Frank Gehry had an exhibition of cardboard furniture at LACMA in LA in 1972. There was a photo of the exhibit in the LA Times, along with an impossible to ignore need to see it. It wasn’t an understood or defined need. The furniture was 90 miles away in a borrowed car with a 17 year olds’ new driver’s license and friends that stared blankly at the suggestion. They would be glad to go for a concert, but for furniture? And the furniture was so worth it: cardboard that was far outside the realm of the conventional.

Concrete as an obsession: Concrete has no class connotations, is strong, organic, bold, immense, inorganic, polished, coarse, able to span bridges and to be shaped into tiny objects. Overpasses, sidewalks, buldings, furniture, sculpture, jewelry.

Nomadism: intentional and as a twig in a storm-tossed sea. Themes of restlessness, upheaval, disruption and also of adaptability and challenge. Change…the desire for fullness, new experiences, and an all-encompassing, overwhelming desire to bring physicality to an idea of a specific three-dimensional object. Design as the theme: clothing, flowers, furniture, sculpture, mosaics. An ongoing struggle between function and non. It’s critical to have function in this world of unnecessary junk and it’s an extreme feeling of freedom to create something that does not have to function. Minimalism ->Universality->

Childhood memories of meticulously drawing small details of tiny interlocking parts. It was so incredibly satisfying both to do it, and to see the results when they were finished. Each tiny part in its own perfect place on the path to mosaics. They’re solid and fragile, natural and artificial, a statement about the resiliency and the strength of the earth. Mosaics are so much color and light. They can tell a story that might need to be told, if only for the maker’s sanity. It can be a way of working out the frustrations, new thoughts and ideas that are bursting out of one’s skin. It’s the fitting together of the small pieces to find as close to the perfect whole as can be imagined in that particular time and place.

Pushing boundaries, experimentation leads to the discovery of bottomless pits and soaring light. Intimate knowledge redefines an inherent concept of freedom and drives life that has had to learn to appreciate every small miracle.

SHOWS/EXHIBITIONS

Annual Dia de los Muertos Group Show: Ventura, CA 1992-5

Outdoor Sculpture Exhibit: Charro Grande, CA:  1994

Math Ideas/ CCA Cafe: Oakland, CA 2003

Contemporizing the Organic/ CCA Timken Gallery: Oakland, CA 2005

Through the Woods/Red Ink Gallery: San Francisco, CA 2006

Uptown Art Stroll: San Antonio, TX 2006, 2007

Majestic Ranch Arts Foundation: Bourne, TX 2008

Inspire Fine Art School: San Antonio, TX 2008

East Bay Open Studio Tour: Emeryville, CA 2009

In the bitter chill of that early spring, it appeared that all life forms had ceased; from the heaven’s blue to the underground’s black ice terrain, the natural and supernatural had come to a halt; in those dark three days, the world was without the music of human laughter, devoid of divine manifestations such as the sighting of an angel’s wing or a lame man leaping with joy…the heavy drapery of sorrow and mourning hung over the souls of His beloved followers; even his skeptical neighbors, cynical relatives, and arch enemies could not enjoy their mockery and revenge against a God they both feared and rejected.

The people again sat in great darkness; even those whom he had touched and healed and broke bread with; for the bridegroom was gone, and there was no wedding without him. Once again they were in captivity as if the star had never appeared to the magi and the shepherd; as if Lazarus had not been raised from the dead after all. The real purpose for rebirth and the true meaning of scriptures eluded even the most enlightened in those three days of foreboding.  Though the darkest parts of  his intense and seemingly surreal crucifixion were unbeknown to all save the Christ and His Father, his disciples could not endure the grave images of his contorted features, crimson tears and mangled bruised body hanging on that crude tree, utterly weakened and defeated (so they thought) by death.

Here they were, the big strong fishermen and the disciple whom  He loved, crying like babies in the night; their hearts sinking into them like their own boats slipping into the cold murky abyss. Why hadn’t he stood up to our leaders; those viperous snakes who plotted to kill him and entrap him with their clever words?

