“The wideness of the horizon has to be inside us, cannot be anywhere but inside us, otherwise what we speak about is geographic distances.” Ella Maillart
“The wideness of the horizon has to be inside us, cannot be anywhere but inside us, otherwise what we speak about is geographic distances.” Ella Maillart
We have had many house sitters over our years of travel. In fact, our house sitting roster includes some of the most talented performers in Kansas City. Many have been in transition or recently back to Kansas City after a time of performances away. At times, our sitters spend almost as much time living in our house as we do – they are our invisible roommates. They are an essential part of our team. You get to see us and my work in Florida, Texas, Oregon etc. because they allow us to travel without concern for the furry assistants (aka shipping department) that reside with us.
But none have approached it in the way our current sitter does, for Cory it is a life style and an art project.
Cory Imig has foregone traditional living and an abundance of material possessions to live as a minimalist. By sharing other people’s homes with them while they are away, she gets to experience different ways of interacting with a space and different parts of the city. Her job as an artist is to question the status quo and for now that is living arrangements. And while this life-style choice certainly wouldn’t suit all, it is the perfect fit for this well organized, responsible young artist that likes to shake things up.
And in addition to being the best house sitter ever, her project is getting local attention (good thing we book our year of travel in advance!).
Read what Ink Magazine has to say about Cory here.
Follow her ongoing adventures on her blog: At Home Without a Home.
Thanks Cory! We couldn’t do it without you!
“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”… “It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…” ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
To add this or another piece to your collection please contact me.
Kyle and I crossed the Red River into my home state Tuesday night on our way to the Main Street Fort Worth Arts Festival. And though I haven’t lived here since I was a small child, and I often hear, “You don’t seem like a Texan” I was definitely raised as one – complete with the Texas flag flying in front of our house on holidays…in Missouri. So while I know instantly when I have crossed into the “Holy Land”, as my grandfather called Texas from the pulpit, for others it might not be so clear.
*signs may vary – there might be a few others
“Behold, my friends, the spring is come; the earth has gladly received the embraces of the sun, and we shall soon see the results of their love!” ~ Sitting Bull
If you would like to add this piece or another to your collection please contact me.
There are as many stories as there are Mile Markers.
Titles are meant to act as a nudge, a hint, the first line of a story. Especially titles that seemingly are about a distinct place. They hint at specificity, maybe calling to mind an exact location, or perhaps simply triggering the memory of counting the miles on the long family vacations. The significance of the name isn’t found in the numbers. Your stories are the Mile Markers – they are not duplicated but they are everywhere.
This powerful story is from fellow artist, Sharon Spillar after reading the post “Booth Lessons”:
“So mile marker 268. This can only be Kansas. I know that place. Checking with my Mom to double check the mile marker number. With my husband I still am inconclusive. I traveled that road many, many times. Many people travel it and make complaints. I find that I am at home. I find peace. I find day dreams that I have missed. I grew up in Kansas and I truly cannot find any complaints.
What mile marker 268 for me is about the time I regain my peace. My Dad was an oil man and worked that part of Kansas. He was killed in a traffic accident at mile marker 263.5 ( I thought ) or 262.5 ( Verne thinks) but what ever it is. I know the spot because of the positioning of the bridge. But what I can say is that by this mile marker I have recollected myself, I have been brought back together by that vast depth of space, and I am home again.
Chris we have only met once but I am telling you this. You captured that area.
Thank you, Sharon Spillar”
What is your story?
“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” ― Margaret Atwood
To add this or another piece to your collection please contact me.
My creative process is less like a light switch and more like a fire that takes some time to get stoked. So a week like this is glorious – not a single meeting and big chunks of uninterrupted studio time. As last week was given over to writing, proposals, and taxes, this week is all about creating! I already have some exciting new pieces to show for it and the week isn’t even over yet.
The largest pieces take 6 – 8 weeks to dry making these pieces ready to frame in mid-May. So if your name is on a sticky note on the bottom of my computer thank you for your patience. And, if you would like your name added to the list of people waiting for just the right large piece for them, please let me know.
Have an aversion to sticky notes? I have four great large pieces that are ready to go to their forever homes. You can see the pieces that are framed and ready for delivery here.
My images are metaphors for the “in-between” places in our lives. The ones where we must be mindful to appreciate the subtle beauty and richness that quietly resides there.
This piece is currently available. If you would like to add this or another to your collection please contact me.
Since I wrote to you last week about the lessons learned in my booth, I have written a proposal for a public art project, a response to my nomination to be included in the Kansas City Collection, re-worked a presentation about my work and given it, and written a new artist statement. So right now there is a paint brush in the other room that desperately needs my attention, and I really need to go make stuff! (besides I think I have run out of words, ie. visual artist!) So here’s some of what I wrote:
I approach 21st century photography with the sensibility and aesthetic of a 19th century photographer. By employing the best characteristics of both eras, I create anachronistic images of “in-between” spaces. Just as the earliest photographers, the practitioners of daguerreotype and tintype, I treat metal plates by hand, preparing each to receive its own unique photograph. I capitalize on the smooth surface of steel, a finely textured under painting, and the translucent qualities of digital pigments to create each luminous piece. My images are metaphors for the “in-between” places in our lives. The ones where we must be mindful to appreciate the subtle beauty and richness that quietly resides there.
…My photographs stand in sharp opposition to the relentless inundation of visual imagery in our daily life, which is used in the service of delivering a sales message, an advertisement, a call for consumption, and consequently a call for speed and action. I use the same delivery method, photography, but to counteract and convey the opposite message: slow down, enjoy the subtle beauty that is lost by traveling too fast. Notice and consider where you are and the impact of your actions…
© 2020 Chris Dahlquist