KNACK Magazine #44

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KNACK’S ULTIMATE AIM IS TO CONNECT &


3 we are dedicated to showcasing the work of new artists of all mediums and to discussing trends and ideas within art communities

KNACK’S ULTIMATE AIM IS TO CONNECT &ARTISTS INSPIRE & INSPIRE EMERGING EMERGING ARTISTS we strive to create a place for artists writers designers thinkers + innovators to collaborate and produce a unique, informative, and unprecedented web-based magazine each month


4 acceptable formats

10-12 high resolution images of your work. All should include pertinent caption information (name, date, medium, year).

PDF TIFF JPG

writers You may submit up to 5,000 words and as little as one. .doc We accept simultaneous submissions. No cover letter .docx necessary. All submissions must be 12pt, Times New RTF Roman, single or double-spaced with page numbers and include your name, e-mail, phone number, and genre. KNACK seeks writing of all kinds. We will even consider recipes, reviews, and essays. We seek writers whose work has a distinct voice, is character driven, and is subversive but tasteful. all submissions

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

photographers, graphic designers & studio artists

KNACK encourages all submitters to include a portrait, brief biography including name, age, current location, awards, contact info (no more than 200 words), as well as an artist statement, with their submission (no more than 500 words). We believe that your perspective of your work and process is as lucrative as the work itself. This may range from your upbringing and/or education as an artist, what type of work you produce, inspirations, etc. If there are specifications or preferences concerning the way in which your work is to be displayed please include them. Please title files for submission with the name of the piece. This applies for both writing and visual submissions.

KNACKMAGAZINE1 @ GMAIL.COM subject: Submission Photography / Studio Art Creative Writing / Graphic Design


5 is requesting material to be reviewed. Reviews extend to any culture-related event that

@ = at

KNACK

may be happening in the community in which you live. Do you know of an exciting show or exhibition opening? Is there an art collective in your city that deserves some press? Are you a musician, have a band, or are a filmmaker? Send us your CD, movie, or titles of upcoming releases which you’d like to see reviewed in KNACK. We believe that reviews are essential to creating a dialogue about the arts. If something thrills you, we want to know about it and share it with the KNACK community—no matter if you live in the New York or Los Angeles, Montreal or Mexico.

All review material can be sent to knackmagazine1@ gmail.com. Please send a copy of CDs and films to 4319 North Greenview Ave, Chicago, IL 60613. If you would like review material returned to you include return postage and packaging. Entries should contain pertinent details such as name, year, release date, websites and links (if applicable). For community events we ask that information be sent up to two months in advance to allow proper time for assignment and review.

We look forward to seeing and hearing your work.


6 andrea catalina vaca co-founder, director, photo editor, marketing, digital operations jonathon duarte co-founder, design director ariana lombardi co-founder, executive editor, writer fernando gaverd designer, digital operations, marketing chelsey alden editor, writer jake goodman designer bFrank designer juraj gagne proofreader subscribe theknackmagazine.com


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submission guidelines

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ta l e n t alex mott

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sam l. landman margaret hyde

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eve picher

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alicia morris

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cake x pie

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cover fernando gaverd

qu ick l o ok

spreads a.c. vaca


FORTY FOUR

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alex mott Alex Mott is a 24-year-old visual artist living in Chicago’s Logan Square neighborhood. Born, raised, and educated in Virginia, he moved to Chicago in 2015. He works as a freelance photographer/videographer. He graduated from James Madison University’s School of Media Arts and Design where he concentrated in Digital Video and Cinema and minored in Creative Writing.


9 sam l. landman Sam was born in the South, amidst a patch of kudzu somewhere in Roebuck during the sun-drenched 70s. During the day, he works as a copywriter for an ad agency in the Twin Cities where he’s written for just about any medium you can name. When not working, he writes plays, the occasional screenplay, sketches for a local comedy troupe, proof-of-concept superhero scripts, go-nowhere comic books, fan fiction about foppish 80s bands or teleplays for puppets.


10 margaret hyde Margaret Hyde was born and raised in Memphis, Tennessee. She began her own, mostly self-taught, photographic training at the age of 10 and grew up amidst the Memphis art community. Hyde became acquainted with photographer William Eggleston and was inspired by his work. In addition to art and filmmaking, she is also a children’s book author and publisher. Hyde now lives in Santa Monica with her husband Chris Gough and their three children.


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eve picher Eve Picher was born in Saint-Hyacinthe, Quebec, Canada, in 1974. She was introduced to watercolor by her father when she was ten and began using oil paints in her teens. She received four years of training in drawing and painting with the artists Francine Labelle and Yves Durand. She also studied philosophy, literature, theatre, massage therapy, dreams and yoga, while regularly writing poetry. She has been painting steadily for more then twenty years and has exhibited in Canada and the United States. She has studied literature at College de Maisonneuve and Fines Arts at Bishop University (Canada), Concordia University (Canada), Adams State University (Colorado) and the University of New Mexico. Eve will be exhibiting at Santa Fe Public Library South Branch, May 1st - 30th. eve.picher@gmail.com evepicher.com


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KNACK an acquired or natural skill at performing a task an adroit way of doing something a clever trick or stratagem


14 ALEX MOTT _

As a result of my education in video and media, I gravitated toward photography as a way of honing my cinematographic eye. When I moved to Chicago in the fall of 2015, I clung to my camera as a means of connecting with and mapping my new environment, which led to a voracious appetite for growth. I strive to capture the beauty I see in all corners of my world and hope to instill the same sense of wonderment in my audience which moves me to capture my subjects. I try to find inspiration in everything, not limiting myself to any one area of photography. As a child, I remember a picture of Seattle’s Space Needle piercing through low-hanging clouds that hung in my parents’ bedroom. It was so ethereal, and it connected deeply with my imagination. It is this quality that I aim to bring to all of my art. I don’t know what the future holds but there is always room for growth.


light dusting

be still

before the fall

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behind the curtain

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caught up in it


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places to go

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portrait of a good boy


the primary objective

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city sight


urban oasis

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dying light


wash it all away

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24 S A M L. LANDMAN

After spending four years writing for a blog called Regret-A-Day (which is exactly what it sounds like), I decided to carve out something new. This is how I stumbled onto the idea for One-Act-A-Week (which is exactly what it sounds like, too).

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During the span of a year, I wrote a single one-act every week, the basic rules being the following: • If you’ve got nothing to start with, write anyway • Never aim for a specific page count or length • Overthinking is your greatest enemy • Write in a genre you didn’t tackle last week • Post a brand-new one-act every single Monday In the end, I found myself sitting on 52 one-act plays: all different characters, all different stories, all different genres from week to week. And guess what. You’re about to read Week One’s contribution. Want to read all 52? Knock yourself out: oneactaweek.tumblr.com. (And if you want to produce one, hit me up.)


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any major dude It’s July 1976 in Los Angeles. We’re in a dingy bar in the middle of the warm night. Various barflies mingle amongst the cigarette smoke, which hangs dead in the air. On the far right of the stage, there’s a partition that indicates a men’s bathroom. Two urinals are perched on the upstage wall. Two tables sit across from each other at the farthest ends of the room. At the STL table sits a dark-featured guy (DONALD FAGEN) & a longhaired, bearded guy in largerimmed glasses (WALTER BECKER). Collectively, they’re known as Steely Dan. At the STR table sits an afroed guy in black (DON HENLEY) & a long-haired, mustachioed good old boy, who appears to be stoned out of his gourd (GLENN FREY). They’re the creative force behind the Eagles. Ambient bar chatter & soft rock of the time period can be heard throughout. FAGEN & HENLEY stare each other down, while conversations between the two camps are intermingled.


26 DON HENLEY – Look at those pompous assholes over there. GLENN FREY – Where? Who are you talking about? HENLEY – At the table across from us. FREY looks directly at FAGEN & BECKER. HENLEY – Whoa! Wait. Don’t actually look. FREY – Well, how the hell am I supposed to look where you want me to look if you don’t want me to look? HENLEY – Glenn, just look over there when they’re not looking. Jesus. FREY – Well, I can’t fucking do that, Don. It’s physically fucking impossible. HENLEY – Okay, fine, you bumpkin. Just glance over the length of the bar. And when you come to the bookworm in the tweed jacket, they’re sitting at the table in front of him. FREY pans his gaze slowly. HENLEY – You see them? FREY – I’m not there yet. (finally seeing them) Alright. What am I looking at? HENLEY – So, you see them. FREY – Yeah. Who are they? HENLEY – Shit. Look away. They see us. HENLEY & FREY avert their eyes. FAGEN stares back at them. BECKER drinks. D O N A L D FA G E N – Fucking yuppie shitkickers. WA LT E R B E C K E R – What are you saying? FA G E N – That’s right. Take it all in, you faux white trash posers. B E C K E R – Yo, Fagen. I’m right here. You mind telling me what’s going on in your brainpan?


27 FA G E N – Yeah, yeah. Sorry. B E C K E R – ‘Cause I don’t see a point in coming here to talk shit about Skunk Baxter if you’re not gonna include me in on the conversation. Takes all the fun out of it. FA G E N – Look, Walt, I’m sorry, okay? These assholes really get in my craw. B E C K E R – Who the fuck are you talking about for Christ’s sake? FA G E N – Take a long look across the dancefloor. I mean, don’t look look. Just look. See those two longhairs? B E C K E R – Oh my God. Is that…? Nooooo. It can’t be. FA G E N – That’s them alright. HENLEY – What, you don’t recognize them? FREY – Don, I’m fucking baked. I’m lucky I can keep my eyes open. HENLEY – Well, it’s them alright. These next three exchanges happen in unison. FA G E N – It’s the Eagles.

HENLEY – It’s Steely Dan.

B E C K E R – Who? FREY – Who? FA G E N – The Eagles!

HENLEY – Steely Dan!

B E C K E R – Oh, man. I was way off. FREY – The fucking Dan?!?! Righteous. FA G E N – Walt, don’t make me repeat myself like that. You know how I hate it. B E C K E R – Sorry, Fagen. I could have sworn that was Toni Tennille. You know how I… FA G E N – Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard all your Tennille masturbation fantasies before. HENLEY – What do you mean, “righteous?” Those guys are a threat to everything we stand for.


28 FREY – Oh, please. Are you listening to yourself ? You need to seriously chill out, man. You know, mellow. Why you gotta be harshing on the Dan, Henley? HENLEY – Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Glenn. That’s right. You probably don’t remember any of this because of your purple fucking haze. But while you were out scoring dope on the Strip, my dumbass was deflecting phone calls from Elektra, who wanted On The Border delivered on time. My bad. You were too busy focusing on the important things, like sucking dick for dimebags. And here I was hustling session guys to re-record the parts you’d already fucked up. Stupid, stupid me. But don’t worry about it. Seriously. As long as it doesn’t kill your precious fucking buzz, everything’s hunky-dory. FREY – Whoa. Just whoa. Pull the handbrake, Don. Slow the train down. We didn’t use session musicians for On The Border, dude. HENLEY – (looking around to people nearby) Glenn Frey, ladies and gentlemen. Give his brain a standing-O for showing up to the fucking conversation. FREY – Harsh, man. HENLEY – Look, the reason I’m “harshing on the Dan” is because those dickheads had every gunslinger from here to Vallejo booked solid for nine months last year. And I’m not just talking guitarists. Tabla players, fuckers with dobros, you name it. If I wasn’t able to get you clean for that week, those were my only options. And those sanctimonious, high horse fucks nearly got us into seriously hot water with the label. FREY – Wait, wait, wait, wait. It’s my fault now? Great. Well, that’s cool, man. That’s all cool breeze, you know? But looky here. I’m not the one born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I’ve struggled my whole life just to… HENLEY does a mocking violin motion with his arms. HENLEY (interrupting) – Boo-fucking-hoo. FREY – (continuing) …you know, to get where I am. Fuck you, Don. So sue me if I skip out on session or a rehearsal because I didn’t play exactly how the drummer wanted. HENLEY – In literature, I believe they call this “foreshadowing.” Across the room, Steely Dan’s conversation is less heated. FAGEN continues to eye FREY & HENLEY


