Crazy Grays.

Daniel and I just took a short trip to New York for Makoto Fujimura's recent work, The Four Holy Gospels. It was such a treat to be there; the series was visually remarkable and as Makoto spoke about it he called it his "life work." We had to pinch ourselves to believe that we got to be a part of such special night.

Besides that event, we bussled around New York. I may have gone to the best show of my life while there: Anselm Kiefer at the Gogosian Gallery. Whew...it blew my mind.

Standing close Kiefer's paintings, they looked abstract; a constellation of ash and dirt and paint. I was tempted to stay close, lost in weathered clay and crackled beauty. But stepping further back I was drawn into gorgeous gray landscapes of depth--they felt like they went on forever. His installations, so fragile and precarious, were encased in glass. These haunt me; they transported me into someone's sad world. I felt the horror in the pieces without knowing their specific story. So often I try to understand the specifics of a story or person in order to feel something for them, this time it was opposite and it seemed natural. I experienced a sort of visual empathy. Language did not get in the way this time.

Here are some images from the show: