Saturday, November 27, 2010
Sculpture and painting are my two lovers, well, I must correct that a bit as my husband Dennis is my first and best lover.. smile. Making love to art though is often like a sex fantasy as art is embraced and carried home to produce our inner being. I elude to sex and the art of projecting passion in most of my art as the goddess art woman arises in me. Today I begin "Bleeding Wings 7" of my sculpture series "Bleeding Wings". On my easel is a 48x60 oil on canvas, to the side of that are 3 other canvas' that have been plotted out ready to express "Bleeding Wings" on canvas.
Lets pause for a second... those who know me, know that I love the experience of art by creating as much of an ambiance with it as is possible online... so turn on some music. Then finish reading my thoughts on my erotic pleasure of doing art.
The back and forth effort between clay and oil paints feels confusing to me at times, I will admit to that, but it honestly feels as if I have no choice but to embrace both at this point. I am bound by the chains that I know will release optimal freedom allowing wings wide and free, that at times refuse to unfold. It is bliss to know that I can fly if I choose, it is something we all choose to release inside of us or not. Will I become what I know I can? Will you? Flight at times seems impossible and yet there is no other choice than to pursue a journey to the top of any mountain I see, with the goal of jumping off. Leaping into an abyss and catching the wind of my lust to know myself and the gift right there in front of me. Flight meets any goddess once that decision is made to pursue it. With that I take a small clump of clay from a plastic bag, feel it in my hands and apply it to the growth of being and the sculpture in front of me. With that I squeeze out glorious colors onto my palette, brush in hand touches the pigments, as by brush erotically mixes one color with another in order to pursue my canvas and deliver its own voice. I am a fantasy art warrior woman, sigh.
Pictured is "Bleeding Wings 2" 18" ~waiting to be fired, work in progress. Goddess art of a warrior woman.. YES!
LYRICS~~~> Glitter In The Air lyrics
Songwriters: Mann, Billy; Moore, Alecia;
Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it
Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
And said I just don't care?
It's only half past the point of no return
The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn
The thunder before lightning, the breath before the phrase
Have you ever felt this way?
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?
It's only half past the point of oblivion
The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run
The breath before the kiss and the fear before the flames
Have you ever felt this way?
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
There you are, sitting in the garden
Clutching my coffee, calling me sugar
You called me sugar
Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself
Will it ever get better than tonight? Tonight
Ahh goddess art of beautiful women, THANK YOU Pink for the glorious performance!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
"Bleeding Wings 6" 18" clay sculpture by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
"Inside the Belly of a Crime I Never Committed"
I feel hidden inside the belly of a crime I never committed.
I feel coaxed toward the pleasure of a sin not yet known
guilt in mind
I set focus on the betrayal of my own self worth.
As I wind my heart around it all
like a ball of yarn
lines that have been added to
with the intention of meeting other things
the warmth of a sweater
a blanket to cover me at night
or a mind that screams
when I feel vulnerable.
I am not so disillusioned by the dwelling of introspection
that I am not safe though.
My palm shows generous stories
just like any one else's.
I tend the garden of complacency
grieving for lost artwork.
I hold tea parties at midnight
when no one is watching
and I call on every demon angel I have ever met there.
They tend to sing too loud though
I quiet them by sharing my poems
and brushing my hair with remote intentions.
and we will all find shelter in a far off cove
that was always meant for lovers.
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
27 October 2010
INVENTORY AT MONKDOGZ, NEW YORK:
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The image is of my (Kathy Ostman-Magnusen) painting of Dennis.
"Mr. Magnusen", 30x40x2 oil on canvas, by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Mr. Magnusen, the subject of my painting, shares many of my same memories. We grew up not far from one another In S. California and later attended the same high school. It was in high school that I fell in love with Dennis G Magnusen. That love story was put on hold for some 30 years.
In 1967 Dennis was drafted by the US Army, and subsequently went to Vietnam in 1968. Circumstances and follies of youth would cause us to follow separate paths.
While in Vietnam Dennis was strongly affected by the children he saw there. "Children were never meant to experience war", he told me years later. He decided that he wanted to do his part to change the world. "Real change in any society begins with the children," was Dennis' mantra, so he became a teacher. He worked with gang zone high school kids in the evenings and intermediate students in the afternoon. Grades of F's and D's were bought up to A's and B's. Mr. Magnusen reached beyond his own expectations, leading kids to an understanding of their own worth, thus opening doors to their potential futures. He created a surf club and got the community to help. He was often featured on local TV and newspapers as someone who was making a difference in children's lives. Dennis also became a Mentor teacher, lending help to other educators. Being somewhat of a rebel he advised fellow teaches of ideas that reached beyond standard textbook techniques.