29 at the other end of the bar as BECKER is in mid-story. B E C K E R – …and you know Skunk. He loves those little chocolate pudding cups. So, we take all of them out of the fridge over there in the canteen. You know, the one past the receptionist’s desk? We scoop them out, stick all that pudding into little baggies and shove them under that cushion Skunk’s always sitting on in the studio. And when he comes in to lay down that part for “Bodhisattva,” he fucking… (suddenly overtaken by giggling) FA G E N – They’re talking about us right now. I can feel it. B E C K E R – Jesus, Fagen. I’m spinning this funny ass yarn about Skunk and you’re not even listening. Fine. I’ll start over. So, Skunk, he loves those little chocolate pudding cups, right? FA G E N – You know, they can talk smack about us all they want. I could honestly give two rat shits. But part of me wants to go over there and tell them that if Gram Parsons were alive and heard what they’re doing to country music, he’d shove a .45 up his own ass and pull the trigger until he spit up lead loogies. B E C K E R – Oh, like you really care. Back at Bards, you told me you hated what Parsons did to the Byrds. Shit, you don’t have a dog in this fight. You don’t even like country music. FA G E N – Hey, I’d put Hoyt Axton up against Oscar Peterson any day of the week. That’s not the point. The point is, they’ve taken the essence of a heartfelt musical genre and homogenized it for public consumption. That is the point, my friend. And that’s something I just can’t abide by. B E C K E R – What the hell do you think we’re doing? Have you ever actually listened to any Steely Dan albums? We play album-oriented jazz-slash-R&B for the masses. If you’re calling the Eagles out, step back and take a long, hard look at us, then make a judgment call. FA G E N – (bringing hand to forehead) That hurts, Walter. That really hurts. B E C K E R – (physically consoling him) Don’t cry, Fagen. FAGEN – Get offa’ me. I’m not crying! B E C K E R – Look, the way I see it, there’s very little difference between us and them. FA G E N – Are you fucking kidding me?


30 B E C K E R – Hear me out. We’re both in bands that started with nothing. Playing shitty bar joints for crowds that didn’t appreciate us at the time. FREY is still talking to HENLEY as his & BECKER’s conversations become entangled. FREY – And now these same crowds are buying our albums, hearing our songs on the radio, most of them buying tickets to Steely Dan and Eagles concerts. B E C K E R – Hell, the Eagles and Steely Dan shit gold records. We both dominate the charts and sell out venues left and fucking right. FREY – The critics hate us equally with a passion. B E C K E R – And yet workaday schlubs hum our music in subways, in their cars, washing dishes at their 9-to-5’s… FREY – But we both make music that affect people in a real way. B E C K E R – We are and always will be lumped into the same damn category as them. FREY – We’ll be shoved in the same fucking album racks at Sam Goody. B E C K E R – Steely Dan will never be put in R&B. FREY – The Eagles will never be shelved in the country section. B E C K E R – Or jazz. FREY – Or whatever the fuck we actually think we are. B E C K E R – So I say we enjoy the ride while it lasts. FREY – It’s our collective moment in the sun, man. The 70’s gotta end sometime. B E C K E R – Besides, some young punks are bound to come along and knock us off the charts eventually, right? FA G E N – I know I’ve said this before, but right now I really mean it. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Walt. About anything. HENLEY – God, you’re so fucking high right now. I honestly didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve never realistically been this high before. Are you aware of that?


