Monday, June 29, 2015
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 6/29/2015 12:55:00 PM
Monday, February 16, 2015
Returning Home, Qing dynasty (1644–1911), ca. 1695
Shitao (Zhu Ruoji) (Chinese, 1642–1707)
Album of twelve paintings; ink and color on paper
Facing pages inscribed by the artist
From the P. Y. and Kinmay W. Tang Family Collection
Gift of Wen and Constance Fong, in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Dillon, 1976 (1976.280)
with the wind,
I return by the water
through a thinning mist;
I see a tiny hut clinging
to the bank of a green stream,
How soft and fat the white
clouds look in the cold air.
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 2/16/2015 01:27:00 AM
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 1/04/2015 05:35:00 PM
Monday, October 20, 2014
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 10/20/2014 02:45:00 PM
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
A robot is an automatic mechanical device often resembling a human or animal.
Modern robots are usually an electro-mechanical machine guided by a computer program or electronic circuitry. I try to put a focus on the expression of inner feelings and emotions through art rather than displaying how realistically I can paint an image or object.
But as time goes by,technology seems to take over .
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 10/07/2014 11:46:00 AM
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Thursday, September 18, 2014
You think Heaven is safe?
We have a population of demi-gods,
Satyrs,nymphs,fauns, the playful
Spirits of wild places,
Astral entities who loiter about.
When we denied these the freedom of heaven
We compensated them
With their grottoes and crags,their woods and their
Their dells and knolls.In all these sanctuaries
We should protect them.
Imagine their fears
Since the uncontrollable Lycaon
Plotted against me, and attempted
To do away with me- Jove,King of Heaven,
Whose right hand
Rests among thunderheads and whose left
Sways the assemblies of heaven!
The gods roared their outrage.
Mankind recoiled stunned
As the world's ending and
The very air hallucinated horrors.
The corruption of mankind
Rose to my nostrils,here in heaven,
As a stench of putrid flesh.
Seeking better news of the species
I left Olympus, and in the shape of a man
Walked the earth.
If I were to recount, in every detail,
How man has distorted himself
With his greed,his lies,his indifference,
The end of time,I think,
Would overtake the reckoning.
from Tales from OVID
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 9/18/2014 11:11:00 PM
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Monday, August 25, 2014
Ovid was interested in passion.Or rather, in what passion feels like
to the possessed by it. Not just ordinary passion either.But human passion in extremis- passion where it combusts,or levitates, or mutates into an experience of the super natural.
This is the current he divines and follows in each of his tales- the current of human passion.He adapts each myth to this theme.Where details or complexities of the traditional story encumber or diffuse his theme,he simply omits them.He must have known the full myth of Venus and Adonis,in which the Goddess of Love and her opposite in the underworld,the Goddess of Death, quarrel for possession of the baby Adonis, and in which the Boar has multiple identities, and where the whole sequence of events completes the annual cycle of the sacrificed god.
But all Ovid wants is the story of hope-lessly besotted and doomed love in the most intense form imaginable- as suffered by the love-goddess herself.from Tales from Ovid.
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 8/25/2014 07:10:00 PM
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Posted by Marguerita Bornstein at 7/31/2014 05:43:00 PM