Tuesday, February 13, 2007

from area C - artist' in the wild

from area c - P1040851.jpg
from area c - P1040851.jpg,
originally uploaded by robin kibby.

My city has been vascillating between storm and sun. Officebound, I guage weather from the sound of raindrops on the skylight and the amount of glow produced by the living room drapes.
Before hunkering into today's mouse-clicking, I head out for a walk. I don't make it past the corner without hustling back for the camera.

In the current version of the Berkeley Flatlands, the pedestrian is treated to a wide view of the sky and hills. You can follow the deep underbelly of the clouds all the way into Oakland, or until it butts up against the green hills, eastward. Today's sky is full of drama. I keep my eyes tilted up, to avoid distraction by the city standards - stucco homes and adventurous green sprouts luminous in the clear winter sun. I take pictures the whole way, seeking frames with the most variation. The powerlines give the sky a landscape feel, and anchor this natural event to my city.

I head north. Until I approach Colusa Avenue it is not clear which will prevail - blue sky or dark cloud.
A more saavy outdoor enthusiast might have known the result all along. Perhaps there is only one proper conclusion from the white-topped clouds and that deep cerulean blue peeking through. By the time I've procured coffee and loop back south, I tuck the camera back into my bag, and unzip the jacket. The sun has won.

Sunday, February 4, 2007

Birthday Waffle for the Benefactor

Birthday Waffle
Birthday Waffle,
originally uploaded by robin kibby.

My best art fan/supporter celebrated his birthday today with a yam spice waffle topped with pears, a drizzle of sour cream, and true maple syrup. Tunes were low-key sunday offerings selected by the good folks at Guerilla Cafe. Good show Brian!

P.S. As a special treat to Brian Photo fans, a few more of his images are posted on smugmug.

Friday, February 2, 2007

Slides Begone!

Last one!
Last one!,
originally uploaded by robin kibby.

Backpack loaded with 19 slides in a tray, $45 of transcripts , and an optimistic essay on my future art, I boarded a southbound BART train. San Francisco State University is my final MFA application for 2007. My enthusiasm for their program made me wait till the last minute. Very Kib-Style. Left the house at 1pm, application needed to be in at 4 pm. I tried to drum up the normal nervous agitation, but with 3 hours at my disposal, I could only enjoy the ride. Out of Berkeley, the BART train rises up above street level, and our neighborhoods turn into a sea of grey trapezoids topped with "the Dish" and pipes edged with tar. I ride backwards past the highway I normally take to the studio. The train descends into a tunnel under the Bay. It picks up some speed screeching over the tracks. SF passes underground. The suits get off the train at Embarcardero, normal folks exit in the Mission. We rise back up to street level.Homes back right up to the tracks so close that it looks like they've been sliced in half to make way for the train. We stop and I am on the lookout for the free shuttle to SFSU. I wait in line with folks who appeared to be a median age of 23.
We board the bus. I ask the lady next to me for help with the bus stop I should get out at. When I mention Art Department, the lady in front turns around
"So which department are you applying to?" she asks, smiling. Perhaps she's in the program now.
"Painting" I answer.
"Oh Painting" she smiles again, "You must be amazing then."
"You don't have to be amazing to apply. Anyone can apply." I respond.
"You're right. These days, they'll let *anyone* apply," her tone soured, implying that the contents of my backpack could erode the integrity of contemporary art as we know it.
"Well, anyone can apply" I clarify "You just have to be amazing to get in."
"I hope you applied to some private schools as well," she said turning back around to face forward.
The lady next to me smiled "this is the stop, you'll want to go left." I thank her and head off to relieve myself of my final burden.