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28 March 2017````

:: I suggest to you a thought from Henry Miller : “It is almost banal to say so yet it needs to be stressed continually: all is creation, all is change, all is flux, all is metamorphosis”

The thought of the ever-eroding and ever-beginning state of ambiguity and impermanence we as a Humanity find ourselves wading through daily, hourly, annually.  A thought we, I, struggle always with and yet when we surrender to and embrace the concept of life [ however we know and define it ] being Not an end-goal but of course as they say, the journey, this is the crux of so many internal and thus external solutions. 

It is often thought that somehow we are at some sort of apex of what we might call our 'civilization.'  That for the reasons of the Age of Enlightenment enriching our minds, the Industrial Revolution advancing our science, medicine, tools and technology, and many many past civilizations advancing and growing our  literature, our arts, our problem solving, that we are the furthest we have ever come along in the timeline of humanity.

And isn’t anything ‘new’ just a shift in perspective anyway -? Isn’t that the purpose of the greatest gift we have to offer each other as a humanity, dependence on one another and the need to offer our own views to one another -? The word ‘new’ in a way just means new to some, and not to others; it is relative. In the larger scheme of our history’s timeline we don't change —

Humans never really change, only our creations and our technologies change; and that is actually a most beautiful thing. Because of this we can continually strive to learn from ourselves and each other and understand this Thing that is Life.

Quote thanks to a recent edition of the awesomeBrain Pickings by Maria Popova

Any comments or thoughts on my little rants are welcome :]   cronin.tara@gmail.com


_ 03 July 2016````

:: I have always had a difficult time with the ‘glass half empty or full’ question. Of course it is a matter of mood and opinion but growing up I did not realize that [ i was slow to learn these things :] ]. The glass is simultaneously both, and it Needs to be both, it is not capable of ‘either/or,’ because each relies on the other to exist, in symbiosis. In this way I feel our consciousness/unconscious-ness is similar.

We have the confusing and surreptitious nature of Memory, and the mind’s eye filling the gaps for our unconscious to make sense of, to create characters and vivid faces we think we have never met in the long and winding storylines of our dreamscapes; We have the physiological aspect of how this is all happening, electric signals and synapses firing in seemingly chaotic patterns; we have the spirit, the mind, and that essential part of ourselves that we cannot quite put our finger on nor define very well and always seem to just miss being able to be wholly aware of it for more than moment, but which we also deep down know, makes us everything we are.

Within these three main components becomes the being that is one of the billions of voices and faces that make up our Pale Blue Dot. This I love and this perhaps, to me, is the ‘New Unconscious’ — it is not new at all, not in the sense that it was never there; but rather a new perspective: a way to be present and be aware of all the tiny cogs making us tic and ebb and flow, as well as the larger sum of those tiny pieces, all at once, somehow.

And isn’t anything ‘new’ just a shift in perspective anyway -? Isn’t that the purpose of the greatest gift we have to offer each other as a humanity, dependence on one another and the need to offer our own views to one another -? The word ‘new’ in a way just means new to some, and not to others; it is relative. In the larger scheme of our history’s timeline we don't change —

Humans never really change, only our creations and our technologies change; and that is actually a most beautiful thing. Because of this we can continually strive to learn from ourselves and each other and understand this Thing that is Life.

tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma blood hemoglobin language ancient


_ 15 March 2016````

^ Happy Birthday to the late and passionate writer, VP of the International PEN Club, mother, sister, lover-of-life, and instigator, Chun Sook Hee, who would in her lifetime and beyond, inspire many hearts and minds, writers and artists and organizations alike, to emulate her persistent and unending spirit ::: ^

tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma blood hemoglobin language ancient


08 December 2015````

:: There are reminders peppered throughout each of our Timelines: no one grows up; we just grow old, and we just grow. No one knows what to do as Life winds its labyrinthine waters through which we wade. Children seem to have unexplained wisdom because they do. As we age, we accumulate new wisdoms. We never lose the innate wisdoms though, that as children came like second nature, like small and lucid guides lighting our path. Those are with us always; we just have to remember how to listen ~

tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma blood hemoglobin language ancient


_ 25 November 2015````

:: Home is not where you are, it is who you're with ::

tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma blood hemoglobin language ancient


_ 08 August 2015````

:: A collector of anatomical and entomological specimens, I find something transformational in these remnants. I am also a strong believer in the threads of myth that keep our societal psyches in one piece. I myself bring the transformation to each object - together the the Life of each object and the Stories I bring to them form a synthesis -- in this case for instance, the legend of the great and elusive white stag.

We do not have to even know the full story; the weight alone of that story throughout time is enough to convince me that it is through the language of myth, whether in modern settings or ancient and lost symbolisms, that we get by. It is the power of Storie that we as a humanity find strength when we need it most.

Not only are these 'stories' powerful, they are a necessary part of our survival, as it was mine. I do not actuallY refer to a singular symbol or tale; I speak rather of the strengths and skills that these stories instill in us when we experience them. In this ongoing series, I trace the imagined remnants of long-gone symbols, one by one, that once may have led another out of a lost hole of life. It is not the storie or character itself that matters; but the imprint that it leaves on our being. ::

tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma blood hemoglobin language ancient


19 May 2015````

:: An Archetypal language; something to carry us through Time, through a nonlinear path, a path of earnesty - a language that is Not a barrier ::


tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma hemoglobin language ancient


22 april 2015````

Apparently TRUE reasons for admittance to a psychiatric asylum; late 1800s:



tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma chlorophyllin hemoglobin bell jar


_ 18 april 2015````

It’s really a sort of temporary tragedy. About people in the cities being so estranged from nature. But I find it hard to believe that that is becausE of they environment in which we live.. They chose that environment. We, did. Perhaps it is not the cities that shape the people, but the people who are alreadY not interested in nature, who are drawn to the cities. ?? All my ~14 years living in a city, including not just the thcket of the ‘central-city’ but parts where at least there is more Sun and broader greens and parks, I have felt the same cling and closeness to nature as I have my entire life.

The same need to look up and Close my Eyes, in order to breathe in that thing that fills our nostrils and floods our flesh with sun and chlorophyll, a warm torrential rain, icy-beautiful muted air. I once had been shooting in Central Park a lot, as I feel that particular magic and beauty even in a fully manmade park, or a small patch of moss and grass on the side of the path; even in a houseplant.

I think society as a whole has grown incredibly distant from themselves [ Ourselves ], and thus from nature, as a product and result of modernity and the industrial revolution. We tend to think think that was so long ago, but it is those transformations that carry the leading attitudes shaping most peoples’ attitudes toward [ or lacking from ] nature.

I think, unfortunately, its not a Where thing, but a When thing. In today’s highly technological era, an era of awkward and semi-connected social ’tools', as wonderful and awe-some and revolutionary these directions are, there is little room for the appreciation for this thing we call Nature, and, that is a shame. It could be argued that that departure from our connection w nature is actually a root cause of many, more than we think, of our modern day emotional, spiritual, psychological, and physical ailments.




tara cronin artist human condition nature life plasma chlorophyllin mind body modernity bell curve


_ 26 march 2015````

^~ LiquidLife ~^

From the exquisite corpse to miraculous cellular-level regenerative healing to a simple love and appreciation of our one Life, our world, our Humanity; various bloods in various contexts never fail to stir the mind and heart [and nerves!].

Article thanks courtesy to Liz Sales :]


tara cronin artist human condition blood life plasma derma mind body experience


_ 23 march 2015````

^ HistoryHerstory ^

Alice Paul went on a hunger strike where she wqas force-fed raw eggs ( down her nose) until vomited blood. She was then put into a sanitorium with the hopes of being declared insane.

The doctor stated, 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.' Suffrage was passed 3 years later.


tara cronin artist the human condition womens rights suffrage history herstory


_ 20 march 2015````

^ The Spring Equinox,

> Sleeping Phoenix:


tara cronin stories bones skeletal anatomy winter nature the wind and the snow spirits


_ 18 february 2015````

~ ' Time dissipates to shining ether the solid angularity of facts ' ~

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~ click me ^^


tara cronin stories bones skeletal anatomy lights of life the white stag


15 february 2015````

It is a huge leap - to go from the act of separating oneself from others / the rest of mankind, to then accusing that act to be the root of violence. To go about life thinking ‘we are all one and the same’ - to think that OnlY - breeds limitations, and further perpetuates the problem of this tendency to separate. It’s not only natural to separate ourselves from others - it’s necessary, for a sense of identity, of belonging and community, of autonomy, and thus of agency as a citizen in the world. If we truly were all the Same, it would not be the beautiful world we have, with it’s endless Range of difference and nuance, including the horrors. If we were not different it would be not Humanity, and it might be pretty boring. We may as well be the Borg [ Trekkie reference alert! ].

It’s not the act alone, of separating oneself that is the problem. Its the attempt to attain this impossible state of Sameness/Oneness that ironically is the problem. It creates a mirage of what we shoulD be, rather than encouraging an acceptance of what we Are. Thereby creating a paradox that only confuses us all. To separate oneself is fine, it’s important. To however connecT that separation and interchange it with the act of Excluding others, through judgment, bias, moralizing, etc; that is the real problem. Rather than pretend we all have zero differences, it’s more constructive to accept and embrace — not just Tolerate — the differences we will always innately have .~

tara cronin stories bones skeletal anatomy dark mythological history the creatures are not ours

31 january 2015````

~ 'The spinal column and rib cage, which protect the warrior's eyes, are those of a young wolf. The ram's horns give the warrior means to ward off the demons who might attack him on his journey after death.' ~

The spinal column and rib cage, which protect the warrior's eyes, are those of a young wolf. The ram's horns give the warrior means to ward off the demons who might attack him on his journey after death. ~



tara cronin interests bones skeletal anatomy viking mythological history the creatures are not ours

06 january 2015````

~>     To a 'judicious mix' of Wonder & Skepticism,
and to always leaving room for Heart    <~


tara cronin banyan tree artist nature and nurture the land is not ours

03 november 2014````

- THANK You Moscow International Foto Awards:!!  :]


MIFA Moscow Foto Photo Awards 2014


20 october 2014````

- An ancient lunar calendar made by the Aurignacian people (47,000-41,000 years ago). The Aurignacian culture is an archaeological culture of the Upper Palaeolithic, located in Europe and southwest Asia, lasted within the period from ca. 45,000 to 35,000 years ago. The name originates from the type site of Aurignac in the Haute-Garonne area of France. -

tara cronin artist as humans we share much


16 october 2014````

^ wouldn't have it any, any other way ^

            ( * Language as a barrier and also a catalyst )

Livsnjutare a lovely word, Tara Cronin Artist, Lingua, Liguistics, Language as a barrier and a catalyst


08 october 2014````


Cosmos Reading


08 july 2014````

The world has indeed its beautiful pockets, many of them not a physical thing or place at all~^^


17 february 2014````

Death is a construct created by the Living. We are existing always, cyclical.  It's a grateful peace.

death is a construct tara cronin artist life experience


02 february 2014````

It's often the one-on-one conversations that ignite any inner-strength amongst us. The same goes for an event organized and executed so that the discourse and exchange feels intimate to participants, taking larger, daunting issues to the personal and accessible level. Anyone can use their respective skillset to address these issues, and also during opportunities speaking to many at once. A simple twist of perspective lets us see how easy one human can begin a domino-effect of Change; when the abstract becomes personal we gain courage we never expected to have.



14 december 2013````

The smell of pulp and ink.

The grounded feel, of a loved, worn book; sleeping at the bottom of our favorite torn leather bag always close to our hands, our hearts, always accessible.

In broken cups and ceramic teapots, small boxes and wooden fans we save the pieces in order to remember the stories.

In this world of ones, zeros, binary friends and flickering histories, it’s a nice thing to hold, to feel a weight, to touch paper and to be right Here, not There where we should or should not be.

if anyone the hero the me tara cronin artist artwork 2013


25 november 2013````

" It's good to know we the people, Humans are good in general unless threatened by ..........????? "

" Yes - !  We are perhaps even InnatelY offering and kind, until seriously threatened our own well-being, for one thing, perhaps!?   But even that, the idea of –Serious- and of –well-being- is in the eye of perspective...??! "

Meta Artwork Topographic Tara Cornin Art Photography Mixed Media Book Blog Writings



25 october 2013````

' Dont think about all those things we feel; Just be glad to FeeL '

Dependency is one of the greatest Gifts humans have to offer each other.

It is thought of as a 'weak' or 'small' phenomenon; this Thing, this thing of Needing one another, what is That. ?? > How lame it is that we would need to Rely on one another <

In reality, when utilized with health and with balance, its the greatest thing and a most necessary thing we all need for basic function and to grow as individuals and thus as a Human-Earth-Whole.


24 october 2013````

Thank you Kat Zambon, Olga Francois, and All at the American Association for the Advancement of Science!!

AAAS ARTICLE in WASHINGTON,DC for recent Speaker Event/Exhibition

Tara Cronin Ed Chen AAAS Science and Art Policy DC

Tara Cronin Artist Science and Art Ed Chen DC

Tara Cronin Artist Science and Art Ed Chen DC

Tara Cronin Artist Science and Art Ed Chen DC

Tara Cronin Artist Science and Art Ed Chen DC

Tara Cronin Artist Science and Art Ed Chen DC


23 august 2013````

-------16-word story:

_ "Are we asleep?"
"No, our World sleeps; we are in its dreams."
They are old, happy.

21 august 2013````

/ only a human can complicate the often beautiful Humanity right in front of us, to a point of the unnecessary, of the inconsiderate, of the negative habit and of regretful pain.

This happens through the power - the OverPower, of that venomous combination of overzealous trust in Logic and Analyzation, mixed often unbeknownst to us and always unavoidably with innate underlying  emotional instability,

/ people only look back again and again in sadness when they cannot embrace the past.

What's done is always, done. Things can sting but they don't have to hinder.
Now is the time to make the most of what we have been shaped into. Make it our Strength. Not a weakness that stifles and stunts.

Humans tend to sigh, to sing. I sing from happiness. But I also sing when angry - Singing can be an escape, a pleasant glamour of a distraction. It is the opposite of embrace, acceptance of truth.

Now, not Then; not Later;  now is always, the Only time.

tara cronin artwork

13 august 2013````

I like to say to myself, 'Dont forget the Heart!'

In a post-enlightenment age it's too easy to trust Facts, Patterns, Controlled Methods. To Rule Out the fluffiness, that nebulous thing that is our Intuition, the voice that has no sound and only - excuse me - Feeling.

It's Heart we tend to lack to use, or trust, in 2013, and Heart we need in any Age, any era, and most all life situations that we try so hard to untangle. This, in times of trusting often Only the Logic, I find myself re-learning all the time :~

An Article: !

tara cronin heart scientism daytime copper sphere artwork



10 august 2013````

It seems that graduation guest speeches are flickering within related wavelengths [ reflecting on David Foster Wallace's similarly themed and equally wonderful speech, given to me gratefully by a friend, in the form of a book titled 'This Is Water' ] :



10 august 2013````

See for yourself :]     :




09 august 2013````


-- The rich warm rain
-- The dous-er of all things negative inner, prior, outer, current
-- The enlvelop-er of heart, as mimicking She the Sea
-- The reset
-- The bring-er of Life

-- The tell-er of Storie

*__ The Rain is a Home, of mine

tara cronin laboratoY



04 august 2013````


00 --
'Leave the door open for the unknown, the door into the dark. That’s where the most important things come from..'

01 --
'I am very pleased that you find joy with the piano. This and carpentry are in my opinion for your age the best pursuits, better even than school. Mainly play the things on the piano which please you, even if the teacher does not assign those. That is the way to learn the most, that when you are doing something with such enjoyment that you don’t notice that the time passes.'

02 --
The best parts of the days are when I find I am grateful :~

03 --
I am Water; I know this. The important part is RemeberinG this ~

04 --
:::: In the end Home is not wherE you are, its Who your with :::~

desert - distant tara cronin writings art


01 august 2013```       

You only are free when you realize you belong no place – you belong every place – no place at all.

Tara Cronin Artwork


01 august 2013````





18 july 2013````

P r a e c o    ``


Ink scribbled neatly onto a page, another page, hundreds of pages, the pages stand tall and line up horizontally across a main fence at Tahrir Square.   I walk peacefully through this landmark, feeling the tension in some of the voices of the people to whom this country belongs.  I converse a little only to find frustration.  I feel pain and fear, and I cant put my finger on it.  It is a hot summery spring day in the last week of May 2013.


I slow down.   


I recall the Town Crier.   More accurately, I recall my memory of a description written on a page taken from oral tradition that passed from a first-hand experience of this one and many person who is and was The Town Crier.
How different really, was this role as the Vocal bulletin-board of the day, compared to digital info-bulletins of social media - those not-so-physical places where we communicate, somehow as real as ever, sitting on a resolution of [ on average ] 1024x1280 [ pixels per inch ] – ?

praeco tara cronin writings art


01 july 2013````


What I fear, what truly Scares me, Shakes me and stirs up a constant and yet quiet undulating state of being stuck between fight and flight - is the daily scene around me. I walk, within the crowds of the city, all of us One, all of us falling within a range of the serene, complying, agreeable, synchronized.

I look up, in the window of a modern health club, are humans running nowhere and somehow in some strange way releasing energy, making progress. They will all repeat this thing, at the same time, on the same day that was in fact the last – they all may as well be the same day. The humans run on perfectly positioned machines, lined up precisely and neatly to face outward, to advertise the immensely positive glow of the club, the strengths of this human race, our technological triumphs.

I look behind and in front, the crowd surrounds me but is not at all, necessarily, menacing. We are all in agreement. To cross the street, to apply unconsciously the powers of crowd dynamics, of the numerous theories of the possibility of underlying complexity, of the incredibly subtle self-organization of pedestrian crowds.Peacefully, at the same time, they all go and Move, they all shuffle, jog, weave and stay just enough alert, all walk and go within the same range of pace, no one dares look at a face, an eye. We are all human. I am one of them.

The most frightful part is that I participate naturally within all this chaos.

Because in the end, it’s quite harmonious, isn’t it. ?


tara cronin photography


05 may 2013````

            > not at all as easy as the article makes it seem, but too True~

"Specialization may be all well very well if you happen to have skills particularly suited to these jobs, or if you are passionate a niche area of work, and of course there is also the benefit of feeling pride in being considered an expert. But there is equally the danger of becoming dissatisfied by the repetition inherent in many specialist professions. … Moreover, our culture of specialization conflicts with something most of us intuitively recognize, but which career advisers are only beginning to understand: we each have multiple selves. … We have complex, multi-faceted experiences, interests, values and talents, which might mean that we could also find fulfillment as a web designer, or a community police officer, or running an organic cafe.

This is a potentially liberating idea with radical implications. It raises the possibility that we might discover career fulfillment by escaping the confines of specialization and cultivating ourselves as wide achievers … allowing the various petals of our identity to fully unfold."       


"Without work, all life goes rotten, but when work is soulless, life stifles and dies," wrote Albert Camus. Finding work with a soul has become one of the great aspirations of our age. … We have to realize that a vocation is not something we find, it's something we grow – and grow into.

It is common to think of a vocation as a career that you somehow feel you were "meant to do." I prefer a different definition, one closer to the historical origins of the concept: a vocation is a career that not only gives you fulfillment – meaning, flow, freedom – but that also has a definitive goal or a clear purpose to strive for attached to it, which drives your life and motivates you to get up in the morning."


              ------------ from writings by Roman Krznaric:



03 may 2013````

Not Why. Why not!

tara cronin artwork


15 april 2013````

1- My mother brushed her hair across the hall. She looked beautiful.

2- i would help [my grandmother] clean and scale whole fish out in the backyard, this was my favorite part, looking carefully at the anatomy. i loved to teach her english; the first word she mastered was 'apple.'  this was what i remembered when, 20 years later, i was told she had died 3 months earlier.

3- 'nurse?' i murmured, keeping my eyes on them, in the walls.  'there are flying things.'  i sound crazy.  they are going to give me an antipsychotic or a tranquilizer. but the rushing of Their shadow-wings is beginning to make a stinging in my ears.

4- H o m e  is the place that coexists with itself, here under our grateful roof, and yet somewhere else.  It is so near always; all i have to do is close two eyes.

all the mountains tara cronin blog


04 april 2013````

> "the private, unrecognized, rudimentary, yet secrectly potent pantheon of dream" <

Tara Cronin artwork



19 march 2013````

in the end Home is not wherE you are, its Who your with :::~

home tara cronin art writings

16 march 2013````

i hate having hopes.

14 march 2013````

Disclosure of the day:

When i see or smell or swim the Sea, i cry. I cannot explain it, I cannot help it. All i know is i am Home, like a first-first home I knew a long time ago or another life ago.

It is the the most wonderful sadness I could ask to feel.

tara sea ocean art



6 march 2013````

In today’s [professional] world, and this applies not only to the arts but i think, i wonder - to most any field - we are / have perhaps become extremely specialized.
Even in the sciences, the field that drove any historically golden period of many different nations and societies, now here in the U.S. one can barely hope to invent anything new bc there is an immense amount of red tape in the form of almost unspoken prerequisites to legitimize one in the field, this taking time and energy away from the actual New Findings that could arise instead. Of course, new findings come in bursts anyway, but have you noticed the last time we really had a 'burst' of forward-thinking societal improvements was the internet in the 90s, and then before that perhaps the rail/plane/einsteins findings way before. We are having way less and less of these 'bursts' of invention in our last 100+ years.

i took note when a few friends in various science PhD’s were getting acquainted w their programs, that they were disappointed to see every single one of their fellow candidates Not having the opportunity to do their own research to progress the world, but instead being bogged down w trying to get especially skilled at grant-writing to get funds that took monthS, or to be an assistant only - and not even in an apprentice form where its learning-based and progressive - to their advisors in order to try to get their advisors' works published, which was also a monthS long process.  everyone found themselves extremely stressed and depressed and this i feel mimics much of the many often forward-pushing fields today, that in the past had more opportunities to really take humans to another level.

In the arts it could at times be the same - people are even criticized sometimes for Not sticking to and Mastering only One single medium.  and i am talking even in the conceptually-forward-thinking parts of the art world -- please correct me and tell me if i dont really know what im talking about here..!

Another major thing that influenced my appreciation and Embracing [rather than dismissal] of this 'dilettantism' I speak of, was an article in Forbes. the CEO of a major business company; she said, “nowadays I look especially for any arts background in the resumes of applicants.  Because it is in those classes that you learn how to solve problems, and find a way to think out of the box, so cliche but true - to find solutions to the major things that come up daily in a business environment, or anywhere for that matter.”  Because she had been seeing a sad and frustrating pattern of employees who instead of finding creative solutions to daily issues, were rather just cogs in the machine, climbing to the top but without any real proactive creativity on their parts to really forward and progress the business/company itself.

I truly feel – one absolutely does not have to become an artist if they take an art class; taking that class, makes you think so very differently than in your math or science class, that it informS you and the other seemingly unrelated studies, and your brain literally forms very different and more malleable and thus more creative neuropathways to apply to Any problem you come upon, whether it be a math issue, a world economic issue, or how to make a dinner taste great though you are missing a few ingredients listed in the recipe.  !  that is the makeup of how humans function!  why do we need hobbies?  read books?  be inspired by movies?  there is something to say for the relevance of leisure activities!

The same goes vice-versa: some artists find themselves focusing mainly on art in their practice.  why not choose math, sciences, histories, to inform their work, if only to give a chance for a new way to look at the things they see daily.
There are myriad of artists already working this way, but i feel in some structures and views this interdisciplinary ’dilletantism’  is still not too accepted. I hope im quite wrong!

In the end, and this is getting cheesy now :!  I think of Leonardo da Vinci and others similar -- he was not an any-single-thing-ist.  He was a many-and-any-thing-ist.  he was interested in a handful of studies that had nearly nothing to do with each other, but because he did Not see any problem with having blurry and 'dilletante' boundaries between them, he progressed immensely.  He crossed over his knowledge from specialty to specialty, and I not only admire that sort of thinking - I believe it is essential to the next progressive stage of humanity, whatever it will be..!  we have been somewhat stunted for a reason for some time, and I feel one reason is the over-specialization of our education and our workplace..

25 february 2013````

When one is deprived of sleep for weeks, months, a few years.  Time stretches beyond what is measurable, comprehensible.  stop.  Please stop.  If only we could stop our minds’ tangentangentangents.  A lightSwitchClicK and the rest comes naturally, rhythmically.  If only I were able to tell when Monday ended and Tuesday began.  It was Monday for 3 years.

Very slowly, time trickled; the flesh on my face was less taught, green veins showed through less; the purple tunnels of my eyes were softer, less rotten.  I looked back a few months and realized with heart, I was sleeping again.

teeny sleeping tara cronin artwork


19 february 2013````

A wounded deer leaps the highest

What fascinates me is this Human thing to go on despite difficulty, large or small, and despite what we all at times let ourselves wonder is a seeming lack of clear reason.
We are searching Always to understand, and come closer and closer as we age, but Life never quite fully reveals itself to us, aparrently. This is most beautiful part. This is the thing that can make things feel futile, yet this is the Same thing that keeps us pressing forward, this need to know and progress.

I want to know the world around me, using my small self as a starting point, a vehicle and catalyst to understand better this Thing Called Life. If I can get as far as trying this constantly, perhaps I can communicate with many others who wonder the same. Perhaps I can better understand things like why i had That dream and more importantly - why anyone has dreams like That - why it matters and how. Why it brings us together in ways we don't always see.

just Doing helps me move toward these answers that I will never reach, but always strive toward, as a need, as a survival tactic, as a result of the Human gift of curiosity.

I remember the smell of chlorophyll things, Alive things, and a constant film over the day of that drone of nearby cicadas. I remember the taste of salt on my lips and stinging my nostrils as I floated underwater as long as possible and flipped endlessly beneath the sea. Water is Air is water is Nothing. I do this still, I try so hard to mimic that non-state of stillnesss, nothingness, Home

Verbal language is one of a handful of ways to convey the experiences we have had. The richness of the Earth is important to me. It is essential to my experience of the World around me. I would be a very different person if I could not feel moss and mud beneath my bare feet, or touch the pores of a matte and heavy stone, or smell the salt on a coast or hear the white noise of summer and the stillness and comfort of that blanket of Quiet in winter snow. I want to share this. And perhaps I want to flesh it out, in words, as if to define and validate for myself and solidify this thing I feel so close to. Perhaps I want to make it concrete, to say to myself, "I have experienced these things. I have experienced these things that make my life rich."

I remember the almost briny and sterile smell of the First Place. How it rose up like a cold mist from a sewer in the bright-moon-nights I lay awake, watching the ceiling turn clockwise

The first time I knew I, like anyone, had demons to expel was when I took up a pen to doodle and create Otherworlds and creatures and tableaus of Otherplaces. I decided however, not to listen to that voice that informed at the time. I did not want to be aware that I was doing this as a method of survival. To escape the parts of life I preferred not to face. Why does anyone find escape? Does anyone realize why or that we do it at first?

I remember climbing the tallest tree in our yard every day, a towering pine whose lowest branches my mother cut off trying to prevent me from making it to the top and falling. Up top, I would be still. And the world was at a safe distance and within this divide neither the world nor I were in motion, transition, or anything that grew toward Change

Though in an ideal world I could stay in this place of Nothingness, in Non-time, creatiNg is the thing that ultimately saves me from congealing in that state.

tara cronin an island of ink art

12 february 2013````


         writhing                        living


stretched and rounded and bulbous and sheathe-shapes of thin paper; tacked and pinned and paper-clipped into a corner into a window not to anywhere Here, anymore.

Heavy, hail-sized crystals of salt crusted above the shores; I am deep below. Still and Safe while seawaters move around my body; a mass i cannot discern from the water-vastness now. Vines and seawater and seagrasses thrashing dancing as they stay rooted growing out and up and across. Surrounding and protecting me.

I Breathe.

I am becoming the water I am a creature of the Earth of the Sky and of the Sea of all things Still and with pressure that muffles ears into heavy silence - peaceful, heavy silence.

Grasses, tree roots; white and gray paper-tree-roots that are branches that are roots again. Water. Roots sprawl like thick water-gushes. It is rushing white waves I can smell its brine and sour, its chlorophyll, its soil. My fingertips run over the vines and they can unexpectedly, suddenly and with playful rhythm rush out and grab my awareness and I enter a tiny stairwell, and endless vortex of light, only light.

I am a creature of this earth-sea, i thrash and jump with its Life; now we are one entity of sea, salt, chlorophyll, meshed veins, meshed vines, meshed blood, meshed water-waves. I am lost in the sea of water-Air that has no end. It is a good-lost. The kind of lost from which one does not want to be found. I am a child wandering in a water-forest of Light. Simmering whites of water-waves; filling my non-ears melding my non-tears hot and irritating yet running in place, a vast space to be still, weightless, air, water, free.


Tara Cronin Shiva Myth


1 february 2013````

|| Where is that place? Somewhere, with a capital S. The place. A Place that while impossible to find, is Home, and that in the end, has been with me the entire time. ||

I used to hate laughing.  Not any laugh, but a joyous laugh, with others, that lets my spirit free for a moment.  In the millisecond that I would almost laugh, something inside realized that if I began, that moment would end, and the laugh would be over, and the joy would be gone.  Everything felt contrived, unfamiliar, far.  But without those moments of in-betweens, this wouldn't be the Humanity we know and love.

It is our Mythologies, ancient and new, that will be inherently pushing us forward, letting us have a Reason.

Myth, and related—Tradition—in all their forms and formats of transference – passed orally from one grandfather to his granddaughter, written from one monk, one historian, one craft-er of Storie to any Reader; these create the strongest yet most elusive thread that links us all in some way at some point. Through generations, Myth and traditional habits, rituals, unspoken rules, simple sayings - these can be the stealthiest of creatures that hold our societies and our Hearts together.

History books cannot compete—or have at least, a very different manner of influence—with the impact that Tradition and Myth have in almost insidiously sneaking their thought-processes into the way we may think for the rest of our lives. A seemingly nonsense saying, ‘Step on the Cracks, Break your Mother’s Back!’ is so silly and so playful we overlook that this tiny and absurd phrase from childhood reflects but also perpetuates, societal views on larger things such as the roles of women, the expectations of children, the position and hierarchy of parents, elders, and mothers.

Thank goodness over some millennia we have Already crafted the tools - the Storie, myth, the simple childhood tale - needed to continue threading the whole of humans closer.

Myth is underrated; its impact is there whether or not we pay attention. We are after all, atoms whose sum make up a consciousness – it is because of that inseparable link that I make much of my work, reflecting on the importance of Myth to further try to understand our World.

Beneath neurotic digging or questioning, it can simplify; there exists a physiological Rhythm that we can listen to. The mind and body were never separate; beneath analytical tendencies we are Blood, Sinew, Synapse, Myth, Bone.

tara cronin myth art feather dragon

31 january 2013````

| just as one cannot use the language of math to decipher and understand a book written in a verbal language, it is useless to apply the language of logic to decipher matters of the heart and psyche |

pidgeon tara cronin artist si vale valeo


14 january 2013````

> "Man can live about forty days without food, about three days without water, about eight minutes without air, but for only one second without hope" <


14 december 2012````

We live only for each other - this is immensely beautiful but it doesn't seem to be enough; we tend to need an even higher purpose when everything we need surrounds us.



7 december 2012````

Ab Imo Pectore!



28 september 2012````

Again, My Sincere and Grateful Thanks :D

From the Museum / Exhibition:

tara cronin solo exhibition queretaro

tara cronin sangre de arbol blood of tree solo museum exhibition 2012

tara cronin mexico museum solo exhibition artwork photo

tara cronin solo museum exhibition

tara cronin artist solo

tara cronin artwork solo show

tara cronin art photography mixed media solo exhibition museum mexico

tara cronin t for transition blood of tree blood of me

tara cronin tactile art detail solo exhibition

tara cronin museum mexico queretaro exhibition art

tara cronin museum exhibition solo art show

tara cronin photography art solo show

tara cronin artist photography solo exhibition

tara cronin museo de la ciudad queretaro mexico solo exhibition



museodelaciudadqro.org - spanish
museodelaciudadqro.org - translated english

plaza de armas / newsjournal - spanish
plaza de armas / newsjournal - translated english

>> My LisT for today:
- Make the Rain warmer
- Close a little more your eyelids
- Save that found Moss
- Place those memories elsewhere, where you will be sure to find them when finally forgotten.


21 september 2012````

My VERY-THANKS to Azucena and Gabriel and to the Museo de la Ciudad Queretaro!!!

Tara Cronin museum exhibition 2012 September in Queretaro Mexico

19 september 2012````

My TV murmurs twenty-four-hour news at 4am, just loud enough for the drone of unexpected weather to come through, low enough to join the rest of the chorus I hear in this closet-sized apartment: the high-pitched buzz of two dying 40-watt bulbs, a small smiling rusting refrigerator, the tiny rhythmic clap of a fan against the ceiling. At the edge of my vision blue flickers from the dust-encrusted TV envelop the room, shadows of the furniture waver on the walls and floor. Often, if I haven’t slept for long enough, every creak and whir in the apartment locks into six-eight-time,
The Rhythm.


16 september 2012````

- Green and Gray
- Narcissus and Goldmund
- Mothers
- Mothers

dust and tara cronin

6 august 2012````

- Salt.
- Dark matter matters
- Airports are more magikcal than they seem

tara cronin digital collage

16 july 2012````


T: Sorry I don't know whats wrong with me.

E: You're alive. That's whats wrong.

T: Yeah well thats a really awkward and weird thing.

E: Yes it is, it really is.




2 july 2012````

- storie

tara cronin storie


3 june 2012````

- the arcane
- the anatomical
- time

cassa street tara cronin


20 april 2012````

|| :We need a new Mythology. We need to make our Own mythologies of this Time: ||

"I think as the world becomes more and more advanced, there will be
fewer well-adjusted people"

planes and plains tara cronin myth mythology



13 march 2012````

a wounded deer leaps the highest tara cronin art




Alexander Clark & Friends present A Valuation, on view February 24th
at 39 West 56th Street.

What is it that makes an object valuable? Can garbage become valuable?

“Garbage is spiritual, believable enough to get our attention, getting in the way, piling up,” writes A.R. Ammons in his poem Garbage. But can it become both a spiritually and physically precious thing?

In A Valuation, seven artists present new work that performs a strange alchemy, imbuing intrinsically useless or indiscriminate objects with a sense of worth and significance.

avaluation tara cronin artist


11 december 2011````

Some things are not meant to be known. Only Believed -

i was change tara cronin



03 december 2011````

facta non verba!

seahorse tara cronin facta non verba



15 november 2011````

~ LAST DAY to help Coneveyor Arts Reach their Kickstarter GOAL!!! Tonight, Midnight!!


conveyor arts, liz sales, tara cronin, magazine


2 november 2011````

~ "tremendum et fascinans- tremendous, horrible, because it smashes all your fixed notions of things, and at the same time utterly fascinating, because it's of your own nature and being" ~

kodama, tara cronin


10 october 2011````

> "But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? ..
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth.  
Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. 
Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself." <

toothy tara cronin new york


1 october 2011````

ps1 bookfair through 2 october!!
11a-7p Both Days!


ny moma ps1 art book fair 2011




29 september 2011````

a nruter ot emoh si elbissopmi, dna taht si semitemos woh ti dluohs eb.

tara stone book 2011

tara cronin stone book never enough fears

tara stone book 2011 fates



10 september 2011````

they were down there in the Belly of the whale. i waited.
a metal latch, sea water~

metal latch sea water tara cronin


24 august 2011````

~~I had decided Not to Grow Old for 400 Years~~

the fates lead those who will, those who wont they drag tara cronin



17 july 2011````

~~ "The Fates Lead Those Who Will; Those Who Won't They Drag" ~~

i had decided not to grow old for 400 years


08 june 2011````

"Don't cry because its over, smile because it happened!

ship and chair


06 june 2011````

Schizo honest list:

1- reeeeally far, most all the time.

Feels like I am watching myself, hearing a person named Tara speak, respond. But she is always a She, not an I.  She is far.  Far from me. Far from the life happening constantly around her. We. Very far from what i imagine and assume is that feeling of a center, a home, a contained and known Self.

The odd part- which can be both good and bad- is that i barely care. It's good bc then we can be very functional, get things done, generally interact w others and even joke around and express generally honest emotions. It's not noticeable to others. I have gotten very good at gauging how much it will or will not upset me, how distracted i may or may not get.  So that mostly I just ignore the feeling that I am not whole, and pretend like I'm interacting w people, and then it seems like i really am.  The funny thing is, i care IMMENSELY for the people in my life. I just cant FEEL that thing as much as it seems others normally do, during interactions. It makes me feel uN-human. From about ages 4/5/6 to 18/19 i honestly believed i was not human.  It was the only logical way i could emotionally make sense of this.

I fool even us.  Myself. Which is good bc then i don't get nearly as upset or paranoid as i used to.  I just accept it and carry on.  I accept the filter between me and the world.  To embrace it actually helps a lot.

It can be bad however, when she gets extremely overwhelmed by this innate sense that the detachment is unnatural and unpleasant deep down. Most often it really does not affect or interfere w Life, bc my schedule luckily permits me to turn into a recluse and hermit for a day or few on end when i cannot handle the feeling, the delusions, and facing people and the World. I often wonder if I come off to others as stable and healthy.  Bc that is all i show them.  Even my family, especially perhaps. I have especially learned to keep it from close ones most times, so as not to tax them, thank goodness. To cope i tend to literally, physically touch heavy objects, tactile and sensate things, keeping me grounded, connected.

Still it can be also bad bc i have a feeling of urgency brimming inside, welling up many times, that i want to explain to others how far i am, just to feel a connection, or a genuine bond, if only momentarily. But of course that is not only odd and awkward, but impossible. I act and look fine. So its impossible to explain how apathetic and simultaneously bursting with instability and far-ness she and we are. Bc it doesn't look that way at all from the outside. Perhaps like looking someone straight in the eyes, visually recognizing that theirs are brown in color and vocally expressing it, but then trying to explain that actually, you are blind.

The only timeS i do feel as One and at Home is when im completely alone, safe. Underwater, high up, with stillness, no change, no stimuli, just vast space and loud muffled silence.

2- if ppl ask, i tell them i am borderline, schizotypal, or other things that are the 'official' diagnoses.  I stopped doing that bc their response is always, no you're not. You're fine.  How do i clear it up: yes, I was, in my very darkest times, and there are always remnants.  i was extremely unstable and very spontaneous, often dangerously. I was very black & white in my thinking, very tunnel-visioned, somewhat PTSD, OCD, suicidal, masochistic psychologically and otherwise, bipolar, blahblahblah. and aren't we the same person, generally speaking, in the same body and mind for our one lifetime?

Borderline of all of the diagnoses, is something people, even doctors, tend to give up on historically, apparently.  But not untreatable. It's not impossible to treat at all. That is not why they give up. Just very, very very difficult, and very Risky.  It seems that the damage that could be caused by the mere EfforT of tryinG to treat it, to all parties, can often drain and destroy the spirits of everyone involved, to a very dangerous degree, while trying. And change may never even be successful in many cases because of this damage.

The only real reason i have learned to overcome,  to a decent degree, with lots of time, many scars, regrets and pain caused not only to me but more importantly, to loved ones, is bc i had immense, immense support.  That no one like me deserves, but I fell into luck for reasons unknown.  I try not to question it much more for that tends to deteriorate things. Rather, i find myself feeling grateful more hours than exist in a day. Very Unfortunately, things and hearts and parts of people have been sacrificed in order for me to become who i am.  To be functional, have perspective, not resort to lashing and crying and stabbing walls and myself and getting arrested and seeing shadow-figures and throwing knives and glass when i don't understand something. Being well adjusted, as some seem to think.

But again, how do i clear it up: it's not that simple. People don't 'get better' and then they are someone shiny and new. Is funny how friends and family seem to prefer not to remember the ugly parts of ones history. But why should they? Its ugly for their hearts also. Especially i would assume, since i lost any friends during my worst times. I am the most healed i could possibly ever be right now. I am a miracle. I believe in the impossible healing from love and human support. And time, time, time, as is said. [and yes, medicine, very much, but that is merely a crutch, and that is another rant.]

What is then difficult for me to grasp and balance is the memories of who i was and who i still have remnants of, popping up in odd and intrinsically built-in mannerisms, thought processes, etc. And then having people around me think, well she seems healthy. She has had no pain, and thus cannot understand mine. I can never claim to be in anothers shoes, but the fact remains that I will never be that Tara who died, who i had to make an effort to kill off, in order for this one to live.



27 may 2011````

THANK YOU Society Contemporary Gallery!

tara society contemporary may 2011

tara society contemporary may 2011

tara society contemporary may 2011

tara society contemporary may 2011

tara society contemporary may 2011

06 may 2011````



Group Exhibition Expected 2011 April-May at Society Contemporary Gallery in  NY, NY



tara cronin society contemporary gallery madison avenue anna di stasi



Group Studio Visit with Wayne Liu and Liz Sales for Festival Of Ideas NYC 2011

SAT: 7 MAY, 5-9pm | SUN: 8 MAY, 11-6pm

107 SUFFOLK STREET #411 / 4th Floor


tara cronin wayne liu liz sales new museum festival of ideas open studio


Participating and Speaking in Madison Avenue Gallery Walk / Tour in  NY, NY

SATURDAY: 7 MAY, 11-6pm


tara cronin tour speaking talk anna di stasi curator madison gallery walk



21 april 2011````

Strips and stripes of paper, it looms, it invites~


chairs there i found



18 april 2011````

[Older News!] >> T For Transition image in December Issue of Discover Magazine! :

Click HERE for Scans


1 april 2011````

OPENING TONIGHT!! -- THANK YOU Pictura Gallery :]

2-Person Exhibition in Bloomington, IN:


bloomington pictura 01

bloomington pictura tara cronin blood chlorophyll

30 march 2011````

1- points for another suggestion that arts backgrounds in education helps problem solving skills in non-arts fields, immensely!




12 march 2011````


Groups Exhibition in Beacon, NY:


love is a river



11 march 2011````

To be considered for small spirits, concealing and revealing their LifE.

1- Laughing on the rest notes

2- an Always warm rain

3- someone i thought i forgot

4- putting gold into the cracks, because remembering them could be a beautiful thing.

small spirit 0311


03 march 2011````

A Boulder is Pushed; Slowly, Doggedly.

  • I used to love reading the tales of ancient Greece and Rome.
  • We are doing this every day until we die, and more humans are born- it only repeats?
  • Photography’s ability to create alternate realities
  • Games of risk we play as children — vs the systems of defense and tolerance we develop as adults.  Dreaming ‘games.’ I would also climb trees 100 feet into the sky, sleep on the edge of my roof, do flips of the bookshelf ledge ten feet down onto my mother's bed.
  • Developments of different perspectives after my illness; I became afraid to face the world.  [talking to people, doing laundry, recovery, sleeping/non sleeping, trusting.]  Small systems of dealing with large and small daily anxieties.  I transformed from an impulsive, moment-loving risk taker, to someone whose rigidity prevents her from having a cup of coffee with a friend if its not in her calendar.  Being afraid to face the day without the Right pens in hand.
  • As children we embrace life and fear with excitement; as adults we develop ways to avoid these risks as if we will break our brittle psyches and bodies for the price of enjoying Life for one more moment.
  • How perspective alters everything.  Sisyphus has more than one way to look at his ‘plight. ‘

matters of the sun tara cronin


16 february 2011````


On the Curiosities of ChangE

** 1 **

Tara I is zero cells old, but has a consciousness enough to converse and respond by means of thought. It is not a body yet, not a "she," not a few cells, not quite a corporeal human.  It floats in a nebulous space between unborn and born; in a limbo of existence, of purpose.

Tara II exists some 29 years after Tara I. She has had the rare opportunity to contact Tara I via traveling one night to that warm yet unfamiliar place between sleep and wake where music seems always to lull a room or two away, yet can never be located. This is the kind of travel where after "waking" one is exhausted, having earnestly traveled in some way, and being always unsure how, yet very sure that something happened.

[[Tara II thinks about something her father once said to her- "Before anything else there's just you; so be your best friend."  She is hopeful to ask Tara I about her wavering understanding of her artwork, and of its ideas revolving around futility and purpose, repetition and cadence and rhythm in a Lifepath, the things that join and separate people in terms of illness and difference. She finds herself never quite getting there consciously before she wakes.]]

Tara II: You know who I am right?
Tara I: Of course I know, I know a lot right now.  You won't know a fraction of what I know when you’re in the world.
Tara II: Oh. I believe that; but I still have the feeling I'm here to warn you of things, or give you advice or something.  Did you know you'd have a pretty good family?  Even though it starts out rocky, you'll be quite grateful after a while.
Tara I: No I never thought of that.  I never thought of the concept of a family. Hm. Do you love this family?
Tara II: I love a lot of people.  Including my family.  But anyway, can we talk about other things, less concrete things?  I think we're on a time limit.  Are you getting that feeling?
Tara I: Well until you visited I didn't realize there was a thing called Time.  Did you make that up? That thing?
Tara II: I'm not sure; I'm not sure of a lot of things I think I believe; Can you tell me more about what you think you know?
Tara I: I don't think.  I just am, and there's no need for explanation at this point.  Can't you just do?  Just be? Doing is the thing that gives you a purpose after all.  Thinking is very useful, but it gets mostly in the way if you don't implement it.
Tara II: But what about all the possible–
Tara I: Possible doesn't count.  If you worry or focus on the possible without actually doing the possible it’s pointless. Potential is nothing.
Tara II: Then you're nothing.
Tara I: Hm. No, because before you came and messed this up, I was fine just being.  I just went about following my intuition; I didn't worry about what coulD be. Don't you have an intuition?
Tara II: I lost it.  I mean, I forgot how to listen to it, or something.
Tara I: I’ll tell you what-- you get out of here, stop messing with my purpose, and stop messing with the simplicity and strength of my existence, and I'll give you another intuition.  If you lose it again you're on your own.
Tara II: You can do that? Just give me another intuition?
Tara I: Look, I can do anything here; there's not much to do though, as you can see. Don't you see how much more it is to have a human's life?
Tara II: Well, I,..
Tara I: Get out of here! You're ridiculous.  Just forget about me and remember to listen to the Rhythms.

** 2 **

Water is air is water is Nothing.  No-thing-ness occurs in large waters, or high up in a windless sky, and deep under the surface and light above the sea.  I close my eyes to flee the world; the sea closes my eyes for me, darkening my vision, my awareness, and growing quieter the deeper I go.  Coldness envelops my body gradually, then quickly; freezes my thought and the surface of my flesh. 

Refreshing, refreshing, refreshing cold, not numbing, but awakening into a clear clean dark Nothing.  It is safe under here, vast and still; vast with space beyond comprehension, an envelopment by freedom: no clutter. No pressure except that upon my ears and my head, weighing in heavily; pressing an imprint of me into this wide floating stillness.  Fluid textures of this forever-sea heave with constant motion and also gently rock and ebb within itself.  Yet it is unchanging here underneath, not part of the life and motion and transition above.

I smell the thin air filling my nostrils, drifting transiently, a lightweight, small, invisible dragon‘s Greatwings flutter in no particular direction around my temples and eyelids.  High up the air is cold and the area sprawls in all and no direction and the sky feels like vast thick comforting water.  This state of weight and simultaneous non-weight is of familiarity.  Apparently, I am briefly Home.

sea scape




24 january 2011````

sometimes the best answer to a question is another question.



WhiteWalls, Part 01:

I see the sadness in the angry woman, large and taking control of every situation, especially the gossip among those who do talk in the ward during break and lunch.  I wonder what I look like, trying to read my books and doodling other worlds and their creatures, with eyes, scratched eyes; large unhealthy un-rested mucousy piercing eyes on half-faces of elves, fairies, dragons, sprites.

     I walk the halls too, like the boy, from the wired-sleepy-restlessness that cloaks my skin in its stickiness.  Sitting under the two payphones, I crouch with my knees folded and my arms limp on the linoleum white, except for the Rhythm in my fingers that will not stop, cannot stop, causing blisters to re-bleed and crust up again.  Hoping, imagining that someone will call, anyone that I know— a friend, anyone in my family, but no one calls.  They are afraid.  Both parties are afraid from this sanitary labyrinth of white.

     It is fun when the television is on and I watch the terror outside this place as if it is a cartoon, because I am so removed from anything outside these walls.  It is fun when we are allowed to go to the rooftop and sit on the bench or watch people play basketball, people who have energy left after what we all consume at med-times.

     It is not fun when the day closes.   The isolation that was concealed during the day that was pretending to be absent with the twenty other people present now shows its murky face.  A hooded face; I know there are eyes looking and cheeks and nose and mouth, but there is nothing to touch or put substance to. This is the face of this structure enclosing us all.

     At night I feel the walls come alive and breathe in the toxins of our insanity.  During the day they breathe still, but through a mask that keeps the inhalations at bay; keeps the noises of its awareness at a level of accepted quiet. At night this world, the only one I know now, has a consciousness of its own.

     It is my first night here and I do not sleep, for many reasons.  The walls’ breathing is keeping me awake.  But I cannot tell the nurse that or she will give me a pill to forget everything, something I don’t want to do.  I glimpse a glint of moon reflecting off the fenced, barred window; its strange calm woos me into a comfort that I am unfamiliar with, and I like it.



22 january 2011````

the fetishization of books and the like:

what a long, dusted spine, my fingertips follow the nape of its carefully embossed title. how it bends to the touch and yet stays firm in format, stron yet delicate in its hand-bound volume. Once a pile of pages, a manuscript waiting, waiting. Now carefully found in its fruition as a book, a single Book among many, words of a mind or of one story, one that can bring history and glory to the minds of many, to the minds of future humanities.

Like the sea, the pages of a book envelop the reader; when i am immersed i am temporariliy a bookfish if you will. i grow the gills necessary to breathe only Book, smell only the salt of the Sea, the ink and dust and pressed pulp of the pages. And the content, the content. The tales, the histories, the images. the recorded thoughts of one person, a person who exists, or had existed in the world, our one world. And then the world becomes smaller. And i am more connected with it, with a human,

Like the synapses of a brain, the books of the world act as nodes, concentration points of information. What is it about the book that so many are loving, cherishing, treasuring as modernity plows its path through Time? Some treasure the smell, dust and ink and being handled or freshly printed; others the touch of a matte, soft smooth yellowing page. Others still appreciate the signs of age, the notes in a pre-owned volume, soone else's voice, another human's thoughts indrectly involved, and privately exchanged with the author's, and yours, the reader's.

What in essence are these all symbols of? One thing that keep resurfacing is the intimate and private connection with other humans, other minds and hearts. We are not reading words, mere words. We are listening. We are exchanging. The ideas ruses of another being have been thoughtfully recorded in order to connect with another, with many, with those who have not yet been born. We are hearing peppered bits of histories in the side notes and third-party thoughts of another who has also read the book, another layer of exchange scribbled into the margins.

The other representation i think of is that of Time. One of the most valuable things we offer to each other, to ourselves for that matter, is our time. And the toll that Time takes on cherished information. A pile of bound pages that changed our thinking just a little, moving only forward in growth and thought. So many things signal the passing of time, the aging of objects, of ourselves, our world. At the same time that the path of Time is a human construct, we can still feel it. Books are dying. Reading is a thing of the past - at least, offscreen/page-oriented reading. To feel the weight of carefully bound information in one's hands, there is something to say for that.

And why do i keep saying how 'carefully' books are created?, whether on a machine press or by a single hand-binder? Is it not only thoughtful to write words on the part of the author, but also of the reader investing her time into the information provided and organized? Do we not become more mindful, if only for a few moments, when we commit to holding and utilizing those pages for the purpose of which they were created? And i like to think that, for a few moments, hours or otherwise, that mindfulness and heightened reflection lasts and lingers after a book is loved, read, read again. How much the mind and heart can change then, the more we read and exchange with the thoughts of others; the more we take our time in a world and hundred pieces of stimuli -- from billboards to newspaper headlines to scrolling images and ads and words on a browser page -- pass, fly through our eyes daily, hourly; and the more we s-l-o-w ourselves down in order to feed the senses along with the mind, and listen with our eyes, our bodies, our histories in the making.



11 january 2011````

im a new biggest fan!:




6 january````

>> my fiancee ed and i got into a discussion of how it would be helpful for each of us to grow, personally and professionally, if we educated ourselves in each others' specializations. [[that word - 'specialization' which i do not like, in terms of education and fields of profession in the modern world, is an entirely other post! ]]

so from now on i will post my Letters To Ed here. just as ed has generously and patiently introduced me to what he is knowledgable in and is always learning, he asked me to begin to introduce and teach [as best i can at my level!] mine to him. in this way both of our growth in the world will be less tunnel-visioned and approached with deeper understanding..ideally! The act of writing these out will of course also help solidify my minimal understandings.

Ed's are: the sciences and their progresses, political workings of our current and past world, history, writing, climate change and the environment, to name the main ones. Mine for now are visual art, writing, [ameteur readings in] psychology <<



MAYA LIN-- Best known for her Vietnam War Memorial, created in 1982, Lin combines art with architecture, utilizing the power that a space, an environment, can have over a human body walking through it. Think about it--what happens to your body and thus your mind and emotions, when you walk through the Looming Gray Skies of NYC? what else happens then, when you move that same body through a vast open and unobstructed plane of grass and sun, only free free free space?

think also of how ancients and contemporary architects alike, any architectural reflection of any culture, are acutely aware of the ways that walls and buildings are structured affects us deeply, subconsciously?

remember Hagia Sophia, a famous basilica/mosque/[now a museum] in Istanbul that we learned about in art history classes? the reason it has such an effect on peoples' hearts and heads is bc of its distinct structure.

the domes are tall tall tall 'as the heavens,' unreachable, unfathomable, always above our daily reality, and a place to ascend to, as God should be viewed [according to that design] yet the tiny windows built ever so carefully waaay up in the highest of domes let light leak in. Glorious light, not to be feared fully, but also to be inspired by, drop by tiny droplet, a taste of and a glimpse only, of what we can attain if we [or the people who entered the structure daily at least] continue to follow God. all of this psychological weight is conveyed in one split second as one walks through the walls of hagia sophia.

Hagia Sophia:


Back to Maya Lin. She is very aware of how structure affects our being. so to commemorate the Vietnam War fallen soldiers, she created a long, low, simple 'barely-structure' -- it does not stick out in a loud voice at all. it is soft, subtle, built right into the terrain, using the grass as its shelter and swooping gently into and out of the Earth, just as the soldiers do in their burial, and in their memory. very subtle, yet very strong, just as their courage and their existence and their passing is remembered. whether or not you think this is cheesy, these are the things we may feel when we walk through this structure!

and to inspire the living, while also recognizing the reality of the cycles of life and death, she builds it just at the height of the hill, bringing one simple cornered-wall that makes up its entirety, underneath the grass, alluding clearly to that cycle. to commemorate each soldier, she lists their names--no ephemeral symbols, only their identities one by one, all the same size and font, all of whom gave their best efforts as much as the next soldier. their names are listed in the order in which each fell, a poignant way to respect their time in the war, their time on Earth, and to also allude to the essential role of Time in the world of a human.

