New Weather

Today saw all greys and the vibrance of colour. It held the sort of rain that could not be anything but good and lovely and right. I walked to the Contemporary Art Museum under dripping leaves and across small puddles.

Finding New Weather within the walls, I ran the course of the wood-paneled floors, the white drywall. Three artists' work filled and yet were captured within doorless rooms. In the first, the charcoals of Robyn O'Neil were placed upon the verticals. An imposing form stood in center. Forever (Blank) Matter, it was entitled. It appeared as an intricate megalopolis perched upon and around and within a steep mountain of steel. The metal cage giving shape to matter was covered in the white buildings of nearlyevery architectural style.

That which we behold is but matter, substance—objects with mass occupying space. As artists and individuals, it is our calling and natural desire to give shape to organic matter, to resurrect forms the world should know.

The charcoal pieces were equally enthralling. Etchings and lines creating some idea of waves or wind or some other element were found throughout O'Neil's body of work. Even the sense of infinity and void could be had. They were otherworldly, haunting, and beautifully primitive. The drawings embodied atmospheres and other spheres and yet each spoke volumes of the ideas—harmony, pressure.

Through a more narrow hallway, smaller versions of the aforementioned greys lining the length, the space opened into still more. Another structure of Al-Hadid's stood, appearing to be suspended only by the empty space beneath it: The Edge of Destiny. Remaining blank space, the fantastical layers of montage collage hung.