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rubroohphotography · 10 months
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jessstokesmusic · 1 year
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First time I’ve handed out tickets with my name on them! If you’re in Edmonton Dec 10! Come out to the show! 😀
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It’s a Magicial Thing
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thebyronmcbride · 1 year
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A record of Friday night. I think it's done? Is it? That doesn't feel possible... I took out the rock at the bottom right because it wasn't working for me. The mysterious island looks pretty mysterious... Maybe it is done? I was considering adding a couple more elements, but I think it will get too crowded. I am going to have it so that it can be hung with any side at the top. That is very necessary! I still don't have a name for it... Terra Magnifica is the current working title. I want to use a name from an old exploration journal, but I've come to understand googling that is rather difficult somehow. One week until the @nightofartists @amyshouseedmonton gala. Two more paintings and six prints to pull. I've got this... I'm just going to lay down for a minute first though 😂 #art #artist #artlovers #artlife #myart #artistsoninstagram #vancityarts #yvrarts #yvr #yycarts #yyc #yeg #yegarts #yxe #yxearts #yqrarts #yqr #instaart #instaartist #edmontonart #edmonton #picoftheday #scifiart #fantasyart #painting #fineart #yeglife #yegliving #acrylicpainting #whimsical (at Treaty No. 6 Territory) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpp1huZL3Qt/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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chaoskaitlyn · 1 year
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Pumpkin Lollipop with Cute Bats Tattoo Design by @chaoskaitlyn
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beansfordinner · 1 year
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yegarts · 2 years
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The Vaulted Willow House
Edmonton’s public art collection has something for everyone, and has provided the inspiration for many a photoshoot, cookie, and even Halloween costume. But when it comes to design inspiration, one local couple has proclaimed their love of public art a little more boldly than the rest.
For Jen Waters and her husband Jeff, when deciding on a new colour palette for their home’s exterior, they had a particular public artwork in mind: Borden Park’s Vaulted Willow by artist Marc Fornes & THEVERYMANY.
We recently caught up with Jen Waters, also known as “Jen the Feisty Librarian,” to find out more.
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Originally from Vancouver, Jen has lived in Alberta for 17 years (12 of those in Edmonton). She’s a librarian with a side hustle selling silly oatmeal and other twitter-inspired merch. She loves dresses with pockets, gardening, terrible Nic Cage movies, walks with her husband Jeff and dog Dolly Pawton, and of course, public art.
When asked about her favourite public artworks, Jen says she is usually more drawn to paintings and murals than sculpture, noting a particular fondness for Edmonton artists Jill Stanton and AJA Louden.
All that changed when Jen first saw Vaulted Willow. She thought “it was some sort of alien as opposed to a tree” and the work inspired her to take notice of other sculptural public artworks in Edmonton. She said she has “loved getting to explore [Vaulted Willow] on frequent dog walks to Borden Park, seeing it from many angles and watching families and others interacting with it.”
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"I love the quirky beauty of it, the geometry of it means that light shines through in a playful way and looks different in early morning, midday and sunset light as well as throughout the seasons. I'm big on adults getting to experience a sense of wild abandon that they often only recall from childhood, and I think the "Vaulted Willow" instantly invites people of all ages to move under and through the sculpture."
In preparing to repaint their home, the pair reached out to the artist to find the exact shades used in the artwork, wanting to stay true to the original. Jen says, “my husband and I just really love the colours of the Vaulted Willow as we walk past it nearly every day, and since buying a built in 1995 peach-coloured house last September, we've wanted to paint it something more vibrant and memorable. For us, the Vaulted Willow colours really fit that bill. Jeff emailed artist Marc Fornes and he was kind enough to send us the pantone codes for all the colours used in the sculpture.”
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“We've had great feedback so far,” says Jen, when asked what it’s like having an “internet famous” house. “People stop for selfies and house photos, but I believe I enjoy having an internet-famous house more than my husband does. My dog also isn't a big fan of people outside her house. If anyone doesn't like it, they haven't told us about it yet.”
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While Jen has currently has no other plans to match things to public art, she’d happily be inspired by art again in the future.
You can keep up with Jen on Twitter and Instagram. You can also find Jeff on Twitter, where he shares his incredible #TheDailyWillow shots.
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Learn more about the City of Edmonton Public Art Collection at edmontonpublicart.ca. Who knows, you might find the inspiration for your next home renovation!
Photos supplied by Jen Waters.
