1. Rabbit Island Residency

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    After three years of exploring, mapping, building, designing, researching, art-making, testing, re-testing, and months of island living the Rabbit Island Residency programme is now online. The supported residency will be awarded to a small selection of creators each summer and will cover travel expenses and provide a materials stipend to live and work on the island. Our partnership with the DeVos Art Museum will also give residents the opportunity to exhibit their work, engage with local communities, and have a publication or catalogue produced relating to their work on the island.

    Check out www.rabbitisland.org/art to read all about it and see our call for applications. The Summer 2014 residency deadline is August 23rd, 2013.

  2. State of the Re:Union

    A public radio project created by writer/performer Al Letson, State of the Re:Union explores the biggest issues facing the country — one story at a time. With a focus on the everyday people that shape communities across the US, the show finds renewal in the midst of decay by sharing small stories with a big impact.

    Take a listen to the award-winning Baltimore episode and visit Letson’s new Kickstarter project page.

    View on Kickstarter
  3. Found Slides: A Life Remembered. When Michael Lyman picked up a vintage slide projector from a thrift store in Florida, he had no idea what he was in for: 80 color Kodachrome slides, relics of the previous owner, stashed in the machine’s base. The well-preserved images depicted the daily life of a family in the 1950s, cohering to form a portrait that was simple, relatable — and utterly captivating. Although Lyman had no idea who these people were, he felt connected to them.

    On a lark, he brought his search to discover the family’s identity to the internet, scanning the slides and posting them to his blog. The images resonated, and a global Star Wars costuming group that Lyman belonged to began to respond en masse. They pored over each picture, piecing together any details they could find, and gradually cobbling together a name, a history… a life.

    Now, Lyman is transforming his experience into a graphic novel. He won’t reveal the details, except to say that his journey brought about some “highly unexpected life changes,” but we hardly need to hear more. Our curiosity has been sufficiently sparked! Explore his work, and see some of the images he’s transforming into comics, on his project page. Should we take turns guessing the ending?!

  4. timelightbox:

© Maggie Steber
It seems fitting that I’m sitting here on Mother’s Day writing about photographs I took of my mother, Madje, during her melancholic voyage into dementia.  My mother died three years ago in August. You never really get over it.
For the past year, I’ve been working with Mediastorm on a piece Madje’s dementia and what happened on the other side of it. The photos are of her but at some point I realized the story is really mine. It’s painful some days to look at these photographs over and over again working on this project but it also makes me feel like she is still here, and there is something exquisite, even in missing her.
I didn’t start out to do anything with the photos I shot over the last years of my mother’s life.  I did it for me, to have something, a new memory to show the last bright moments of her life along as she disappeared into memory loss.
I shot video and collected audio so I could hear her voice but she stopped talking. As time went on, she couldn’t form words or sentences. She would keep her eyes closed most of the time.  As her only child, I had to do something to get through it.  Cold as it sounds, in some ways, dementia gave me the mother I always wanted, someone easier, reasonable, less worried. I was able to look at Madje as her own person, not just my mother, with new things revealed constantly. At some point I realized that this was a story to be shared, not just to help people know what to expect and encourage family members to become warriors for their family elders, but to tell a kind of love story. These are some of my favorite photographs.  Some are lovely, I think, because my mother looks lovely in them. Others spark tough memories.
— Maggie Steber
You can support Maggie’s project on Kickstarter here.
This.

    timelightbox:

    © Maggie Steber

    It seems fitting that I’m sitting here on Mother’s Day writing about photographs I took of my mother, Madje, during her melancholic voyage into dementia.  My mother died three years ago in August. You never really get over it.

    For the past year, I’ve been working with Mediastorm on a piece Madje’s dementia and what happened on the other side of it. The photos are of her but at some point I realized the story is really mine. It’s painful some days to look at these photographs over and over again working on this project but it also makes me feel like she is still here, and there is something exquisite, even in missing her.

    I didn’t start out to do anything with the photos I shot over the last years of my mother’s life.  I did it for me, to have something, a new memory to show the last bright moments of her life along as she disappeared into memory loss.

    I shot video and collected audio so I could hear her voice but she stopped talking. As time went on, she couldn’t form words or sentences. She would keep her eyes closed most of the time.  As her only child, I had to do something to get through it.  Cold as it sounds, in some ways, dementia gave me the mother I always wanted, someone easier, reasonable, less worried. I was able to look at Madje as her own person, not just my mother, with new things revealed constantly. At some point I realized that this was a story to be shared, not just to help people know what to expect and encourage family members to become warriors for their family elders, but to tell a kind of love story. These are some of my favorite photographs.  Some are lovely, I think, because my mother looks lovely in them. Others spark tough memories.

    Maggie Steber

    You can support Maggie’s project on Kickstarter here.


    This.
    View on Kickstarter
  5. For the last 16 years, Steve Hughes has been listening to people. People at jobs, people in subways, people on the street, but mostly people in bars. Specifically, drunk people in bars. And he’s been recording their drunken stories of sadness, broken hearts, disappointments, and general bad luck. If you’re anything like us, you’re immediately rushing to this project page to double-check that the-guy-you-met-last-night-and-had-a-moment-of-commiseration-with was NOT Steve Hughes. Then you’re pledging for a copy of the ‘zine, regardless, because it sounds amazing and is just six bucks. Oh, and did we mention that artist Matthew Barney will be illustrating the next issue?

    For the last 16 years, Steve Hughes has been listening to people. People at jobs, people in subways, people on the street, but mostly people in bars. Specifically, drunk people in bars. And he’s been recording their drunken stories of sadness, broken hearts, disappointments, and general bad luck. If you’re anything like us, you’re immediately rushing to this project page to double-check that the-guy-you-met-last-night-and-had-a-moment-of-commiseration-with was NOT Steve Hughes. Then you’re pledging for a copy of the ‘zine, regardless, because it sounds amazing and is just six bucks. Oh, and did we mention that artist Matthew Barney will be illustrating the next issue?