31 B E C K E R – (rising from seat) Okay, I gotta hit the head. BECKER crosses to the men’s room & enters. He immediately stands with his back to us at the urinal. FREY – (rising from seat) Fine, man. You don’t have to listen to me, but tomorrow I’ll be clean and you’ll still be a fucking asshole. FREY goes to the men’s room & enters, spotting BECKER at the urinal. FREY sidles up to him & uses the urinal next to him. Several beats go by. FREY – How goes it? B E C K E R – Hey, if I complained, who would listen, am I right? FREY – I’m digging you hard, me compadre. BECKER slips his free hand into his back pocket, producing a small baggie of cocaine. At the exact same time, FREY slips his free hand into his back pocket, producing a perfectly folded wad of cash. Without missing a beat, they exchange one for the other: BECKER slipping coke into FREY’s back pocket & FREY slipping the money into BECKER’s back pocket. It’s a seamless, almost too choreographed process that’s obviously happened many times before. Both guys tuck their dicks in & step away from their respective urinals, facing each other. FREY – (patting his back pocket) This the same stuff ? B E C K E R – Quality product for quality people. FREY – Grapevine says there’s killer shit coming out of Montenegro. B E C K E R – Depends on who you talk to, really. I mean Leif Garret can’t get enough of Montenegro, but it seriously fucked up Three Dog Night. FREY – Fucking lightweights. B E C K E R – Ha! Right on. FREY – So, you guys working on anything? Going on tour or whatever?


32 B E C K E R – Tour, no. We’re done with touring. Hashing out some new stuff down the street. FREY – Oh. Sound Labs? B E C K E R – Yeah, yeah. Probably won’t come out for a while. Shit, next year, knowing Fagen. FREY – Well, I’ve said it before, I don’t think you guys are ever gonna top The Royal Scam. That’s still my Sunday afternoon, bliss-out record. B E C K E R – You might be surprised with this one, man. It’s ambitious. FREY – How many tracks? B E C K E R – Guess. FREY – I don’t know. 14? B E CKE R – Lower. FREY – Ummmm, 10? B E CKE R – Seven. FREY – You’re shitting me. B E CKE R – Nope. FREY – Why don’t you just change your names to Emerson, Lake and Palmer while you’re at it? They both share a belly laugh. B E C K E R – Oh, those guys suck so much. And what are you guys up to? FREY – Just finishing shit up at the Record Plant. Kinda hush-hush. B E C K E R – Damn, Glenn. You’re keeping secrets from me? FREY – Okay, I’ll tell you, Becker, but seriously, man. Keep this under your hat ‘cause this shit could be the biggie. WALTER does the “lock lips/throw away the key” gesture.


33 FREY – It’s a – okay, get this – it’s a concept album about (whispers) California. B E C K E R – Now who’s Emerson, Lake and Palmer? FREY – I know. Right? They both laugh together again. FREY – (completely serious, coming out of a laugh) But seriously, don’t let it get back to Henley. He scares the shit out of me sometimes. B E C K E R – Secret’s safe with me. FREY – Well, we should probably get back out there, huh? B E C K E R – Guess so. I’ll go first. Give me 10 seconds. FREY – Solid. BECKER starts to leave. FREY – Hey, Becker. BECKER turns back around. FREY – This ride ain’t ever gonna end, is it? B E C K E R – No. Never. See you, Glenn. BECKER leaves & sits back down with FAGEN. FA G E N – What, did you fall in? B E C K E R – Ummmm... no. FREY strolls out nonchalantly & sits down next to HENLEY. HENLEY – You giving ½ of the Dan a tug job in there or something? FREY – Yeah, Don. That’s exactly what happened. B E C K E R – Maybe we should split. Katz is gonna be pissed if we’re not there when Shorter shows up.


