Loving Love

We love love and we love art in all its various forms as well. It inspires us endlessly so we wanted to show you what inspires love...

Agnes Martin, Loving Love 2000

"The only triumph in life is the triumph of life itself. Our awareness of it we feel as happiness. Art work represents this happiness. It does not represent life because life is infinite, dimensionless. It is consciousness itself. And that cannot be represented. But our positive response to life can be, has been, and is represented in art work" (A. Martin, quoted in "What We Do Not See If We Do Not See," Writings/Schriften, H. von Dieter Schwarz, New York, 1992, p. 114)
M+A NYC's sweet crescent safety pin for when you wear your heart on your sleeve!

Danced to Pärt’s solemn Spiegel im Spiegelby a couple dressed in simple attire on a sparse stage, After the Rain’s pas de deux is a lovingly tender work full of heartfelt emotions.

Christopher Wheeldon’s After the Rain premiered in 2005 at NYCB’s annual New Combinations Evening, which honors the anniversary of George Balanchine’s birth with world premiere ballets. A ballet in two parts, the first section is set to Arvo Pärt’s Tabula Rasa, and features three couples. For the second section, only one couple returns, and performs a haunting pas de deux set to Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel. Originally performed by Wendy Whelan and Jock Soto, this was the last ballet Wheeldon created for Soto, before Soto retired from dancing in June of 2005. Here at the Vail International Dance Festival on 8.1.11 at the Gerald R. Ford Amphitheater in Vail, Colorado is Wendy Whalen and Craig Hall.

See the Pas De Deux here
Our beautiful horn pod bowls (aerial view to make a heart) in fawn and milk caramel.



I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
- Pablo Neruda

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