Allen Chen & James Marks { Part 2 }
[some say heaven]
some say heaven, but it’s not heaven exactly.
that’s eternity; up here everything just blows away.
and where are all the souls? are they
hiding? do they go haunting on stormy
afternoons, screeching down from heaven?well, it’s not
heaven exactly. it makes one wonder
what God does with all those souls—-
God, You Poet.
i wish i’d dream Your eyes, God,
just once more, so they could haunt
me awhile longer.
i’ll never see a heaven that lasts,
but i’m holding on… just awhile longer.
it’s Your eyes, God—- they saw me once.
—-
Allen Chen is a Taiwnanese born New York based artist. He was originally trained as a biological scientist, and in 2010 he completed the full-tiime program at the International Center of Photography. He applies photography, video, and sculpture to investigate subjects in current and historic political events. His work has been shown at Dumbo Arts Festival, 25CPW gallery, and ICP education gallery. His work can be seen at {www.allenchenstudio.com}James Marks studies Buddhist Philosophy (currently at Harvard Divinity School), and is interested in the relation between thought and intimacy.  James doesn’t own a TV, but manages to watch a lot of TV.  He writes songs, poems, stories, and essays, the latter mostly academic.  He writes reflections on this-and-that at {www.jqmarks.com}
—-
Words with Pictures is a weekly two-part post that pairs photographers and writers. The first week, a writer is given a photograph to inspire the creation of a new piece of writing. The following week the photographer is given a piece of writing and responds with a new photographic piece. This series is curated by Conveyor Magazine Editor Dominica Paige.

Allen Chen & James Marks { Part 2 }


[some say heaven]


some say heaven, but it’s not heaven exactly.
that’s eternity; up here everything just blows away.
and where are all the souls? are they
hiding? do they go haunting on stormy

afternoons, screeching down from heaven?well, it’s not
heaven exactly. it makes one wonder
what God does with all those souls—-
God, You Poet.

i wish i’d dream Your eyes, God,
just once more, so they could haunt
me awhile longer.

i’ll never see a heaven that lasts,
but i’m holding on… just awhile longer.
it’s Your eyes, God—- they saw me once.

—-

Allen Chen is a Taiwnanese born New York based artist. He was originally trained as a biological scientist, and in 2010 he completed the full-tiime program at the International Center of Photography. He applies photography, video, and sculpture to investigate subjects in current and historic political events. His work has been shown at Dumbo Arts Festival, 25CPW gallery, and ICP education gallery. His work can be seen at {www.allenchenstudio.com}

James Marks studies Buddhist Philosophy (currently at Harvard Divinity School), and is interested in the relation between thought and intimacy.  James doesn’t own a TV, but manages to watch a lot of TV.  He writes songs, poems, stories, and essays, the latter mostly academic.  He writes reflections on this-and-that at {www.jqmarks.com}

—-

Words with Pictures is a weekly two-part post that pairs photographers and writers. The first week, a writer is given a photograph to inspire the creation of a new piece of writing. The following week the photographer is given a piece of writing and responds with a new photographic piece. This series is curated by Conveyor Magazine Editor Dominica Paige.

Allen Chen & James Marks { Part 1 }
Three Times        I.  Returning, as ever,  to body, speech, mind;  centers of pleasure  where ever I should find  the time for leisure—- I’ve found my stride in the lostness of the life implied by memory; call it mind, but, imperceptibly, override the impulse to identify—- Filling our homes with possibilities not our own to be for some unknown neighbors to our neighbors; this has happened before, and in before, I find (when I turn back and forth) the weight of what my place is worth—- That way in which my words work.                II.
How is it? seeing what was once so near as to be kept from sight—- How is it? the face, the absent gaze eyes fixed on mine—- How is it? irony’s laments, blind the eyes of this room.                  III. She paints others’ lives with lines or lies with other lies. I recall as true what to her have become forgotten fictions. Her words: the pleasure of the pain of teeth. Bite-marks and questions whose answers are the sting they bring. I still haven’t learned my lesson, and still I live with others’ lies as if the lines that split their face in two could mark more than that they live part-time where light directly hit and where light only incidentally falls; and the so-called empty spaces cry for being filled in that are already filled in: with fictions, with longings meant not for fulfilling but for feeling, and the empty gestures of the wind.
—- Allen Chen is a Taiwnanese born New York based artist. He was originally trained as a biological scientist, and in 2010 he completed the full-tiime program at the International Center of Photography. He applies photography, video, and sculpture to investigate subjects in current and historic political events. His work has been shown at Dumbo Arts Festival, 25CPW gallery, and ICP education gallery. His work can be seen at {www.allenchenstudio.com} James Marks studies Buddhist Philosophy (currently at Harvard Divinity School), and is interested in the relation between thought and intimacy.  James doesn’t own a TV, but manages to watch a lot of TV.  He writes songs, poems, stories, and essays, the latter mostly academic.  He writes reflections on this-and-that at {www.jqmarks.com} —-Words with Pictures is a weekly two-part post that pairs photographers and writers. The first week, a writer is given a photograph to inspire the creation of a new piece of writing. The following week the photographer is given a piece of writing and responds with a new photographic piece. This series is curated by Conveyor Magazine Editor Dominica Paige.

