22
Jan
12

52 Pickup – 7 of Hearts “Run Over”

“Run Over” Pictures and Poetry by Mim Weisburd for The 52 Pickup Project.

Drowned in a puddle, stomped over, and desiccated. 

Unnoticed and walked upon.

 I am nothing but pulp, unrecognizable even to myself.

Left to disintegrate  

One with the asphalt and grime.

Just leave me stuck to the bottom of your tires,

Allow me to fall apart. 

It’s not so bad to disappear.

Like I never lived at all.

 I am just litter on the ground.

Run me over, leave me for dead, forget I was here.

Allow me to rot away.

Don’t worry the rain will clean up my remains.

Washing my fleshy bits down the drain.

All I want is to slowly become nothing

Under the crushing wheel of life.

Anything to stop the pain of existence. 

15
Jan
12

52 Pickup – Joker Part 1 “Neglect”

Joker Photography and Poetry by Mim Weisburd for The 52 Pickup Project.

I will no longer play the fool.

A smile on my lips and pain in my heart.

I am not your toy to be fought over.

You cannot use me to hurt one another.

I will rip the Jesters crown off your smug head.

I will tear deep into your broken heart and burst forth from your frazzled mind.

Out of these intestines and fractures skulls, I burst forth, sprout wings and fly far away.

Your, failures, injuries, and lost chances are not my fault.

It is not my responsibility to fix any of it.

If you chose to be a fool that is your folly

If you are stupid enough not to eat, and mad enough not to drink your heart will stop.

This is not my fault.

If you are destructive enough to smoke time away in an empty room, it is not my fault.

You have been so selfishly absorbed in your sad little lives that you never noticed me.

The neglect was enough, yet you also burdened me with the worlds’ sorrows.

I will no longer metabolize the hard and sharp bits in order to defecate beauty and truth.

Now I only bite off what I can chew and eat form my own plate.

Digest your own poison filth.

I don’t believe I am responsible for an entire world’s happiness and entitled to none myself.

This guilt, remorse, fear and regret were never mine.

From now I will always come first.

It should have been this way from the start.

06
Jan
12

52 Pickup – 7 of Diamonds “Perspicacity”

Perspicacity“ Photography by J. Eric Tibbs and Mim Weisburd for The 52 Pickup Project

Perspicacity is a penetrating discernment – a clarity of vision or intellect which provides a deep understanding and insight.   My judgement has been clouded, my understanding compromised, and my intellect dulled by ancient and primitive systems that no longer serve me.  I must re-examine my beliefs, ideologies and expectations in order to truly see.  To foster the process of gaining new perspectives and developing adaptive ways of being I’ve begun traveling.  Exploring my inner and outer landscape, looking at things from a different angle, examining them in and outside of their context.  More than this I am experimenting with different ways of being.  It’s frightening, I feel as if I have looked over a cliff, and jumped into the abyss.  All I know is that what I have been doing so far is not working.  Throwing myself over the edge, I must grow wings, construct a parachute, or find a landing spot.  I cannot go backwards, I must  evolve or perish.

04
Jan
12

52 Pickup – Ace of Diamonds “Miriam”

For the past several months I’ve been in an Acts of Witness group with the therapeutic goal of integrating some very ancient wounds.  This process has been excruciatingly difficult and has gotten me in contact with very primitive, tender parts of my psyche.  I was born Miriam Beth Weisburd and at the age of 13 I change my name to Mim.  I created this Hamsa or Hand of Miriam to place on my childhood Synagogue Beth Elohim as a means for integration.   We lived next door and I could see the stained glass windows and listen to services in the privacy of my room.  I’m grateful to my cousin Stana Weisburd who made the offering and documented it for the 52 Pickup Project.   Below is a piece I wrote for my act, a small slice of my truth. 

