kalliopeamorphous

I have had this in my head for weeks and finally made it yesterday. I used pieces of Murnau’s 1922 film Nosferatu and made this little tribute to one of my favorite songs off of Diamanda Galas’ La Serpenta Canta. When I can’t seem to get any real work done and I need to unwind, [...]

Some of my cemetery photographs and mixed media art pieces turned into a little insomniatic creative project/fan video whirligig.

Diamanda Galas fan-made tribute. “Anoixe,Anoixe” (Open up, Open up) as sung by Diamanda Galas live at the Kitchen, NYC 1999. Original words and music by Giannis (“Yannis”) Papaioannou. Translated from Greek:
The window shut, bolted, dark.
Why don’t you [...]

When I was going through my portfolios to organize my series, I found some of my favorite candid photos. Old memories, recent memories, and moments I hardly recall. Check it out in the permanent “Photo Album” link above.
..And if you are in the mood for exploring new music, please check out Little Annie. I discovered [...]

Tagged: archetypes, art, art blogs, art photography, artists, black and white, blogs, conceptual art, conceptual photography, conceptual series, contemporary photography, creativity, dark art, death, drowning, experimental, fine art photography, floating, kalliope amorphous, life, melancholy, musecatcher, music, ocean, Ophelia, ophelia photographs, original art, photo, photo series, photography, poetry, poets, rimbaud, self portrait photography, self-portrait, Shakespeare, [...]

This is why I love Youtube, where are so many obscure gems available for the digging. Here’s Ultimate Spinach and Ballad Of The Hip Death Goddess. They encapsulate the psychedelic music of the 1960’s and remind me of what Jefferson Airplane might sound like if they bred with the essence of Alice In Wonderland. Enjoy [...]

This is a poem that I wrote many years ago. It was one of the staples of my spoken word pieces when I used to read at poetry clubs when I lived in NYC. It reflects my life at the time-the way friends came and went in the blink of an eye. All of the [...]

Tagged: "spoken word", art, art blogs, artists, conceptual art, experimental, experimental music, kalliope amorphous, love, love poem, music, piano, poem, poetry, self-portrait, spirituality, words, youtube

It has been a few months since my blog (and many of my other virtual spaces) have disappeared. This was due to a cyberstalking issue that my family and I have been dealing with. Fortunately, the law now recognizes electronic harassment as a crime, and we are in the process of dealing with all of [...]

If I had to write a list of my heroes, the members of the Animal Liberation Front would be at the top of my list. These compassionate and brave individuals constantly risk their own lives and freedom for the sake of rescuing animals from vivisection labs, slaughterhouses, fur farms and other merciless institutions. They are considered a terrorist group, though they have never harmed a living being. They destroy the weapons of murder and the tools of terrorism. Despite legitimate protest, the exploitation of animals and the environment will continue as long as there is money to be made. While many consider the destruction of property an act of violence, I do not consider the destroying of the concrete and metal killing machines whose sole purpose is the destruction of innocent life to be a violent act.
The ALF carries out direct action against animal abuse by rescuing animals from fur farms, laboratories and other houses of torture. They also cause financial loss to animal exploiters, usually through the damage and destruction of property or the act of setting free their “product”—the animals. Their goal is to save as many animals as possible and to physically disrupt the process of animal exploitation and abuse. The long-term goal is to force animal abuse companies out of business.
The ALF has the following credo: If we are trespassing, so were the soldiers who broke down the gates of Hitler’s death camps. If we are thieves, so were the members of the Underground Railroad who freed the slaves of the South. And if we are vandals, so were those who destroyed forever the gas chambers of Buchenwald and Auschwitz.
I really miss being active in the animal rights movement. When I lived in New York, I was fortunate to be a part of a large network of people with similar views. I v

I think I am still in the process of descending from some sort of etheric realm after attending the Antony & The Johnsons performance in Boston Sunday evening. I had loved Antony and his music for the longest time, but after witnessing my first live performance, it peaked to a level of absolute adoration. I am officially one of those rabidly devout fans, and I thought all of that went away when my teenage years ended. Hah! I will be vehemently collecting every piece of vinyl that springs disc-shaped from Antony’s vocal chords and following several tour stops every time he comes around. He is officially my #1 soul crush.
After much banter with us in the audience, I learned that Antony is not only an amazing vocalist, but a genuinely magical human being with an incredible sense of humor and refreshing humility. He is fascinating to watch perform-like watching a giant, beautiful cherub channel every undiluted emotion in the human heart. It would not be hyperbole to call it a spiritual experience. He raises the room. I cannot recall ever attending a concert that left me feeling 500 feet above the ground for days on end. It is inspiring to see someone so in touch with the fragile, all-too-often untouchable beauty of our temporal existence. We NEED more music with feeling in a world where emotion and raw expression are traded in favor of fodder for dumbing down our culture.
Antony is not only inspiring composition wise, lyrically, and vocally. As a transgendered individual, he gives visibility to the all-too-invisible issues of gender identity and it’s many expressions. He is one of very few transgendered individuals who has had the fortune of making it so prominently into the spotlight of fame. Much of his music speaks to this, and speaking for myself,his music has made me feel less alone in my own skin and in the world.
“And it’s much more subtle and there’s a lot more potential there within each of those children and within each of those adults that remains u

