Karinaland River

Karinaland River     The  Karinaland River  blog you are reading at this moment came about by accident. A year ago, my cello teacher Bob Ng took beautiful and evocative b&w stills of the Memorial Mural. Then to my surprise, he set up this blog with the memorial stills as a platform for me to continue and write:  https://blmmuralproject.blogspot.com/ Initially I was nervous. Would I be able to find the right kind of voice for it? As soon as I started, it easily flowed to my surprise. A new way of writing. I called it my  blog adventure , allowing for the innate playfulness and curiosity which have been my lifelong companions. In my view, life wants to express itself, live itself ­– like a river. Conceiving the blog as a  River  helped.    Here my life’s different themes & stories could perhaps organically interweave into one stream.  Last fall the daily short entries changed to bi-weekly stories, a nd I started using visuals for each entry.   A few months ago, we renamed the blo

  One of my heroes,  Joseph Beuys ( 1921 – 1986), a German artist and teacher  at the Düsseldorf Academy of Art,  used to say:  “To make people free is the aim of art, therefore art for me is the science of freedom.” A s a rebellious teenager  I was greatly influenced by him.   – morning snack – In the 1960's, Beuys also famously said:  “The act of peeling a potato can be a work of art if it is a conscious act.”   For me art is about transformation. As artist we are   shapeshifters   on all levels and fronts,   reshaping the conditions, thinking and structures that dominate our lives and societies.   This means we have to be daring, courageous, and visionary. As well as  awake  and  committed, ready to resist, always leery of brainwashing, norming, othering. Ready to celebrate every millimeter of unique aliveness and beauty! And it is our responsibility to find and nurture that true spark of freedom at our core.       America seems to be bent on taking most freedom and human rights

  Whoever grew up with balmy summer nights, will never forget, will always be longing for them.  Laue Sommernächte .   I turn nostalgic remembering nights of that kind. Whenever I get to experience them – mostly outside of the San Francisco Bay Area – or in Europe, at my sister’s, brother’s, or friends’ balconies leisurely eating outdoors, talking till late night, taking a stroll, letting the night grow dark in its own time for stars to shine, nightingales offering song, I am in heaven. If all by myself, I will sigh softly and fall into reverie, watch the evening light fade over long soft hours. Body, heart and mind become dreamy, unwind and relax. Perhaps a glass of wine, some   eau de vie   or cider; yes, those make company with old and new friends even more pleasurable. Outdoor concerts abound, cafes and beer gardens with long wooden tables and benches under canopies of tall old trees  – Linden, Eichen, Buchen, Kastanienbäume . People mingle with an abundance of leisure which we se

The Color of today is Yellow My columbines are merging their ephemeral beauty   with the greenery and flowers in my patio, they are dancers :) swaying with the slightest breeze. This reminds me of the yellow slightly transparent sheets of paper I put on the house walls in the back patio. Handwriting some of my favorite poems and bringing them outdoors to mingle with the poetry of the garden, of the trees, squirrels, and birds – of all that is alive and speaks to us if we dare to listen. The next day, on Sunday May 29, the wonderful poetry of life is taking place at the big Book Celebration  – with 32 guests of all ages and backgrounds present in Karinaland . Eagle Poem by Joy Harjo   To decorate I also used my collection of old fabrics from Sinai region nomads, Palestine, Cambodia, etc. to cover chairs, benches, and tables. All of those colors and the yellow golden birds were inviting festivity and adding their ancient stories & poetry, music & magic to the celebratory field,

Poppy Delirium     The unexpected happens. Sunday, very early morning of June 5, a slow rain is setting in.  Plants and earth get a real soak. Literally heavenly. My bedroom fills with gentle rain-music, sprinkling smiles into my dreams. Nestled under the grand oaks, I named this tiny cottage  Paraiso . Later in the morning, the garden is enveloped in moist air and thick fog. As if being in a different country, I meander the mysterious and wet world – in wonder, in awe. The moss and lichen on the trees is vibrating, and humming an  ecstatic  tune. The nasturtiums and poppies all bowed down, in quiet reverie. Wetness and moisture, what blessings. A quite unusual June Sunday here in the Bay Area. One third of an inch of rain fell, almost half an inch up here in Karinaland.   Today, a couple of days later, the poppies are back up, new buds popping open, crinkly red petals unfolding their red delirium, bees know all about it. Being among them, a calm delight blooms in me, too – Entzücken.

  A week ago, on Sunday May 29, Karinaland garden was filled with celebration of precious life...  ...with live classical music, birds eagerly chiming in . And we had delicious Armenian food from La Mediterranée, and perfect weather. I was amazed that 32 people accepted my invitation, young and old.     A kind of “coming-out” after 2 plus years. Friends going back 20 or 30 years – and even 40 years – showed up. I needed community to mark the 2022 re-issue of my late husband’s 1989 classic   Black Lives, White Lives . Two years of hard work to make it happen with UC Press, my eye on all details of content and design so this extraordinary book and the voices featured in it, can now live on for future generations. And wonderful community it was!   On this Memorial Day... https://www.ucpress.edu/blog/59067/the-enduring-relevance-of-bob-blauners-black-lives-white-lives/     For more photos go to the album Christopher made:   https://photos.app.goo.gl/yhHGaVYpsqyDzzLM7   Elbert Tsai (violin

  “Two years after George Floyd’s murder, the street art created during the summer’s uprising – and the hope it inspired – is fading away.”   Last week, Charles Blow wrote a wonderful NYT piece for May 25, 2022, with photos of murals in various cities around the US:   https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2022/05/20/opinion/blm-george-floyd-mural.html     (Photo by Bob Ng, June 2021) End of May 2020 – in an immediate and irrepressible response – I conceived of and designed the 641 Garage Memorial Mural on my double garage doors – I wanted it to become a permanent exhibit and reminder. Like so many others in the uprisings, I felt compelled to put myself/my body on the line. The nightly vision for the memorial project’s lay-out and content was clear, as well as the use my own garage doors as a public installation. And for this, I had to   first start delving deep into the huge hole of painful and seemingly endless hours of researching the names & lives of the countless Black victims o