Miriam was a gentle child, soft spoken and interior, a dreamer who spent hours lost in her imaginary world. She loved the world, the people in it and the beauty that surrounded her. Miriam grew up in Park Slope, Brooklyn, a living museum with slate sidewalks and Victorian Brownstones. Everywhere she went she was greeted by Gargoyles peeking out from carved doorways. She spent her weekends at the Brooklyn Museum with Father; they would walk there passing the water fountains displaying Poseidon is all his glory and through the Arch de Triumph depicting Civil War soldiers on Easter Parkway. The Brooklyn museum was filled with ancient Egyptian treasures, period rooms from the early Americas and an entire Farmhouse from Upstate had been carved into its fourth floor. She and Father would stand in front of totem poles and masks made by the native peoples of this land and wonder aloud to one another about the rituals and ceremonies they were used in.

Park Slope was so named because it gently sloped down from the rolling hills, winding paths and covered bridges of Prospect Park. In the winters Miriam went sledding and ice skating in the park. In the summers the botanic gardens would open with a Cherry Blossom festival, Miriam loved to sit below the trees and let the pink petals fall down on her like gigantic fragrant snowflakes. The library was nestled between the gardens and the museum. Miriam, was a strong reader, with a deep soul and contemplative personality, she found great solace in the floors upon floors of books.

Mother and Father divorced when Miriam was four, Father joined a commune while Mother moved constantly. When Miriam started school she had to bring all of her possessions so she could change parents and apartments. She had two beds, two dressers and two rooms, but no one to help with her homework. Mother and Father were so busy with their jobs, their lovers and their pain that Miriam was forgotten. They forgot she was just a child, they forgot she needed love, they forgot that Miriam was their responsibility. Miriam felt their suffering and wanted to make it better, she tried to be good, she tried to be easy, she tried to be quiet and calm. Mother took up with an angry man as father moved in with a loving woman. One day, the man Mother lived with died, just like that and his mother, a Grandmother to Miriam her, died three days later. The chaos at home did not match the beauty of the world outside, this confused and confounded Miriam.

When Miriam was nine years old people started begging and sleeping on the sidewalks.Where had they come from, why didn’t anyone care for them? The beautiful streets of Park Slope became less and less safe, the chaos at home was leaking into the world, and the gargoyles she always loved seemed to mock her with their smiles. Years passed, the people in the streets grew, her parents continued to ignore her. Nothing changed. Miriam’s soft heart forged by generations of suffering hurt, Miriam’s soft heart bled, Miriam’s soft heart burst, and nobody noticed.

At the age of thirteen Miriam was still being shuffled back and forth, weekly from parent to parent. Mother lived in a one bedroom apartment and slept in the living room. She never had time to cook dinner and made Miriam walk through the increasingly dangerous neighborhood to pick up cigarettes and Chinese food. Meanwhile Father was still living with the same woman after four whole years! The summer Miriam turned thirteen she asked for a nickname from a friend at summer camp, I took my chance and arose, little did Miriam know that Mim would soon take over. The first time I spoke was to protect Miriam when Mother decided to go to Law School and continue working. This quiet, well-behaved child, this sensitive being that always made things easier for others, for the first time said “No, enough, this must stop!” I will no longer be shuffled from house to house and contribute to this chaos where my broken heart, precious mind, and sensitive soul are juggled by clowns painted up as parents.

From the hidden wounds of this tender child a women arose, born of a furry fuelled by impending adolescence and years of staggering loneliness. I decided no one was allowed to ever speak Miriam’s name. I decided to attend school in Manhattan. I decided to live with Father. I decided to be smart, I decided to be strong. I decided to be quick as a whip, strike first, and ask questions later. . I decided to hide Miriam from everyone, even myself

I took that perfect innocent being and tossed her into the ocean, into the cold deep, down and down, where darkness reigns. Drowned in this watery grave I believed nobody could find her, see her, or get to her. She was finally truly SAFE. Months passed, years passed and decades passed. Miriam moved from memory to dream, and from dream to story, and from story to legend. Even I came to believe she had died a long, long, long time ago.

What I did not know and understand is the great strength in vulnerability, the resilience of innocence and the perfection of peace. In the cold and dark she remained, alive and well, full of life and dreamy knowledge. Recording every ripple and sensing every flicker of emotion that I, Mim, experienced. 

What I did not know and understand is how much she understands this life, how her ability to deeply feel and yes deeply hurt is a great gift I have denied us.

What I did not know and understand is that these years of parenting others, creating a life for myself, and carving a unique spot in this world was all in preparation for her return.

Now it is I, Mim that is broken and overwhelmed by the world. After 27 long years of fighting, struggling and keeping pain at bay, I need Miriam to heal me with her unconditional love, deep compassion, and innocence. It is time to dive into the waters, swim to the bottom of the ocean, and reunite with the deepest most knowing part of myself.

01
Jan
12

52 Pickup – 4 of Diamonds “Meditation”

4 of Diamonds for the 52 Pickup Project

This New Years was spend in quiet contemplation, relaxation, and meditation, setting clear intentions for 2012.

4 of Diamonds for The 52 Pickup Project

Namaste

28
Dec
11

52 Pickup – 7 of Clubs “Chinatown”

 Chinatown  Photography by J. Eric Tibbs and Mim Weisburd for The 52 Pickup Project

Sometimes you just need to get out-of-town.  I couldn’t wait to get in my car and drive.  The further south I drove the more my worries melted away.  Beyond the urban sprawl fo the San Francisco Bay Area, through the farmlands fo the central valley, into the heat of Los Angeles.   Six or so hours, and a life time away.  I needed to focus on nothing but the road in front of me, the tunes on my radio, and honest biological needs; water, food, bathroom, stretch, and back on the road again.  It cleared my mind and opened my soul up to new possibilities.  I foresee many road trips in my future. This Jewish Brooklyn Girl had her best Christmas ever in Chinatown.

22
Dec
11

52 Pickup – King of Hearts “ChristMyth”

ChristMyth Pictures and Poetry By Mim Weisburd for The 52 Pickup Project - Watch the Video!

One upon a time their was this dude by the name of Jesus Christ.
He was pretty cool you know, yeah the guy was hella nic
 He traveled all around the place talking to folks he met
About peace and love and tolerance, and giving what you ge
 He told ‘em to be generous and care for one another
But once he was gone they got his message wrong
 His followers told everyone to live exactly by their rules
And then ran around destroying things actin’ just like fools
 They said you’d get the punishment if you wasn’t just like them
But went on like spoiled children instead of righteous men 
They spread hate and intolerance in their endless search for gold
Making a complete mockery of the greatest truths ever told 
 So on this anniversary of his birthday
lets remember why he came to earth
 He’d say listen ya’ll now here’s the deal and don’t you make no fuss
Stop the fighting and the bickering the killing and the muss 
You gotta learn to give and take, you gotta learn to love
Nobody ever stopped suffering with a boxing glove
 Not what he said applies to all, the Christian and the Jew,
the Buddhist and the Muslim, the Pagan and Hindu
 Let’s work it out, pull it together and realize
We are the human family if one suffers then we all
 You don’t need to believe his poppa was the baddest on the block
To realize the Christ Myth holds a message that really rocks
 We are all the greatest gift the world has ever seen
And this thing we call reality is just a collective dream
 If we stop all fighting and truly come together
The earth are standing on will become heaven forever 
11
Dec
11

52 Pickup – 3 of Clubs “Triad”

3 of Clubs for 52 Pickup Paint by Mim Photography/Models  Mim Weisburd and Forbidden Light

He slips down the rabbit hole, naked and pure, floating with the other players, each holds their card tightly to their chest.  In this game the white rabbit has an ace up his sleeve, and he only lets you see if you will pay.  She slips down a different hole, from a different, time another dimension  Swirling into the vortex, she holds her card like a vessel, a kite, a pair of wings, an a dress, it has been al of these.  She transforms as she floats down.  His trip is not as easy.  Sometimes her prays, sometimes he fights, stretches or weeps, occasionally he floats. Both he and she have the three, the card that’s in their hand.  But each is unfinished missing many pieces.  They both land with a themed bumb.  Right on the underground. They find themselves in a blue agate cave with a dark floor  In the long flight down both cards have been shredded to pieces.  The two look at each other and realize their cards are all messed up and mixed together all over the floor.  They two circle each other, Pacing, growling spitting, fire in their eyes “why do you have part of my precious card” each thinks and at once pounces.  The biting and pulling, grabbing and snarling make their body heart rise.  They were so cold from the flight down, and now they begin to warm.  As they warm they realize it’s nothing but skin on skin, and the grabbing turns into embraces, while the bites become nibbles. The grappling deteriorates into groping as they find themselves in each other.  Rolling on the broken pieces of their cards on the floor, they couple for hours and hours, Turning each other in very position.  Over and over they dance until all the pieces of their cards have magically woven together.  The enchanted card is missing pieces, but a crude number 3 can still be read.  They look in each others eyes and realize: We are only two, there is another they know it’s time to let them in, to balance their extremities and complete the angle that is the most stable form on the planet, a triad. 

Forbidden Light shares his version of the story.

07
Dec
11

52 Pickup – 9 of Hearts “Spark”

9 of Hearts, Concept, Modeling, Photography and Poetry by KaziGrrl for The 52 Pickup Project

KaziGrrl and I have never met, we have never heard each other’s voice, looked in the others eyes or exchanged a handshake.  The power of social media is this; we are part of the same community and therefore we know each other, we trust each other, we can collaborate over miles of separation.  I trustingly mailed this card from California to Massachusetts and what she created touched me deeply.  I love her words, her images and her perspective.  I also love that a complete “stranger” is willing to put so much of their heart and soul into playing this “Game” with me.  These exchanges reaffirm my belief that creativity can spark conversations that get to the core of the human experience. 

Thank you KaziGrrl – From the bottom of my heart – Mim Weisburd

9 of Hearts

The hand is deal

Nine hearts beating in perfect synchrony

Natural chemical electricity between them, as between us

Pounding on in time

Ninefold

But

If one beats faster and fades, the rest wink out in series

Unable to sustain the rhythm

What then?

The gaping hole is torn

I hold the silent heart in my bloody hand

Searching frantically for some magic to re-start life’s rhythm

A tower of power with joules to spare, with watts to give

To bring back from the edge of the abyss

I wear the mask of jagged holes where once life pulsed

I cry to the heavens to intercede

I rend my clothes

The energy, the spark generated in the action so near the tower

Jump-starts the passion, re-ignites the flame

Restores the rhythm to my aching heart, yours and mine

The hole remains but the rhythm of life continues

Ever strong, ever constant

A legacy for all time

04
Dec
11

52 Pickup – 5 of Diamonds “Friendship”

For the 17th installment of the 52 pickup Project I created an envelope out of the Five of Diamonds, filled it with feathers, string, and other items perfect for “nesting” and mailed it to my dear friend Paul.  Paul and I have been exchanging mail art for 17 years, and have kept each and every piece we have sent one another.  Like myself Paul is an artist who lives art in day-to-day life.  His home is filled with antique dolls, impromptu altars, photographs and magical collections of objects.   From my very first visit I have always felt I was entering a special realm whenever I am there.  In the last 17 years I have completed college and graduate school, been married and divorced, moved over a dozen times, and have had more jobs than I can count.  He is a consistent figure, working the same day job, living in the same perfect rooftop apartment with views of Lakeside Park and Downtown Oakland.  Our friendship has sustained us both through the ups and downs of life as a creative beings whose values do not reflect those of the mainstream culture.  When I go through the collection of things we have exchanged over the years I am overwhelmed by our love and what friendship truly means.