Cold
What power art thou
Who from below
Hast made me rise
Unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow
See’st thou not how stiff
And wondrous old
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
Let me freeze again
Freeze again to death
Let me, let me, let me
Freeze again to death…
I haven’t been prone to blogging lately, as I have been lost in my own self-created world of art and music. These self-imposed exiles come more and more frequently lately as the misanthrope wins out over the one who wants to find a point of connection with her fellow human beings. From this comes the creation of art purely for my own emotional release. So, there are no gallery showings, no entries in juried exhibitions, no bold moves forward in career. A cycle will come again where I am propelled to have my work on gallery walls or be on stage behind a microphone, but for now I am enjoying the soft retreat away from all of the trappings that come when one takes their art and moves it under a light. So, although I am not blogging and posting anywhere very often, there are piles of new photographs and poems.
I did a series a few weeks ago inspired by one of my favorite songs, The Cold Song-in particular the last performance of Klaus Nomi. This sits at the top of my list of favorite performances. This was Klaus Nomi’s last performance, as he was suffering of Aids at the time. The decline of his health is evident in the shortness of breath and the sense of struggle as he works his way through the escalation of the song. Still, he pulls it off beautifully and with such honesty. This particular performance has so many layers in it that speak to the delicate beauty of our temporal nature. It is a stunning piece, and one that I would like to leave my friends with as we head off toward another weekend.

Tagged: art, beauty, cold, countertenor, death, gay, human beings, ice, klaus nomi, life, living, love, misan

“Unconventional: intimate, dreamlike and crackling. The haunting sounds of harps and acoustic guitars broken up by glitchy beats, the noise of Speak’n’Spell and one of those tin cans that moos like a cow when you up-end it. Bianca’s voice, reminiscent of Billie Holiday in its cracked blues vernacular, weaves in and out of Sierra’s softer, more operatic tones. But if you’re not scared by its oddity, it’s the sort of music you’ll fall in love with.” -BBC Collective

I am loving CocoRosie lately. I discovered them after hearing Antony sing with them on the song Beautiful Boys. Cocorosie is comprised of two sisters, one who is a classicaly trained opera singer. Their music is rather eccentric and filled with everything from meowing cats to soaring operatic magic–hiphop beats to ethereal vocal stylings. On some pieces they use the sounds of children’s toys, animals, and random vocals. It feels like Billie Holiday meets the footsteps of the Goddess Kali meets Jessye Norman meets Bjork. How could I not fall in love?
It’s rare for me to find new musical artists that I like. Other than Antony and a handful of other more obscure artists, I have a hard time finding new music. This is probably because my tastes in music are rather left-of-center, and I really have to dig like an archeologist to find the things that resonate with me. Thanks to Myspaces showcasing of independent, obscure, and unsigned artists I have been unearthing some gorgeous gems lately.
CocoRosie may not be for everyone, but I am in love with their sound. I am always overjoyed to find people keeping the art in music. It is unfortunate that some of the best music makers in the world will never make it into mainstream culture. The world might be a better place if we weren’t all subjected to such a homogonized, commercially oriented, specific brand of art, culture, and media.
Tagged: antony and the johnsons, art, artists, avant garde music, cocorosie, dada, experimental music, music,

“Hatred paralyses life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.” -Martin Luther King Jr.

Hate reared it’s often-seen head on a Brooklyn street this week and took the life of a man named Jose Sucuzhanay. He and his brother were walking arm and arm when an SUV pulled up shouting anti-gay and racist slurs at them.
In the merciless attack that soon followed, the two brothers were viciously beaten and bloodied with a beer bottle and baseball bat. Jose suffered severe head trauma and died on Friday evening.
The news of this incident ripped open the gaping wound in my heart that is consistently being ripped open by the hatred in this world. When will it stop? When we be free to be who we are without the threat of death looming over our shoulders? How can this disease of hate and ignorance be cured before it reaches plague level? I fear it is reaching plague level as I write this, and I am begining to understand why.
As long as we continue to sanction the denial of civil rights to ANY group of people, we unwittingly sanction hatred and violence toward ALL minorities because we collectively brand diversity of any kind as wrong. The blood of all victims of hate crimes is on the hands of religious zealots, because they are the harbingers of the fruit of hate, which as it rots, stinks of violence and death. All of those who turned up to vote in favor of proposition 8, yes, the blood is on your hands.  By denying civil rights to an entire community of human beings, you gave the OK to hate, to divide, to extinguish freedom, and to render an entire population of people as “less than worthy” or somehow tainted. Unworthy of living free. And the hatemongers? You fed them. You fed their vehement hate and you are responsible. You are just as responsible as the people waving their hate-filled signs in front of abortion clinics are responsible for every abortion clinic bombing and doctors murder. There is no such

Tori Amos - Bliss

"Toward the end of the show, the lights dimmed and t...

http://uk.youtube.com/watch...

I remember seeing Kl...

Antony live performing i fell in love with a dead boy

De arrepiar...

Diamanda Galas - Cris D'Aveugle.Recorded live in con...

Today something interesting happened. One minute I was doing laundry and freaking out over what’s happening in California today, and the next minute I was reading an e-mail from one of the producers at BBC Radio. She said that she saw my last blog post and invited me to speak as part of a panel of opinions on the Obama victory and what it may mean for the state of equality. Laundry one minute-speaking about Obama and gay rights on the BBC the next. This week has been a long, strange trip.
Here is my itty