34 FA G E N – I’m not going anywhere yet. B E C K E R – Donald, c’mon. We’ve been gone a long time. FA G E N – Not until they leave. HENLEY – Seriously, what’s that supposed to mean? FREY – It don’t mean nothing, man. Shit. Let it fucking go. HENLEY – I know you, Glenn. Better than you think. Now, you tell me. What went on in there? FREY – Fuck you, Don, alright? You were able to treat Meisner or Leadon like this, but not me, you hear me? Fuck this noise. FREY gets up to leave. FA G E N – (to himself) Okay. Here we go. HENLEY – Glenn, man, wait! FREY stops, but doesn’t turn to face him. HENLEY – (softly backpedaling) Sit down, man. Let’s wait until they leave. Please. FREY sits back down. FA G E N – (to himself) Shit. FREY – You’re an asshole, you know that? HENLEY – I know. Just don’t leave me with them. B E C K E R – This is stupid, Fagen. This is the kind of shit you rail against constantly. Machismo chest pounding. FA G E N – Walter, look, it’s more than that, alright? The Eagles are absolutely sodomizing us in the charts. And the company’s really riding our ass about it. B E C K E R – Jesus. C’mon. FA G E N – I know it’s immature and completely out of character, but for once I


35 want to beat them at something. B E C K E R – Even if it means staying in an absolute shithole longer than them? FA G E N – I’m the first to admit that I’m a sad, little man. FREY – I mean, how long are you gonna let this play out? HENLEY – I don’t know, man. As long as it takes. I just want them to leave first, that’s all. B E C K E R – The way they’re drinking, that could be all night. FA G E N – Look, you leave if you want. I need to see this through. BECKER – What about Katz? FA G E N – Fuck Katz. We’re paying him remember? B E CKE R – Okay. BECKER gets up, looks towards the Eagles gives a little upturned nod in their direction & exits. FAGEN sees none of this. HENLEY – What the fuck was that about? FREY – What was what about? What the fuck are you even talking about? Can we just leave? HENLEY – No, they’re not gone yet. FREY – Half of them is. HENLEY – Not yet. FREY – Alright. I’m done. FREY gets up. HENLEY – Where are you going? FREY – Evening this shit out.


36 FREY leaves, but knocks on FAGEN’s table as he passes by, singing the following lyrics from the song. “The Royal Scam” as he leaves. FREY – “Turn up the Eagles, the neighbors are listeniiiiinnnng.” FAGEN – (to himself) Fucking hippie. HENLEY & FAGEN sit there, staring at each other for an almost painful amount of time. All the while, nothing is said. FAGEN raises his hand, flagging down a waiter & pointing at his empty glass. HENLEY see this & does the same. HENLEY – I’ve got all night, you pretentious windbag. FAGEN – I’m here until sun-up, you hayseed. Drinks arrive. Both drink, but neither shifts their gaze. Another 15 seconds of intense staring, until… HENLEY – I’m gonna fucking bury you. FA G E N – I’m staring at a fucking corpse.


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The staring continues for 45 more seconds, during which everyone in the bar except for FAGEN & HENLEY begins walking & talking in slow motion. Steely Dan’s “Black Cow” begins to play. FAGEN & HENLEY continue to stare while downing their drinks.

blackout


38 MARGARET HYDE _

When I pick up my camera, the lens becomes my quiet eye, and through it, I try to “see into the life of things.� Putting aside my point of view, I shoot those things that make me pause. I am one with my camera and whatever I am shooting. Time stops. There is no past or future. I am open to the scars, cracks, the imperfections, as well as the beauty of symmetry, shadow and light. I treasure and study the things that most people would step on or walk right by. I marvel at the strength and beauty of every bit that has been at the mercy of the sun and the wind. Each one taking its beatings and being blown along with all the marks of the journey, which is made more interesting with all of its simplicity. I honor the beauty of imperfection and struggle. For me there are no castaways, just treasures. My work is a meditation on what it means to be whole and radiant as a result of our grappling with the struggles and imperfections, not in spite of them.