23
Nov
11

52 Pickup – 2 of Spades “Deuces Wild – The Eternal Dance”

Deuces Wild Poetry & Pictures J. Eric Tibbs Mask & Concept by Mim  for The 52 Pickup Project

Models Mim & Jae

Deuces Wild – The Eternal Dance
There are always two; sometimes more
From the garden, one descends
Wearing woman and little else
Yet powers remain concealed
Destined for the gate, the guardian of the precipice
Constricting black straps define her shape
Another limit
Enshrouded liquid energy confined to one form
She draws on the mask for strength
A mooring point in the sea of eyes, during a tumultuous storm of emotions
A smile
Masquerade of light and cheerful
A lie
The face of reality is dark, honest and cunning
Unbeknownst to the other; draped in He
Woe is the plight of he: compelled to her threshold
Powerless to resist
Smooth wood under strong feet carry the sinewy frame across the deck
It’s stacked, but in who’s favor
She…He…
Will we ever see
He slips closer as she spins
Taking his chance
Strands envelop her, cable like limitations of self perception
A twisted projection
His clever ruse to no avail, he’s drawn completely into her web
Intense, intertwined bodies, the balance of power bounces between
Stimulating, a reverberation at the gate
He seizes the moment, she breaks the bands
Back and forth
Attract and repel
Synonymous
Linked, but confined no more
The gate is gone
They, immersed in the limitless
Now free
To begin again,…again

23
Nov
11

52 Pickup – Two of Spades “Dueces Wild – Ghost in the Machine”

“Ghost in the Machine” Poetry and Pictures by Mim Weisburd for The 52 Pickup Project.

This is how you play the game
The deck must be shuffled
Each card is unique
The cards must be dealt
Each transformed without loosing identity
The players place their bets
You cannot keep your cards
You must give them all away
In this game hearts trump all
He wonders how
SHe can give her hearts away
Over and over
Just like that

She waits for him to lay his cards on the table
Thinking she knows his hand
I see your joke and raise you a laugh
He plays the Ace
Spinning her in his spider web
He plays The Joker
And nervously speaks when there is nothing to say
He plays the Jack with blades ready
They are cool and tickle her skin
She lays her cards before hom
He looks them over and decides to keep them all
Sealing the deal and making sure both players win

15
Nov
11

52 Pickup – King of Clubs “Revolution”

Che Guevera King of Clubs by Mim for 52 Pickup, Pictures by Mim Weisburd &  J. Eric Tibbs

With Gratitude to  Revolution Café in Oakland.

Revolution

I see and feel it all around me, entwining each of us. The imbalance of power, resources, and access is simply revolting.  Compared to most humans on this planet I have extreme amounts of education and resources and am very wealthy.  Do I deserve these privileges?  No, I was just lucky enough to be born into them.  Being lucky is not enough any more, it will no longer protect anyone.  The Revolution that is occurring is on all fronts from economic and technologic to erotic and symbolic.  Its’ vein runs through every aspect of our human experience, we are being called to evolve.  It is inevitable and cannot be stopped.  I do not know what the results will be; a more just global system or an even larger wider network of control.  All I can say is that it’s time has come and things are about to get much worse before they get better. 

The Revolution is Now.

02
Nov
11

52 Pickup – Jack of Diamonds “Painted Man”

“Jack of Diamonds ” is the 14th installment in the 52 Pickup Project

Model –  David Jaberi     Painters  -  ArtReach Artists     Photography  -  Mim Weisburd

Mim: “Where’s your Halloween costume?”  David: “It’s in my bag, I am going to ask the students to paint me.” Mim: “Wow, can I get one of my cards and attach it to you?” David: “Sure go get it!”  A whirling dervish,  fantastic frenzy, multi-faced flurry of color.   Hands and brushes drip with paint, the clean white surface is consumed in creativity.   Blue splashes, white lines and black crosses emerge.  The group is ablaze with permission to destroy in the name of development and make a  mess into a masterpiece.  In the eye of this artistic storm, our breathing canvas is caught between elation and claustrophobia, overwhelmed to be the center so much movement and energy.  Then almost as quick as it began, we realize, it is done!  Standing before us is the embodiment of our collective power, the ability to transform the mundane into the magical.  This Jack of Diamonds bears a great treasure.

