15 December 2014
Vol. IV, No. 232

From The Editor: This third week in December, William A. Balk, Jr. takes a break from tasks in his analog South Carolina garden . . . to write, to dream, and to imagine: “The garden, of course, has seasons other than Fall and Winter; there are tasks and janitorial duties all year long calling this conceptual gardener away from constructing the ideal, the Platonic, the Lewittian garden in the amorphous landscape of his mind. Dutifully, in the Spring and Summer I go about those tasks (most of them, anyway) just as I do my autumnal and brumalian labors. The physical garden and the imagined one are vastly different; I find; fortunately, each is fully rewarding to this gardener in its own way. It is not necessarily thus, however, for all the works of conceptual artists. I had known and experienced some of the work of Sol Lewitt; I had not known until relatively recently that he had created a piece, a work, as a garden—a conceptual garden . . .” Read on, Weekly Hubrisians. In unrelated contributions, we enter other, more wintry “gardens” via painter Meredith d’Ambrosio, currently “of Massachusetts”; and enjoy a thoroughly whimsical holiday video via Tim Bayer, our disc-golfing Webmaster-Engineer, filing from the snowy drifts of New York State. Happy Holidays! E.B.-H.

Autumn, by Giuseppe Arcimboldo.

“Autumn,” by Giuseppe Arcimboldo.

Epicurus’ Porch

“Gardening Is Not Conceptual Art” By William A. Balk, Jr

ELKO South Carolina—(Weekly Hubris)—12/15/2014— I sometimes think that I am a follower of Sol Lewitt in my approach to gardening: perhaps not so much committed to an aesthetic idea/ideal of the garden I am making, as I am utterly devoted to exhaustive thought about the garden-to-be, creating detailed plans for new layouts (and not so devoted to the physical creation itself). Fortunately, I derive enormous pleasure from the tasks and attention the plants and their setting require, once I break away from my conceptual reveries. (Read more . . .)

“Saturday Morning,” Eggshell Mosaic, 17” X 22” (1977).

“Saturday Morning,” Eggshell Mosaic, 17” X 22” (1977).

The Disappearing Land

“Wintry Autumn” By Meredith d’Ambrosio

DUXBURY Massachusetts—(Weekly Hubris)—12/15/2014—I find it difficult to paint an indoor scene: my works almost always expand into dimensions beyond the confines of a single room. The viewer is made aware here of the other side of the room by the reflection in the jug; and yet another part of the house appears outside, beyond the window. The reflection of the egg in the jug illustrates my sense of tongue-in-cheek (egg-in-jug?) humor, as I used the medium of eggshells to create this mosaic. (Read more . . .)

Oh, it's beautiful!

Oh, it’s beautiful!

Won Over By Reality

“Christmas Switch” By Tim Bayer

BRIGHTON New York—(Weekly Hubris)—12/15/2013—If you surfed into Weekly Hubris last year at this time, you would have seen singing animals in my post titled, “An Animal Jingle.” ‘Tis the season for another holiday-themed video. (Read more . . .)

Lightning in a bottle: Aikido.

Lightning in a bottle: Aikido.

Squibs & Blurbs

“The Big Smack, or How I Found Aikido” By Jerry Zimmerman

TEANECK New Jersey—(Weekly Hubris)—12/8/2014—It’s not often that you’re struck by lightning, particularly while you’re sitting in your living room quietly reading Esquiremagazine.

That’s exactly what happened to me.

For real.  (Read more . . .)

Ted, at the piano, and not alone.

Ted, at the piano, and not alone.

The Highest Cauldron

“A Piano Fool” By Anita Sullivan

EUGENE Oregon—(Weekly Hubris)—12/8/2014—Dear Ted,

Your Bluthner grand piano is going out the door tomorrow, on its way to a new owner. This is part of the enormous dismantling process that I seem to be orchestrating, ever since your death almost exactly two months ago. I don’t know why I have felt driven to so actively and vigorously—what shall I say, expunge? destroy? shatter? —my old life with you, rather than gently presiding over a slower and more organically normal process of dissipation, decay and renewal. (Read more . . .)

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