Vietnam War Memorial:

maya lin 01

maya lin 02

A more recent work, also utilizing the strength of broad and stretching open space, is Wave Field, created for multiple sites in the 2000's, made only of Earth and grass, at 240000 sq ft. it moves me not only bc it commemorates fallen victims, but bc at the same time that it invokes heavy ideas of death and buried Life, gentlenes and fragility [of life and a human's emotional and psychological existence], it also cannot help but make one walking through it feel its playfulness and Heart. there are living, 'moving' waves in the grass! what a synesthesia of the elements of the Earth, our Life-Giver. while waves should be only in moving waters, here they are in seemingly inert grass, in a place where life is happening constantly; we just have to be patient, and look carefully.

Wave Field:

maya lin 03

maya lin 04

"Out of tragedy and loss can come life and celebration"

If you are not yet convinced of the relevance of artwork! if you ever walk through these works and still do not feel the wegiht and poignancy that they can have, then, at least many others do daily when visiting these sites, and these insights of Life/death/Time/humans, these things we know all the time yet always need reminding of, are spread like a web person by person, life by Life.



1 january````

To objects and their life-stories, to Humans' resiliences, and to every worn-town-written page of a loved book~



26 december````

Only the snow knows~

matters of the Sun


21 december````

Last few days to Vote for Me Please! Click on the 5th Star in the upper-right-corner! Thank you!!!! :



20 december````

In response to a post about being atheist vs believing in God: http://blogs.wsj.com

[i may be a hypocrite but ill say it anyway!]

Using rationale, reason, logic and honesty, and also science and factual information, is essential to growing as a human. but using it alone without any food for the spirit, well i dont know about that. you dont have to believe in a god to do that. then again Faith and belief can be two different things.

mythological and scientific roots apparently were once symbiotic. today they are opposites. people--both very religious people and very un-religious ones, seem to depend way too much on trusting in reason. why not, right? we benefited greatly, historically, from the enlightenment era. but now we trust mostlY in reason, fact, physical Proof. and we seem to not trust our heart or spirit anymore.

we need facts to ProvE that we have mass and laws of gravity to prove we have weight. or cannot fly. and we tend to take to those facts to also decide on our spiritual health. we need Facts to tell us what to believe-- instead of both using facts, AND also trusting an intuition we all were born with.

i dont see anything wrong with being an atheist, or being religious, or agnostic, at all! but once people begin to impose their ideas upon others, that causes a divide. and, as the tone in the writing says to me, once people begin to become angry at the lack of proof, that signals to me that people on all sides are often using the same tools of reason to argue further into that divide, rather than have empathy or compassion for each other.

life is too short and too rich to try to be more correct than another or feed the divides in any way after some time.


16 december````

bis repetita placent! -- the things, that are repeated, are pleasent --

matter of the heart - water


26 november````

D I S T R A I T :

dis.strait adj.

Inattentive or preoccupied, especially becuase of anxiety [[or fear]].


Old French: destrait, past participle of detraire [modern distraire], from Latin distrahere ["distract"].


dartitis-- A nervous condition which prevents a darts player from releasing the dart at the optimum moment.



15 november````

beneath our consciousness we are all Blood, Sinew, Bone, Synapses. 

beneath our consiousnesses we are blood and bone



9 november````

it's a shame: who said art and science are so separate and unrelated? or should be looked at as isolated and separate categories? i would rather ask leonardo da vinci!



5-7 november````


Artist Books Included at UPCOMING BOOKFAIR:


5-7 November 2010




2010 ny art book fair flyer

Image courtesy Arielle Bier and Michelle Leedy


NEWS: october````






>>CLOSING RECEPTION-- LAST DAYS of EXHIBITION!!: 27 october 2010 5-8p



>RADIO INTERVIEW! after 15 october reception from 9-10p,

On 89.9 FM WKCR with Jennifer McAdoo; archived audio will be on Nature Within website: http://www.naturewithinexhibit.com/


>OPENING RECEPTION: 15 october 2010 6-9p


nature promo


UPCOMING: 9 and 11 october 2010````

"RE:FORM SCHOOL is a high profile group art exhibition, event series and public awareness campaign taking place in New York City, that brings together the creative community in a call for the reform of the American Public Education System.

We believe that it is the right of each and every child in the United States to have access to a high quality education.
We believe every child should be allowed the opportunity to shine and thrive. They should feel safe, challenged and excited to learn. They should be encouraged to bring creativity, imagination and innovation into our future.

Throughout history artists have lent their creative expression to issues of culture & politics. They combine innovation with art’s greatest strength – the ability to transcend boundaries and make an impact, while not relying solely on language. We would like to invite you to join together with many of today’s top contemporary artists, hundreds of volunteers, sponsors and grass roots organizers to send a loud message that the time has come to fix our ailing public school system.

RE:FORM SCHOOL is a REDUproject. REDUstands for rethinking, reforming and rebuilding US education. Powered by people and technology, REDU is a movement designed to expand and encourage the national conversation around education reform by providing information and resources to learn, a community platform to connect, and the tools to act. Get involved at letsredu.com.

RE:FORM SCHOOL will be open to the public, Saturday, October 9th, 2010 through Monday, October 11th, 2010 between the hours of 10:00 AM – 6:00 PM and is located at 233 Mott Street, New York City, NY 10012.




24 september 2010````

i LOVE new york. onLy in NY.

dryad grasshair


23 september 2010````

was a part of Brooklyn Fireproof Film Festival on 18 Sept! Happy BDAY mom! INDECISIVE MOMENT / PULP LEGEND:: http://www.pulplegend.com/home.html


7 september 2010````

featured on discover magazines blog, and on gizmodo [but its not slides, its s!! and also on pattindica blog:





17 august 2010````

all human only human~

it is a human characteristic to be aware of contrasts- is it? that contrasts reflect transition and change- and that these things signify a truth. and that we are interested in truth at all.

chlorophyll scan revealed



08 august 2010````

- LIFE!! why not! action perpetuates action~

action perpetiates action



02 august 2010````

- I remember the smell of chlorophyll things, alive things, and a constant film over the day of that drone of nearby cicadas.  I remember the taste of salt on my lips and stinging my nostrils when I would float underwater as long as possible and flip endlessly, in the sea.  Water is air is water is Nothing.  I still do this thing, I try and try to mimic that non-state of stillness, nothingness, Home.

- I remember I would always win at hide-and-seek because I hid on top of the refrigerator, and no one ever looks up.

- I remember the almost briny and sterile smell of the first place. How it rose up, a cold mist from a sewer in the brightmoon nights that I lay awake, watching the ceiling turn.

- I remember sleeping on the highest part of the roof, feeling safe and not knowing that was why I did that all summer.




21 july 2010````

shortlist of summerthingS

- rhythms and cadences: droning through hair/ cracking the dusk / floating through eyelids / washing up on shore / waking vast sleeping grasses

- eyes: furled in sunny brows / closed in future dreams / closed for distant pasts / closed to let lidveins rest / closed to sleeeep in the dark and chlorophyllic

- airs: calm and thick and cool and erratic / leaving close waters for the tundra

- musics: solid silence


16 july 2010````

no one ever grows up; they just grow::::

growing tree up night



16 july 2010````

Blood[+] Works on Rebecca Horne's Blog; Photo Director for Discover Magazine!



7 july 2010````

terrible waters in the head make terrible storms from reality fled

we are lost always. whats funny is that when i am peace with this, i call it Life, Living, Searching, Growing.  when i cannot accept this Constant of Lost, i call it lost, Only Lost.  But no matter what i am Always lost. Lost is Life. Lost is room to go and find and move and grow.

none, lost


20 june 2010````

the shortlist of lists for now

- the list of locations of golden drawers

- the list of stains in the heart

- the list of if's and why not's

- the list of saved cracked teapots.


19 june 2010````

Animal/Creature/Man- life of, routine of, blood of, meaning for/of, differences between, connections between;

Above- the world of motion; the routine world; the things that move and grow and change; still winds, still heights, still self, still;  we cannot be still as much a we try;

Apogee- of life; of a lifetime; is there one? Are there any?  Of humanity; of a day; of a daily anatomic cycle;

Below- the world of motion; the routine world; the things that move and grow and change; surrounded by thickness of water and loud silence and pressure; stillness; [see Above]

Birth- the first seemingly still months before; stillness in water; water is air is breath is stillness is silence;

Balance- in Rhythms;  in visual states; off kilter balances such as Four, Three, Two Plus One; in inner states; constant attempt to find, while always moving, changing, growing; water in a container in constant motion, finding balance while adapting to the shape and angle;

Blood- fascination with; peace in; beauty or appreciation in; thrilling nature of; thriving though us coursing through veins; moving Life forward without question without obstacle without fear; life-giver, life-propeller; life-symbol; simplified symbol; easy symbols, symbols with judgments;

Buoy- a safety that is not a safety; prevents the sinking into silence and peace underneath; prevents the letting go of rigidities;

Collecting- hoarding, difference between;

Chaos/Order- [See Balance]- constant balancing between, overlapping of; fractal patterns in life, in blood-veins, in growth patterns of the psyche; in all things life, resembling simply and relating complexly;

Change- aversion to; constant battle with; acceptance of; embracing of;

Chance- relation to and causes of change; impulsivity;

Curiosity- propelling one forward; propelling one backward;

Climbing; high up, Above; [see Above]

Death- curiosity in; measurement of; sadness of the after; not mine but of all loved ones;

Discovery- of new, of old/new, of sensory new, of new ways to be above and below Change;

Distance- from the World of Change; from the world that is Change; from other humans; from the self; from the Present; from the immediate; from Now; from Thens; from motion; from the voice coming out of my mouth; from the thoughts and actions and movements that seem to be mine; from my mother; from everybodyEverything; from time that is happening always;

Danger- false yet realistic sense of; creation of; clouded view of; excitement from;




12 june 2010````

                    ---BLOOMSDAY 2010 GROUP EXHIBITION/READING/EVENT!---

James Joyce's Ulysses
Exhibition, Projection, Reading
25CPW June 16 from 6-10pm
25 Central Park West, New York, NY (at the corner of
W 62nd Street)

The exhibition, projection, and reading will be held in the downstairs gallery.
The projection will run from 6-7pm. Readings will begin at 7:15.
This event is open to the public.

bloomsday 2010



31 may 2010````

- "online privacy" is an oxymoron. doesnt make sense, and it shouldnt really be expected.