Peter in his flailing and anger over the injustice of it all, sickened by his own  cowardliness, and vain boasting, sank to despair, as he nearly did when walking on the waters. Mary the mother of  Jesus, though broken in heart opened her arms out to John, treasuring in her heart and revering the exhortations of her young man as he looked down at her from the cross, with eyes of compassion and gratitude. Woman, behold your son.”

There was always room at Mary’s inn, for a weary traveler, or  a pregnant young girl full of wonder and fear.

     Early on the first day of the week Mary was the first to see the stone rolled away, and the tomb empty. After summoning Peter and John to come back and witness this heart thundering moment with her and after they left her there to go back to their lives, Mary waited, determined not to leave without knowing where they placed him. Even the angels in their brilliant white, did not detour or intimidate her; for such was her longing and thirst for her brother and such was her insistence that she see him again and be near him dead or alive. She had sat transfixed and enthralled at his feet, anointing him with perfume and her own tears, as she heard about God’s forgiveness; now as she turned from angels, her search for truth was rewarded as the risen Lord appeared to her. She knew him not at first sight, yet she again asked the question, that no one had been able to answer.

            He called her by name, and she knew Him. She cried out with the strands of joy that knew no bounds. “Rabonni!”  How she longed to feel his strong embrace, his sacred heart beating against her own. He told her that she must not hold onto him ; He, who was no longer human and forever divine. He must go now and return to His Father and he told her to tell the others.” Go to my brothers and tell them I am returning to my Father and to your Father!”

Cynthia Lamanna may be reached at cynthialamanna@yahoo.com

Chiyo Miyashita’s Artist Statement

Artists may have freedom, but they may not. They can create their art by struggling for their freedom. I wish I had wings and were free from the burden of my flesh, and I am wondering what the world would look like if I could see from beyond space and time. But the reality is that we are not free from gravity and we cannot overcome space and time in the blink of an eye.

I’ve been looking for images of landscapes in which there are a mixture of memories of where I used to be, an awareness of where I am now, and longing for where I want to be.

I cherish and grow these seeds of images of landscapes which are not yet visible. It’s like a line of poetry, a fragment of story, an unfinished song. Then I try to make it visible to share with you. I hope my works will be clues to weave your own story which is a mixture of your memories and imagination.

About the “Wandering Fox” series

This is my latest series, just born this February. Fox is wandering in a field or a village to find something which even she is not sure about. It could be a comfortable lair, her dearest, or she might want to go back to her childhood… The viewers may create their own story. Inspired by Japanese picture scrolls, I try to make a kind of picture book without words. I hope you enjoy floating in your imagination.

Chiyo Miyashita

www.chiyoart.com

Chiyo Miyashita may be reached through her website or at chiyo@chiyoart.com

Mission Statement for Mason’s Road

Mason’s Road is an online literary journal sponsored by Fairfield University’s MFA in Creative Writing and a collaborative effort among graduate students in the program. We are emerging writers of all ages and in all stages of our writing careers, who come together twice a year for our residencies at Enders Island, off the coast of Mystic, Connecticut, where we discuss and practice the writing craft. Mason’s Island Road is the final stretch that leads us to Enders.

Mason’s Road is a place but it is also a time; like any journey, it provides a “liminality, ” or period of transition. We hope you will join us on this road as we search to better understand our craft by exploring thought, sound, and sight through words, audio, and art. Like masons who labor to piece together their work – finding the right combination of stone, rock, and mortar to create something that will last and survive the test of time – we as writers are first and foremost craftspeople. We must arrange and rearrange words until we get them right. Toward that end, we seek writing that teaches us the basics as well as the subtleties of the writing craft, writing that has been polished through hard labor and industrious practice – writing that is honest, and earnest, and strong.

To honor this goal, each issue of Mason’s Road will be dedicated to a particular aspect of the writing craft. For our inaugural issue, we are accepting submissions of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, and drama that showcase exemplary or innovative uses of “voice” or “persona.” In upcoming issues, we may focus on dialogue or metaphors or rhythm or beginnings or endings, whatever our staff and our readers would like to learn more about. And we will be turning to the international writing community – to emerging and established writers – to travel with us down Mason’s Road to the threshold of inspiration.