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whataboutivan · 2 years
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cgpimagery · 3 years
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Cold Stares . . . . . . #art #artlover #photoedit #photoediting #photographylovers #photographer #photography #photographie #photographyeveryday #photomanipulation #digitalart #digitalartist #artist #artofinstagram #yegartist #yegphotography #yegphotographer #edmontonphotography #edmontonart #edmontonartist #yegart #graphic #magpies #magpiesofinstagram #birds #birdsofinstagram #bird #birdart #birdphotography #magpie (at Edmonton, Alberta) https://www.instagram.com/p/CUaIC3CgO-x/?utm_medium=tumblr
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rubroohphotography · 11 months
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Pink side of my life 💗
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This week, I'm pleased to have Alberta contemporary artist Veronica Funk on Inside the Studio artist interviews. 😊 Please join us this Wednesday at 2:30 pm MDT as we chat about her private studio, her artistic vision and thoughts about mentoring artists. Veronica is a central Alberta artist who practices in primarily acrylic and mixed media. She is an inspiring storyteller, mentor and full time artist. Check out Veronica Funks amazing artwork on:
IG: @veronicafunk
WEB: www.veronicafunk.com Youtube: youtube.com/VeronicaFunk #artists #yyc #yycart #luartist #levellingup #yycarts #artforinteriors #contemporaryart #albertarts #landscapeartist #eisenbarthart #eisenbarthartstudio #yycdaily #canadianart #canadianartist #calgaryart #edmontonart #FineArt #galleries #womenartists #womenwhocreate #yqlarts #yycartists #artcollector #yxh 👏🏻 To see all the artist interviews, please visit Instagram IGTV on my profile page. (at Eisenbarth Art) https://www.instagram.com/p/CVLs2oZB0YK/?utm_medium=tumblr
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JUST BE THE BEST
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thebyronmcbride · 1 year
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@nightofartists day one sketches! Thank you to everyone who came out to see all the amazing Art and Artists at the art walk today! It was great to see so many people out, and we all appreciated it. Thank you to those who brought me gummis like I'm 8yo because apparently I am 8yo and I needed those gummis to keep living 😂 Night of Artists is 10 am - 5 pm tomorrow with the Gala afterwards from 7-10pm. You will need tickets for the Gala, but it is a brilliant time! #art #artist #artlovers #artlife #myart #artistsoninstagram #vancityarts #yvrarts #yvr #yycarts #yyc #yeg #yegarts #yxe #yxearts #yqrarts #yqr #artshow #artwalk #whimsical #edmontonart #edmonton #picoftheday #scifiart #fantasyart #painting #fineart #yeglife #yegliving #sketch (at Bonnie Doon Centre) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp6iNr0Lyi6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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chaoskaitlyn · 1 year
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Flower Tattoo Design by @chaoskaitlyn
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mellorcomic · 3 years
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Tonight (Sept 18th) Come check out some top tier stand up comedy in Edmonton’s Grindstone theatre! 7pm
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yegarts · 2 years
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Yorath House Studio Residency: Words and images from the artists
In the first update from Thea Bowering and Jody Shenkarek, the current Yorath House Artist Studio artists in residence, the duo shared initial reflections, prose excerpts, and images. As they continue their residency, Thea and Jody have graciously shared more of their work. 
Continuation of "Piece of the River" by Thea Bowering, accompanied by images from Jody Shenkarek
7. A serial poem has something to do with not looking back, so as not to build or explain. Let latent memory take care of the path. Receive what comes, don't rush towards it. Go forward, but delay getting there. Be carried and work across the current. Or meander. Or whirl. This is what the river suggests. The river is old and experienced, but also always new. And in most places along it, you can't see a beginning or end. It will surprise you, moving in unexpected directions at times. "My God, Edmonton--look out!" was the only warning sent down the river in 1915, as it rose up fast, flooded its banks, destroyed homes and industry, and deposited minerals for things to grow. It rises up now to meet your fingers on a keyboard. It rises up to push the naïve song out your chest.
Unlike walking through a serial poem, when walking in the bush, it is smart always to stop and look back. This is what Aapi'si, the coyote, teaches. This is what I read on an information post along the garden path at the new, beautiful Indigenous Peoples Experience at Fort Edmonton Park. Whenever a coyote runs away, he looks back. If you only ever look ahead, you don't see the danger behind you---- Harley Bastien, Piikani, Blackfoot.