23
Oct
11

52 Pickup – 7 of Spades “Oyster”

“Oyster” is the 13th installment in the 52 Pickup Project 

Pictures & Poetry by Mim Weisburd.

 

My delicious beauty

I have traveled far

To taste your salty flesh 

I cannot wait to slip between your layers

And pry you open

How many times have I deftly used my tool to get inside you?

Under that hard shell you’re so soft and supple

Occasionally there’s smooth round pearls in your curvy layers

Usually you come just as you are

Either way you are priceless

There are times when it’s almost too easy

You open up with little effort

Then there are days

When you must be broken

To get at the treasures you hide 

Either way, we both know, you will be had 

I love swallowing you cold and raw

Letting silt gets under my tongue.

Warming you up

Dressing you to my taste

Produces mouth watering results

Either way you’re so fresh 

Slithering and slipping down my throat

Leaving trails of acrid milky juices

Sticky and pungent on my cheeks 

Evidence of my spent hunger

Litters the space between us

In shattered and broken bits

There’s nothing left but your velvety essence

On my fingers and lips

Full, sticky, spent, drunk on flesh

I weave my way home

Thinking of the next time

I can get away

And taste you again

20
Oct
11

52 Pickup – 8 of Clubs “Night Pier”

 Text and Pictures of Mim by Forbidden Light - 8 of Club Pictures by Mim Weisburd

     We do this kind of thing all of the time.  Saturday night.  Pumpkin Cheesecake.  A tank full of gas.  A trunk full of art.  Driving down San Pablo, our ears are listening for God’s small, still voice to direct us.  This is how you play 52 Pick-Up.  You fill your belly with bliss and let the spirits guide your steering wheel.  You open your heart and let the graffiti and trees tell you a story.
     Her voice chimes, “What about the pier?”
     Staying out of the way, “I’m down for whatever.”  Driving closer to The Bay, the temperature drops and I regret not wearing socks.  Being with Mim for over a year, I’ve learned to dress light.  Wear something easily removed.  No socks.  No underwear.  You may have an unexpected costume change.  You may end up nude.  Anything for that perfect shot.  This game calls for absolute fluidity.  Plans change at the drop of a hat.  Interesting characters barge their way into our scene.  52 Pick-Up is really a way to embrace the random.
     As a kid, we used to play this game as a joke.  We would dump a deck of cards on to the floor, and force the loser to clean up the mess.  Mim isn’t joking, “Playing this every week, I’ve been really challenging myself.  It really pushes my creativity to come up with something new every time.”  In her version, you can’t drop two cards in the same space or in the same fashion.  Every card must be cleaned up by a different person, spirit or phenomenon.  Furthermore, each card must be documented as it is dropped.  Or, in this case, double documented.
     Along for the ride, I followed Mim as she looked for a place to leave The Eight of Clubs.  With my own camera, I shot photos of her shooting photos.  Down a drain pipe?  Against a box tagged with layers of graffiti?  Capturing her process was a joy.  Shooting over her shoulder, I could see that the over-sized playing card was actually alive in her hand.  Whispering its preferences to her, I guess he wanted to be thrown overboard.  After a few more shots, celebrating its fiery veneer and wild texture, she honored his wish by tossing him into the The Bay.  This is how you play 52 Pick-Up.