———
Call for Submissions

Mason’s Road is published twice a year. We currently have a rolling, blind submissions policy and are accepting work in fiction, poetry, creative non-fiction, drama (stage or screen), and art from both emerging and established writers and artists.

For our inaugural issue, we are accepting submissions that showcase exemplary or innovative uses of “voice” or “persona.” While submissions are accepted on a rolling basis, the cut-off date for this first issue is May 15, 2010. Please submit only once in a genre for each issue, and limit prose to 9,000 words, poetry to 5 poems, and visual art to 5-10 pieces (must be a series). For creative non-fiction, we accept personal essays or memoir excerpts, not book reviews, critiques or other non-fiction.

All work should be sent to <mfajournal( at)fairfield. edu> (replace (at) with @). Your name, address, phone number, e-mail address, and title of your work must be in the body of your e-mail. The subject line should identify the genre and title of work (i.e., POETRY – “The Road”), and every page of your work should include the Title in the footer or header, but NOT your name or any other identification.

Poetry, drama, and prose submissions must be sent as a Word (.doc) or rich-text format (.rtf) file. Art submissions must be sent as a web-ready, *.jpg file. Any files that do not adhere to these guidelines will not be considered.

Mason’s Road does not accept previously published work. Simultaneous submissions are accepted as long as they are indicated as such and we are notified immediately upon acceptance elsewhere. All published work will be archived online, and after publication all rights revert back to the author/artist. We currently do not pay contributors, but we plan to hold annual contests with monetary prizes of $200-$500 for which only contributors will be eligible.

21st Century Howlers: A New Generation Jazz and Blues Anthology edited by Tyehimba Jess, Duriel E. Harris and Patricia Smith.

In the past ten to twenty years, a new generation of poets has emerged that seeks to expand and deepen the call-and-response tradition of Jazz and Blues music into the 21st century. Many of these poets may have not experienced a time when Blues or Jazz were the country’s common vernacular or were played with any heavy rotation on their local radio stations.

As we quickly approach the centennial of Jazz and Blues, this anthology seeks to gather the voices of a new generation of Howlers: those poets whose work embodies or addresses the musical traditions of Jazz and Blues, and who began actively publishing no earlier than 1995. Editors are particularly interested in innovative approaches, reinterpretations, and engagements with the contemporary socio-historical moment and/or Jazz and Blues scene. Each poet featured in the anthology will provide a short commentary or anecdote on the ways Blues and/or Jazz have affected their writing.

E-mails should contain a cover letter and submission as one attachment in Microsoft Word. Previously published work must be acknowledged in the cover letter. Submissions will be taken on an ongoing basis until September 1, 2010, c/o <21stHowlers( at)gmail. com> (replace (at) with @)

ANTHOLOGY. Try this on for size. Take these six words—Anteros, crippled,
spindles, stairwell, threshold, and whirligig—and incorporate them into a poem for possible inclusion in an exciting and daring anthology.

There are no minimum or maximum length requirements for individual poems. We, however, have a three-poem limit for submissions. The only requirement is that you incorporate all six words into one poem. We are most interested in fresh and surprising poems that seamlessly integrate the list words.

Submissions will only be accepted via e-mail. Please e-mail submissions to:

<thelistanthology( at)gmail. com> (replace (at) with @) by May 15, 2010.

Please visit www.kennesaw. edu/thelistanthology for more information.

Call for Submissions: H.O.D

H.O.D. (A Handful Of Dust) is seeking poetry and artwork for its first
issue debuting Summer 2010.
http://hofd. wordpress. com/

While H.O.D. has no theme or limits, its
editor would like to see more work that is grounded in grit-lit.
Submit 3-5 poems and a cover letter in the body of an e-mail to

<h.o.d.submissions( at)gmail. com> (replace (at) with @)

Check out http://hofd. wordpress. com for further guidelines.