Sadly the ghost of Vietnam took away Mr. Magnusen's strength in the form of Peripheral Neuropathy, caused by Agent Orange. By 1990 he was too ill to continue his beloved teaching career. It broke his heart. Seeking rest, relief from stress, needing a special place to deal with the physical pain that comes with Small Nerve Fiber Neuropathy, he relocated to Hawaii. Hawaii has been his solace and a cool breeze when memories of who he once was for kids becomes faint.
About three months ago "Mr. Magnusen" was contacted by a former student. Amy had been looking for him for eighteen years. She had heard he had died from Agent Orange complications, but still hoped that she would find him. You see, Amy became a teacher and she wanted to find Mr. Magnusen to tell him how much he had affected her life. While working on her Masters in Literature, Amy wrote a paper describing the most influential person in her life. That person was Mr. Magnusen. Amy called to tell Mr. Magnusen that she wanted to make a difference in this world too. For a teacher there can be no greater reward.
As for me? I found Dennis once again after 30 years, through a miracle of circumstance, but that I guess is another story.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
"Mr. Magnusen" 36x48x2 oil on canvas
"Dennis Needs Help, The VA is NEGLIGENT"
This has nothing to do with art per say except that my husband Dennis is an artist, he plays guitar and writes beautiful songs. He has written many for me as we were high school sweethearts who reconnected after 30 years. He love me.
I have posted the painting I did of him that was in the Schaefer Portrait Challenge in Hawaii, called, "Mr. Magnusen"
If you know of anyone who might help him or want to pray for him I would appreciate your assistance.
Here is his story:
To whom it may concern,
My name is Dennis G. Magnusen, I used to be a mentor teacher in Hawaiian Gardens, CA. This was a hard place for a kid to grow up, gangs were well established in this area. I taught junior high during the day, home students in the afternoon, and high school "gangsters" in the evening out of a community
store front school. I loved my job; I took it very seriously. I became an educator because of my experiences
in Vietnam; I did not like what war did to people nor to children, therefore, I taught peaceful resolution to conflicts whenever it seemed necessary. I had to quit teaching in 1990 due to the effects of Agent Orange; I moved to Hawaii.
HERE IS THE PROBLEM: My VA doctor of 18 years (Dr. George W. Ross, Chief of Neurology for the state of Hawaii) finally admitted that he knows nothing about my medical condition. He always told me that "I should not be in so much pain" and that "it is not going to kill me". As it turns out, he could not be more wrong.
In early 2008 I was diagnosed with severe small fiber neuropathy from a biopsy that was sent to Therapath Lab,NY. This is a very painful disease that controls the autonomic nervous system; this has never been addressed by the VA. The only thing the VA has done is to load me up on drugs. Most doctors are amazed that I can even get out of bed with so many medications. I need treatment (i.e. IVIG), not more meds.
In 2008 Dr. Ross recommended that I see Dr. Mandaville (at Univ. Calif. at San Diego and also with the VA in LaJolla). On January 15, 2008, I was to meet with the VA's neurologist who was going to turn me over to Dr. Mandeville. Instead, the VA's neurologist (Dr. Vivan) said that they were going to "re-test" me. It has been a year since that meeting and nothing has changed, they schedule me 4-6 months after each test to see a neurologist, and then order another test.
I need help. In December of 2009, I had to go to the ER twice. The first time I went to a local hospital, I was convulsing and could not breathe ( I was throwing-up continuously and therefore could not keep my meds down), the pain was severe. The next day it happened again. This time I went to the VA in LaJolla, a 25 mile drive. I had to wait in ER for 5 hours before being seen. Once again in severe pain. I was admitted for 3 days before being stabilized. I can't help but to think this wouldn't happen if I was not on so many meds.
In the VA's Patient Right's, it states: "You will be treated with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual. You will receive care in a safe environment." I've never felt like I was a recipient of this kind of care, it's more like DENY, DELAY and DEATH.
So far I've been diagnosed with peripheral neuropathy, avascular necrosis ( left hip has had a full replacement, the right hip is still deteriorating), cardiomyopathy, COPD, chronic pain, chest pain, PTSD, persistent insomnia, acute sinusitis, acute tonsillitis, malaise and fatigue, cough, pyronies disease, gastrointestinal motility, and small fiber neuropathy, as well as a few others.
I need help. All I want is a doctor who can help me. There are still things in this world that I want to accomplish. I want the VA to treat me with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual, and give me that care in a safe environment.
Dennis G Magnusen