 

17
Oct
11

52 Pickup – 2 of Diamonds “Death and Rebirth”

In the last year I have experienced so many deaths;  the end of my seven-year marriage, the loss of my home life I’d built, and the untimely death of my dog.  I have also relocated to my mother to the Bay Area and she will need a great deal of support.  My old life, the life I had been living for the last decade has died, and a new one is being born from its ashes.  In recognition of this I decided to perform a ritual burial as part of the 52 Pickup Project series.   The Two of Spades  is my death card. Decorated with the infamous Diamond Skull by Damien Hirst.   I added a coin to one of its eyes, a tribute to cross the River Styx.  I then offered the card and many more coins to the famous Angel statue at Mountain View Cemetery.  This resting place has been a refuge for me for twenty years and the source of great inspiration.   It seemed very fitting to say goodbye to my old life amongst its rolling hills and antique grave sites.

11
Oct
11

52 Pickup – 2 of Hearts – “Indie Mart”

I have the incredible honor of being the Manager of ArtReach Studios, our mission is to provide a full range of academic and integrated arts instruction and practice to promote personal and professional development in artists with developmental disabilities.  This year I arranged for us to participate in Indie Mart, an annual street festival celebrating independent arts and music that takes place in San Francisco.  We offered beautiful hand-made bags, wallets, prints, puppets, paintings, drawings and more for sale.   Amidst all these fantastic items I placed a buried treasure,  a  colossal card from the 52 Pickup Project.  I packaged and labeled it “Free for Pictures” and put an explanation of the project on the back.  My plan was to gift the tenth installment of this series to the first person who took an interest, and it worked!  It was adopted by someone who also purchased a handmade wallet, in the above pictures she holds both proudly.

03
Oct
11

52 Pickup – Five of Hearts “Playground”

I took my inner five-year-old at the playground. We climbed trees and rolled in the grass. I pushed her on swings, caught her on the slide, and cheered as she rode a wooden Dinosaur through ancient forests.  We laughed at our crazy reflection in the fun house mirror and ran squealing through the park in game after game of hide-and-go-seek.  We had a picnic lunch that on green park benches and afterwards full of love and attention my inner five-year-old napped on my lap. When it came time for us to part I made a tree house nest in the great branches of a powerful tree.  ”Now you have to stay here so I can attend to grown-up things.” I said as I settled her in.  I can’t wait to have time with my inner five-year-old again!  I wonder what other adventures will we get up to?

Five of Hearts is the ninth installment of the 52 Pickup Project, a weekly performance piece, journal and ritual offering.  that began July 4th 2011 and will end July 4th 2012.  I’m transforming a deck of Colossal Playing Cards, turning each into a unique piece of art.  Once a week for the next year I plan to make an offering of a card and blog about the experience.

 

19
Sep
11

52 Pickup – Queen of Spades “Fear No Art”

I was invited by Mark I Chester and Shilo McCabe to include my Strawberry Series in the Fear No Art exhibition that runs in conjunction with Leather Week & Folsom Street Fair. 

  Fear No Art is a group show of erotic/sexual photography that is by turns interesting, scary, funny, sexy, challenging and highly disturbing

The Strawberry Series was inspired by a social networking group for artists.  We   were challenged to create an erotic artwork involving imagery from nature that did not include the human form.  I decided to use my digital camera to focus on just one ripe, fresh, strawberry.  Exploring this delectable fruit from every angle revealed a world of sensual possibilities.  The more I shot the more I saw that echoed the mysterious and delicious curves found inside and out of people.  This single strawberry offered a variety that surprised and delighted me.  In the end I could not choose one picture but offered an entire collection to honor the complexity of this miniature edible landscape.  

For the 52 Pickup Project I commemorated the show by designing The Queen of Spades with a Strawberry image and gifted it to Shilo McCabe




Mim Weisburd – Artist, Writer, Performer


A canvas painted with original content from my creative explorations. A combination of ritual performance, mixed media, digital photography, poetry and prose.

mim.arts@yahoo.com

Please contact me in regards to upcoming performances and exhibitions, art sales, studio visits, commisions and custom work, trades, collaborations and interviews.

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