Today's path takes us to the last telephone pole, which marks where the bush meets the circumference of lawn around Yorath. It's the pole we saw from the small porch the first day here, when a pileated woodpecker was banging its head repeatedly against it. I think about the early surveyors, forging their way forward west with their meridians, listening to telegraph clicks down the line to determine the longitude in Edmonton. I wonder if they were ever thrown off by a giant woodpecker banging away, completing its own project. "Let's turn back," J. says when we reach the pole. I am hesitant about going back down the same path. I never like doing that. It seems like a waste of time. "But you see things differently going back," J. says. In that way, it's not the same path. It's a new path. This seems like a good argument. On the way back I see a Tim Horton's cup, some old tent poles. "Well, the way back is filled with garbage," I say, as we make our way forward, going back, open-mouthed and singing like angels, the garbage of history piling up before our eyes.
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8. In an early survey map of Edmonton, the part along the river I am writing on is a blank space. White paper. There is a rectangle of Bay reserve land that looks like a giant skyscraper, a couple smaller lots huddled against its west flank, and then the river fades out like a paint stroke and falls south off the map.
How did those surveyors, alone at night, culminating with the moon, heads in the stars, turn from the sky to the ground with a chain to measure, and cut it all up? What occurred in that moment each time, again and again, when an Englishman turned his head from the awesome sky to the ground? In the universe, he saw only himself inside a small and repeating rectangle, walking along in a rhythm with little variation, until the grid was fully laid out and he no longer needed to look up.
I think of the ghost pipe, that lives its short, lyrical life with its face to the earth. Its star system underground. It gets nothing from light, pulls all it needs from the dark and the roots of others, like a parasite. I can't help being moved by the mystery of some reverse tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Knowing the time is near, Ghost Pipe gathers nerve and straightens up, puts its face to the sun--whom it loved all along--then turns completely black and dies.
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12. Today we come to the other side of the river for a change of scenery. I lean against the railing of "The End of the World," a row of pillars left from where an old farmer's road fell down into the river, on land that, earlier, had been repossessed from an industrialist who lost everything in a flood. From our Yorath side, the row of pillars reminds me of a soaring baroque pipe organ made of cement, or the ladyfingers of a partially eaten tiramisu cake. For around two decades it was left like that. This seems characteristic of what's been going on here for decades. Once in a while a person walks down a sidewalk in Edmonton only to find it suddenly end, without logic, no warning or alternate route. Historic materials, supposedly saved for memorializing, are left in a field until they mysteriously disappear--Charlie Stevenson's stone chimney, and the dismantled logs of Fort Edmonton. Old farmhouses standing near the highway, soften. History merges sensually with setting.
At "The End of The Word," young people, always attracted to ruin, shimmied past the no trespassing sign, to make out beside the ragged edge or dangle their legs over it. In 2019, the edge was transformed into a viewing platform, a kind of stage over the river valley.
J. has brought her small guitar, and a saw for me to play. My Scottish grandfather, who I never met, played the saw. I feel so distant from these ancestors and the lives they built, only a few generations back. I have inherited their nameless, tight-lipped faces in oval cardboard frames. Bits of copper, a precious tree ornament. I am the last in line: no siblings, no children. I often wonder where all this material will go, once I'm gone. Perhaps to a thrift store, eventually picked out and included in some future person's ironic art project.
With the wrong placement between the knees, the saw might get dulled by clothing, J. says. I probably won't pursue it. It is hard on the hand, unfamiliar and difficult to bend into the shape of the letter S. From up here, we can see the way this part of the river bends to fit the map's idea of it. A snaking S sustained for as long as possible across the prairies. From the other side of the broad river, comes a single dog's bark, amplified in the silence. Yorath House appears small, our things inside, nestled in the green that rolls up from the river and expands out, far-reaching and lush, in any direction so that it's remarkable to think of words like "city" or "Edmonton." This green looks like a past we imagine. Something whole, not invented like a park. It's hard from here to picture all the industry that once muddied the banks and erased the trees. But it occasionally appears in traces: I pick up a broken brick in the woods, a limestone rock at the boat launch. You can walk out along the overhang of "The End of the World" and see a smashed black office chair that has tumbled down to the ridge below. Walter Benjamin said that allegories are, in the realm of thought, what ruins are in the realm of things: broken pieces that point to an irretrievable, even false, whole. From this edge, our eyes move serenely over the green that fits into our eye. The bend of the river seems simple and pure, like the single bend of a flower. Monotropa, from the Greek meaning "One Turn." Our world-stage, this single lifetime.
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