Butterfly Necklaces!!

Very exciting news ON!C lovers!!!

ON!C and JP have started a new project:

Butterfly lace necklaces!

For every girl who doesnt want a bowtie but wants something just as pretty around her neck

check it out.

JP butterfly necklaces

Talk to you soon,

Love always,

JP and Camille

Where is Camille?

I couldnt be more stressed out right now gang.

There is a predator on the loose and there is no one who can stop him.
He is the king of all the chairs. All the evil chairs, stealing your belongings, eating your children and giving you the kind of back ache that no acupuncturist can suppress.

He has taken over your city.
He is eating you alive and there is no way to stop him.
Camille has been captured!
She has been kidnapped and is now a hostage of his evil ways!

to be continued....

You're a Lucky Fish...

ink on paper 6" x 8"
The way I see it, there aren't that many fish in the sea,
in fact, there is only one.

Wah.

My new heroine.

Jellyfish

10"x14", oil on canvas

Beware of Chair (Series III, Painting I)

10"x 15", guache and oil on canvas

Andrea (portrait)

10" x 15" oil on canvas

Alone in a Big City (Series II) (Painting I)

18 " x 24" guache and oil on canvas

THEATER!

Click me for details!

Flower Power Series (painting I)

28" x 36" oil and acrylic on raw canvas

A Mini Circus

Hey!

Chicken in Brooklyn

TigerBike

My Samurai Mural For MW

oh yes.

Crafty

Apple Picking = Apple Pie

Mailboxes are sweet.

This old friend

The way Bird Houses should be

black and white floors

Venus?

Bold statement of the week- my horoscope has been insanely accurate the past few days.

I know its a silly habit to check ones horoscope, but in all fairness it can be somewhat reassuring that someone decided to check the universes' relationship to humans.

I hear Venus is coming on strong this week. Good for her. Watch out ladies.
There's probably no better news for any Camille.
love-
jp

Camille is back

here we go again...........

I find Hello Kitty in the most perfect places...

Sometimes even Hello Kitty gets weird...

A toast, or a light for Andrea Graugnard

I'm not an angry type.

I am concerned for the feminists of today.
The general message that women and men have worked towards in understanding equality hasnt been lost, nor forgotten but manipulated by current standards. Standards that have been created by all classes throughout history.
The people who have made it possible for men and women to work together, to get paid similar if not equal wages (in some fields), and who have made it possible for women today to acquire jobs that in other years they couldn’t have dreamed of.
All these accomplishments aren’t what I am going on about.

There is more.

I for one am not one of the women who have made it possible for women like myself to be viewed as equal. If anything I am the exception.
I continue to do all the things that women 200 years ago used to do.
Women are women and men are men. But that would be a terrifically boring topic.

Sure i have a somewhat educated rhetoric, well read, multilingual and a good conversationalist, am proficient in drawing, music, and can hold my own in the kitchen. Some men would congratulate me on being an old-fashioned, “good” woman.

The paradox however is evident! I am not a woman of the 1800s! I have learned from history; the thought that women are mere caretakers is an absolute unrealistic understanding of where women stand today. We are well read in the works of enormously celebrated feminist authors, and it is ignorant to believe that women today haven’t taken the pains and work of these previously successful women into, what we believe a common standard - often taken for granted to say the least.
It is naïve to truly believe that a woman of that time still exists today; it is to undermine the work of historical women who have taken it upon themselves to be the exception to the role.

The rule.
In itself it is meant to be broken, and if a role has ever been anything but a rule posted strictly by the role women have chosen, than it is nothing but a misconception. Women today choose to ignore their obligation. Perhaps we have been given too much choice. Historically, (if given by choice or by nature), women have been the caretakers, not to say of course that men would be better at the “job” but merely to say that women don’t have to be. It is not an obligation, and today it is a choice.

I do not mean to sound "over western" in all this going on about feminist this and feminists that.
But it is my reality.

Again this paradox!
Diderot wrote of the paradox of the comedian; today perhaps we can adopt his phrasing- it is the Paradox of the role of Women. I am not the first to speak of the contrived understanding that women are faced with the difficult task of choosing their passion over their family or vice versa. I’m not saying either that it is an easy decision to make; rather, I am exploiting the idea that there are men who desire a woman with ridiculous historically forced priorities that for some women are by no means natural. To the point, of course, that a woman is faced with enormous guilt and even scrutinized at the mention of not wanting children, a family, a "good" man, etc. etc. etc.

What a disillusionment to say that women are either here or there. That they are either whores or mothers! But we are still considered in such terms! What a ridiculous man he is to believe that these are our only two options when man has proven himself capable of both for centuries!

What woman is not tired of such comparisons? We must abolish these misconceptions! She is not a whore! But perhaps she is not a mother either! All women are caretakers in the same respect that all men are hard working! What about those lazy bastards?! Who choose not to work, who choose to take the money from his wife?

Today, the term is still used “ Equality of man”. Just yesterday a guy came over to me and asked "would you like to petition for the gay marriage movement? We are working towards a higher equality of man".

Please and no thank you, at least not on those terms.

How can a woman begin to respect a man when men don’t respect each other?