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WEEPING BUTTERFLY


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41 CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT FUCHSIA DANDELION INTREPID DANDELION COSMIC CAPSULE TURQUOISE DANDELION


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CLOCKWISE FROM ABOVE GREAT ESCAPE IN FLIGHT FEATHERED SEED WINGED POD


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REUNION


DANDELION STA R

The concept of transformation through photography extends to every facet of Hyde’s daily life, as she remains active in service, justice and equality. Along with her family, Hyde helped to found Hyde Family Foundations (hff), a charitable body that supports the National Civil Rights Museum, Memphis and among others. In 2008, Hyde produced the Academy and Emmy-nominated documentary short, The Witness: From the Balcony of Room 306. In addition to art and filmmaking, she is also a children’s book author and publisher, with titles including Dreadilocks and the Three Slugs, the “Great Art for Kids” series and the “Mo’s Nose” series.

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In 2007, Hyde accompanied a documentary film crew to capture the unique beauty of Bhutan. This was followed up in 2008 with an invitation from President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf to photograph orphanages and rebuilding efforts in Liberia.

COSMIC DANDELION

She has participated in dozens of group exhibitions, as well as being featured in solo shows in Los Angeles in 2011 and New York in 2015. Two of her pieces were chosen to greet attendees at the Spectrum Art Fair as part of events surrounding Art Basel Miami 2014. Her work is held in private collections including the Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital in Boston, MA and the Laddie John Dill Private Collection.


48 EVE PICHER _

What brought me to painting was the desire to change society in the places and ways which so many are treated like garbage and nature is abused on a daily basis. To make such change, I think we first have to create new possibilities in human consciousness: to suggest fresh blueprints to our imagination, a new way to feel, experience, interpret and live reality. During more than two decades of research, I created paintings that, by their composition, dynamics, movement and presence, reconnect the viewer to some deep understanding, to that part of us that recognizes the sacredness in every living being. Through my works, I offer a vast and light inner space; a subtle impression of openness. As I manifest psychological solutions, I root out obsolete beliefs and thought patterns and make room for a primeval energy that rekindles our sense of wonder and instinctual respect for life’s integrity.


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CLOUD acrylic on canvas 60 x 36, 2016


50 AT T H E B E G I N N I N G acrylic on canvas 48 x 48

A N C E S TO R S RO OTS acrylic on canvas 60 x 30, 2016


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BU F FA LO acrylic on canvas 36 x 60, 2016


52 LIZARD acrylic on canvas 36 x 60, 2016

RALPH acrylic on canvas 48 x 48, 2016


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PA N i i acrylic on canvas 60 x 48, 2016

FULL MOON acrylic on canvas 60 x 36, 2016


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WA X I N G M O O N acrylic on canvas 60 x 36, 2017

WINTER MOON acrylic on canvas 48 x 48, 2016


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WOLF MOON acrylic on canvas 60 x 36, 2016


QUICK LOOK

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clockwise, from right:

A Girl I Knew

Still Life With Narwhal

forjunefour


57 ALICIA MORRIS

Alicia is a thirty-year-old currently living in upstate New York perpetual scatterbrain who paints, photos, builds, and writes some things sometimes. The pieces shown here were all created for different people with love being the common theme.


QUICK LOOK

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59 CAKE X PIE

clockwise, from left:

Explained

48 Nights

Cosmonaut

Cake x Pie began in 2011 as an abstract graffiti artist, graffitiing the word “home,� and evolving from there. Quickly becoming attracted to the relation between graffiti and stickers, Cake x Pie converted his medium to adhesives, drawing real life imagery onto blank adhesives, accompanied by his signature logo (an Egyptian head). Cake x Pie spread throughout the El Paso area immersing himself in a sort of adhesive street art. Since then, Cake x Pie has been featured in contemporary galleries & local establishments with unique and abstract drawings, recreating animals in their natural habitat.


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SUBMIT + SUBSCRIBE


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