- there is something very comforting in: lists, sublists, new things, found things [that are Old and then seem new [[[ like a photograph or a greaT pen ]]] ], attempting to own my punctuation while note-taking, the power of punctuation to Prioritize, and counting.

- Seven/7/1+6/3&4/16-9/63 divided by 9/7x1/ is nice today; 4 is nice always.

- the [not so clear] difference between writing to read it and writing to expel it.

- the relationship betwen fear, anxiety, laziness, and paralysis.

---a round thought//a lightweight eye//a prickly pinky-promise//a sweet egg//a worried hand//an unlucky smile//a blurry story//a laugh in summer//a green apple with dark chocolate and basils//frantic feet//loose ears.

- cobolt blue, the red of that shirt.

two friends



[[belated for 28 APRIL!!:]

a Belated THANK YOU to all who made it out on Thursday!!!!

installation views:thesis installation view

thesis installation view

thesis installation view

thesis installation view

thesis installation view

thesis installation view



23 may 2010````

mfa, graduation



17 may 2010````

i ekil stnedicca.
yletanutrofnu i ekil selur erom.
evi tog ot evah a retteb metsys.

grass feet memory



10 may 2010````


Heavy, hail-sized crystals of salt crusted above on the shores; I am deep below, still and safe though seawaters move around my body, a mass I cannot discern from the vastness now. Vines and seawater and grasses thrashing growing as they stay rooted growing out and up and across, thrashing around surrounding me.

I breathe.

I am becoming the water I am a creature of the earth of the sky and of the sea of all things still and with pressure that muffles ears into heavy silence.  I am a creature of this earth-sea I thrash and thrive with its Life; now we are one sprawling entity of sea, salt, chlorophyll, meshed veins, meshed vines, meshed blood, meshed water-waves.  I am lost in a sea of water-air that has no end. 

It is a good lost; the kind that I never want to be found from here.  Simmering whites of water waves; filling my non-ears melding with my non-tears hot and irritating and yet running in place, a vast space to be still, weightless, water, air, free.

blood topographical salt



14 april 2010````

I am the hunter; i hunt futilities in Time.

but after all, isnt Life to be teetering always on the cusp of futility? isnt that moment when i free myself of the un-balance, the moment i can forget and be free?



>>>>>>>Thank you all for coming out; your visits are very much appreciated :D :D :D :D

9 april 2010````



2010 ICP-Bard MFA Thesis Group Exhibition                           On View: 9 April--23 May

OPENING RECEPTION: Friday 9 April, 7:00-9:00p;                      Alumni Reunion Toast: 8p

School of the International Center of Photography                                   1114 Ave of the Americas at 43rd St






30 march 2010````


2010 ICP-Bard MFA Thesis Group Exhibition                           On View: 9 April--23 May

OPENING RECEPTION: Friday 9 April, 7:00-9:00p;                      Alumni Reunion Toast: 8p

School of the International Center of Photography                                   1114 Ave of the Americas at 43rd St



17 march 2010````

sometimes hellos are just as sad as goodbyes.

hello goodbye



05 march 2010````

just for the record i hate 5. but today happens to be a day to write anyway. besides, its the 6th in other parts of the world. pheW.

there are places we know that are part of what we call Home. not always physical places, but places we are certainly familiar with. that we have memories of, that yet, we know are not part of our current file of experiences.

we all have visited these Places; they surround our daily lives, daily environments, daily psyches. these are Places that could be long ago, could be still standing and yet have never quite existed.

i am searching. if i walked through such a place that is here and yet nowhere, that is familiar nonetheless, i would feel at Home. i would find that place that, in the end, has been with me the entire time, and that i will also never truly find.

blood photography scanned life tara cronin 2010



02 march 2010````

i was talking to my friend about the strange disconnect we see happen on sites based on interchangeability and 'response' - when a response is nothing more than a 'like comment' or a 'post' that just floats in time and cyberspace [that was really fun to use that word!]

it seems at first that these sites- facebook, twitter, what have you. are in the end creating 'nothings' of empty exchanges- they become small exchanges that mean nothing in comparison to honest and real human exchange. people post a 'like' or a 'join a group' and feel they are connecting while they dont even talk to each other or see each others face.

but, they arE connecting. ! why take internet exchanges so seriously- of thesE particular sites? the very nature of these interchangeability-reliant sites Are to be taken lightly i think; they are structured in the same way we have Small Talk. which does not ever make meaningful talk--

--but doeS make meaningful exchange, and connection. in that these small and seemingly pointless exchanges keep people in contact with each other on the surface level- that is needeD for deeper connection. from there we gain various levels of connection- just knowing someone is paying attention to your 'posts' and what youre up to, to opportunities for further talk and more truly meaningful connnection via email or meeting in person. and what about that feeling of connection we get when someone doeS reply with a 'like' or a comment? that is a sort of reassurance that people wanT to interact in this strange non-space.

the internet is not quite Devaluing how we exchange- it is more highlighting the strange natiure of the Range of human exchange that already exists in various forms. arent the people we keep in these Light contacts with, the same people we might never have kept in contact in the first place, since we dont see them in person or live near them, etc? isnt it a nicer thing to keep in minor contact with people we rarely see anyway, opening opportunities for more exchange, than keep in only intense contact with very few people, but closing off other opportunities alltogether?

rice noodles white



27 feb 2010````

i never understand why it matters. and why despite this discord between reality and awareness, i tolerate it and celebrate it every day.

what is this thing powder medicine



23 feb 2010````

its funny how one day we wake up in an adults body, with a longer history than the last you checked; and yet no matter how large and aged our bodies get we are always so very small at times.

lost tara 2008



17 feb 2010````

anxiety abounds in places and times of life that, no matter how often quelled, will never quite find balance in the same way as the reliability of a single hour or half-day. however somehow, i always make it out alive. how petty our inner monologues can be!

things are never quite as epic as i envision them. still, in underlying waves i feel the rush of life beneath me, within my tiny capsules of flesh-cells, coasting in pools of vitreous humor, and through the repeating fractal carriers of long quiet journies that are my veins.

garden of eyes



13 feb 2010````

its my favorite when things are ok after they werent; before theyre not again, until again, they are.

eyes flies veins claws




08 feb 2010````


its odd how people congregate to a space and then ignore each other. lifelifelifelife. If we all knew why we were doing this, and knew the Point, i suppose it wouldnt be Life. i still wake up and ask myself each morning, what is this thinG?

words i hate today:

- glossy; fresh; marbled; nothing

words i am liking today:

- why; never; everything; finally

it may change tomorrow, everything always does.



02 feb 2010````

- I remember climbing the tallest tree in our yard every day, a towering pine that my mother cut off the first few branches of, trying to prevent me from making it to the top and possibly falling. I would be still and the world was at a distance and neither of us was in motion, transition, or anything that grew toward change.



27 jan 2010````

"We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.”

blue plant day



22 jan 2010````

PLEASE VOTE for ME: http://www.artistswanted.org/tcronin1981



19 jan 2010````

strange; here i to speak to no one and everyone; the things we find ourselves saying.

today. today is gray and grey with soft light and perfect cool air, and i am alive with others, and that is a grateful thing always.

back, love, ed, years



- C u r i o u s l y -


- Human Hair Binding:

Hair Talk





101 Treasures of Chetham's




- Beautiul :

Steve Karlin and Ann Veh


[[ courtesy thx to Minny Lee ]]



- A Most Pleasant Read:

Creativity And Refusal


[[ courtesy thx to Wayne Liu ]]



> Before Facebook

The Republic of Letters



- Please watch; You may love it as I do:

>-Pale Blue Dot



> Pandora Marie

With The Mast / UpUpUp


~ OPENING the Eyes and the Ears~


By Pierre Bourrigault & Samy Guyon Bessac



~ DAILY Magick, A Long Smile~

>Laurent Briet

With the Eyes of Every Man Riveted Upon Her



- A Return-to-Often Place

The Morgan Library


- [ Sic- ]

Little Inferno


- Ongoing

Brain Pickings

You dO want to read this, regularly :]


- Recently Read/Re-Read/ing:

Fragile Things
Neil Gaiman; 2006

House of Leaves
Mark Z. Danielewski; 2000

The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Neil Gaiman; 2013