent on each of these fragmented experiences, incomplete without them.”

– Cathy Lu

Website: www.cathyclu.com

Contact: cathyclu@gmail.com

Art Installation by Dana Hemenway

About this work:

Wall Covering, site-specific installation, 2010
Artificial leaves, florescent spray paint, screws, spacers, Velcro
Walls 1 & 2: 12’h X 15.5’w X 3”d
Wall 3: 11’ 6”h X 15’w X 3”d
Wall 4: 8’ 3”h X 15’w X 3”d

Contact: dana.hemenway@gmail.com

Dana Hemenway lives and works out of San Francisco, California. Click here to see the artist’s current projects.

Paintings by Geoffrey Kington

Kington is currently living and working in  San Francisco, California. He appreciates the spontaneity and spiritual elements associated with drawing and painting. He states, ” I want my art to be more than merely aesthetic. So I believe this takes thinking and looking for a direction, setting goals and making plans, but still allowing room for the accident.”

E-mail gkington56@gmail.com for more information.

Poetry by Harmony Riedman

The Locksmith

There is a box
where none of this exists.
But don’t just turn around,
you wouldn’t resist That sound will seem
Left unfinished, undrawn, undug, undream,
Nothing Upside down looking
For the ground
Well it’s unbound; unseen

Listen, if you are still alive; before the night arrives
it’s time you knew; once it comes
it will leave you,
With me unlocked.

Pulling a plastic key out of your pocket-
It’s not to this.

Harmony Riedman  is a student at UC Berkeley in California, and would appreciate feedback on her poetry at harmonyriedman@hotmail.com.

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Artwork by Adele Crawford

“My love of the photograph began at a very young age, when I made my first album from loose family photos.  At that moment I became a passionate collector and interpreter of ephemera.  I collect what was once personal.  I activate stories through my creative process of dissection/alteration/reconfiguration.”

To see more of the artist’s work, visit her website at http://www.adelecrawford.com/index.php

OR contact the artist by email at adelecrawford@comcast.net

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