Allen Chen & James Marks { Part 1 }

Three Times

        I.  

Returning, as ever, 
to body, speech, mind; 
centers of pleasure  
where ever I should find 
the time for leisure—-

I’ve found my stride
in the lostness of the life implied
by memory;
call it mind, but, imperceptibly,
override
the
impulse
to
identify—-

Filling our homes with possibilities
not our own
to be for some unknown
neighbors to our neighbors;
this has happened before,
and in before,
I find
(when I turn back
and forth)
the weight of what
my place is worth—-

That way in which my words work.

                II.

How is it? seeing what was once so near
as to be kept from sight—-
How is it? the face, the absent gaze
eyes fixed on mine—-
How is it? irony’s laments, blind the eyes
of this room.

                 III.

She paints others’ lives with lines or lies with other lies.
I recall as true what to her have become forgotten fictions.
Her words: the pleasure of the pain of teeth.
Bite-marks and questions whose answers are the sting they bring.
I still haven’t learned my lesson, and still I live with others’ lies
as if the lines that split their face in two
could mark more than that they live part-time
where light directly hit and where light only incidentally falls;
and the so-called empty spaces cry for being filled in
that are already filled in: with fictions, with longings meant
not for fulfilling but for feeling, and the empty gestures of the wind.

—-

Allen Chen is a Taiwnanese born New York based artist. He was originally trained as a biological scientist, and in 2010 he completed the full-tiime program at the International Center of Photography. He applies photography, video, and sculpture to investigate subjects in current and historic political events. His work has been shown at Dumbo Arts Festival, 25CPW gallery, and ICP education gallery. His work can be seen at {www.allenchenstudio.com}

James Marks studies Buddhist Philosophy (currently at Harvard Divinity School), and is interested in the relation between thought and intimacy.  James doesn’t own a TV, but manages to watch a lot of TV.  He writes songs, poems, stories, and essays, the latter mostly academic.  He writes reflections on this-and-that at {www.jqmarks.com}

—-

Words with Pictures is a weekly two-part post that pairs photographers and writers. The first week, a writer is given a photograph to inspire the creation of a new piece of writing. The following week the photographer is given a piece of writing and responds with a new photographic piece. This series is curated by Conveyor Magazine Editor Dominica Paige.

Spine by R.H. Quaytman

Happy Friday! Liz Sales, has escaped New York this weekend and headed down to Rolly Durham, NC. In her place, we are excited to present a guest post from photographer Allen Chen. He’s going to fill us in on R.H. Quaytman’s lastest publication, Spine. Which is apparently quite a gem of a book!

The following is his synopsis:


R.H. Quaytman’s book, Spine, by Sternberg Press, is the first compilation of his artwork from 2001 to 2010. The book tracks his logical progression as a painter; Quaytman works in a system of self-designated “Chapters,” where each chapter is a different series of paintings. With silkscreen ink on wood panels, Quaytman materializes the visual experience with injections of nostalgia, paradox, and personal longings.

Unlike the large monographs that are usually published for painters, the all white minimalist aesthetic of Spine provides a vast meditative real estate on a relatively small (10in x 6.4 in) ground. For Quaytman’s admirers and those who are interested in her pieces, the book itself can be viewed as another body of work, as well as the artist’s circulated inventory list.

Allen Chen is a Taiwnanese born New York based artist. He was originally trained as a biological scientist, and in 2010 he completed the full-tiime program at the International Center of Photography. He applies photography, video, and sculpture to explore subjects in current and historic political events. His work has been shown at Dumbo Arts Festival, 25CPW gallery, and the International Center of Photography.

His work can be seen at www.allenchenstudio.com 


17 Feb 2012 / 4 notes / Allen Chen R.H. Quaytman Spine Bibliophile Friday