Standing among ruins and Banana Slugs, in Chimacum, WA, a long while ago. Witnessing the gone, or more so, the remains. In awe of what time does without human’s consent. That sunken barn and her external delicious pinks. Her chartreuses. Her se
It’s instinctive in a certain kind of painting...It’s like a nervous system. It’s not described, it’s happening. The feeling is going on with the task. The line is the feeling, from a soft thing, a dreamy thing, to something h
. ~ Almost ~ Some of the things in this almost whole piece: Very green blobs, almost round, almost floating, almost festive, almost breaking free, almost making it. Underneath them, almost words. A very pale blue background on the bottom left,
Hey, mixed media people. Painting, drawing, stitching, bundling, transferring, scribbling, texturing, book making, people. Let’s WRITE too! It’s National Poetry Writing Month. A whole entire month. And utterly unintentionally, smack i
This Boy, Ilan On orlyavineri.substack.com this morning 🤎🌷🤎
Yes, an out of the ordinary post from me this afternoon, in honor of an out of the ordinary day, as my extraordinary and beautiful son became Dr. Ilan Palacios Avineri. I am unashamedly, obviously, a super proud mama. So, there. 🤎🖤🤎
. . ~ Spring cleaning ~ Light & liberation. A celebration with thornless Yellow Lady Banks Rose. With green. With Passover, Nowruz, Diwali, and the rest of us.
Let me peer out at the world through your lens. (Maybe I’ll shudder, or gasp, or tilt my head in a question.) Let me see how your blue is my turquoise and my orange is your gold. Suddenly binary stars, we have startling gravity. Let’s com
. . Blues at the edge of the Sahara: Leather Indigo Yarn Paper Rust Wood Clay Straw All were once something else. Before we came Before we ‘took’ Before we ‘used’ Before we ‘showed up’ And showed off.
There was once a dining room wall I’ve painted light blue. Between clouds and sky. It held pictures I had made and mounted on simple cardboard. Each was enclosed within borders of an old wooden frame I found on the street or bought at Goodwi
Throwback Thursday and flash-forward. Old photos and upcoming events. And here, now, it’s spring, and I feel it in my bones. A couple days ago I came back home from Art & Soul retreat in Portland, Oregon, and now looking forward. Will
Join me at my place next month. Everything will be blooming. 🌷🩵🌷
WE MAKE THINGS New this morning on orlyavineri.substack.com To listen to and read..
The gathering of mature crops, sweet reunions @vjhawkins, and Elvis ofcourse, the chicken who wandered a space of ‘growing’ while wearing a diaper and made us smile so big. We are, as ‘they’ say, a warmhearted and eccentric bu
Don’t ask: What is the meaning of this work? My native language is visual, and as such, untranslatable into words. At best, accidentally, transferrable as sensation. Don’t ask me what I try to convey to ‘the audience’. I
It’s Faces now and then Book Making, the second one on the menu, on this workshop train.
Prolificness in minimalism. Participants’ work at the end of the day.
Today a glorious spring began. Outside, and inside too. Unaffected by what brutal men do. If just for a little bit of time. A Flowering Quince. A spiritless space holding 18 spirited women. All insistent on change.
Fear of irreversibility
orlyavineri.substack.com On Substack today, to read and listen, and to watch too is: The Intoxicating Pull of spring. -Here, is Spring 2016 -With my friend @florabowley Both inspired me to come live here. Here is, Portland, Oregon, where Spring