It is not to say that it is the end. Hell no. We are just beginning. There are no longer books for men, nor are there books strictly for women. There are merely the well and the poorly read. Women read books “for” men, when will men begin to read books “for” women? We read it all don’t we ladies? Much of our pre 1800s literature was written by men, or at least published by them, were they not? Surely Mary Shelley was not the first woman to write a novel that would interest all sexes.

I will not accept that a mans horizon ends so prematurely.

Hear ye! Hear ye! NEW EVENT!!!!!!!!!!!

STAMPS ARE FUN!!!

I went stamp crazy today!
I made one for PandaRunner and of course, i had to give Camille the same attention!!!

Tumble dry

There is the tumbleweed
which gathers at its seams
the dust and particles from the wind
and from the path it sees.
It roasts beneath the sun
and crumbles from the rain
and as it passes floaters by
it finds the richest seas.
The deserts waves and dunes
that fold into themselves
capture the weeds in its billowy comforter.
It skips and pops and rolls
down the unpaved roads of sand
and the forgotten caress of winds
which long since have passed.
Cry out to me oh tumbleweed
dont leave me out and dry
like your skeletal frame!
id love to wrap you in my arms and sooth your coarse sad bristles.
the weeds once soft fresh from the ground
have they frightened you so?
how the warmth caused you to grow
such salt.

An unanswered truth
lies behind the ears
and lingers with fear.

Forget me! she shouts
as she runs to the darkest corner of her cove.
She dives in and glides behind a veil of naive sensitivity.
The same as that of an innocent child.

she does not know what it is she has done
when love was most fervent and
as herbaceous as fresh mint.

a jungle

Lunacy and fear exploding with laughter from a deep and forbidden affaire of love.


i think that makes sense.
if it doesnt let me know.

xoxox
Abi , Magician of camille-like 'ships.

a reminder

Ciranda cirandinha
Vamos todos cirandar
Vamos dar a meia volta
Volta e meia vamos dar
O anel que tu me deste
Era vidro e se quebrou
O amor que tu me tinhas
Era pouco e se acabou



also note- heart of glass, blondie.

A long and old story of love

Se Esta Rua

Se esta rua
se esta rua fosse minha
eu mandava
eu mandava ladrihlar.
Com pedrinhas
com pedrinhas de brilhantes
para o meu
para o meu amor passar.

Nesta rua
nesta rua tem um bosque
que se chama
que se chama solidao.
Dentro dele
dentro dele mora um anjo
que roubou
que roubou meu coracao.

Se eu roubei
se eu roubei teu coracao
tu roubaste
tu roubasteo meu tambem
Se eu roubei
se eu roubei teu coracao
foi porque
foi porque te quero bem.

Gureje Boutique....and Doll Neighborhood show!!!

Doll Neighborhood was a Collective of artists who for whatever reason got together once every few weeks and made dolls.We exhibited our work at the Gureje Gallery in Brooklyn.
Each week we would sit together, eat, sew, and talk about our dolls. It sounds crazy. It was awesome. If i could go back and do this everyday, i would.
Thank you Gureje, and Doll Neighborhood!!!!!!!!!

Meet my neighbor- his name is Mous(tach)e.

A balloon ride

Hello? Are you there?

noise

There is silence. In the meantime, however, there is mostly noise.
Comfortable noise, loud noise, quiet noise, the noise that's in your head reminding you to finish what you started, your neighbors making noise, your friends making noise that you participate in, noise on the street, noise in your dreams, and the noise that you hear when your reading a book, the noise inside the book, the noise you aren't hearing at the moment but know what it sounds like. Noise, like silence is a very complicated and simple thing. It is forever contradicting itself. Its there when you dont want it to be and when you want it its not.

There's something about noise that's just as wonderful as silence. The noises your lover makes when sleeping, the noises you hear in the park of children laughing, the soft hum of a favorite song or the low notes of a deep ocean. There is sound. and there is silence. and they need each other to survive.

The language of a stranger, the language of a foreigner, the language of a friend, or the language of a lover, all take time to understand. There is an undeniable comfort in hearing someone speak a language you understand. To relate to things using the same vocabulary you would yourself. Of course i dont mean language in its generic use, but language in its purest form. One definition says that language is the "communication of meaning in any way". i like that.

Misunderstandings are never to be dismissed. If we were to ignored them, we would never be able to understand anything. Misunderstandings are just as important if not moreso.

But all this, this is all noise. This is all a simple matter of sounds and science. Its mathematical. It is understood that its existence has an equation.

But its just noise. The comings and goings of waves and intangible matter at a particular distance from our ears.

and then there is silence. There is nothing. Can we mathematically find that silence is there, apart from the lack of noise? In that lies its beauty. The beauty of noise and the beauty of silence and that they will never touch. They will be one for all of infinity by our standards, our meticulous calculations...and yet....

In our presence, noise and silence meet at the very final moment between when one begins and the other stops. We know that there is noise when there is silence, but we are too weak to hear them at the same time. we can see a silent couple holding hands, but perhaps we are with a group of 30 people at the time, all of whom are making a tremendous amount of noise! How can we know for sure that that couple is so silent, perhaps he is whispering that he loves her, or that she is sweetly whispering that she too loves him.

Maybe there is a place, where silence and noise can coexist. Maybe it is a beautiful place. But id rather not live in such a place, i dont believe there would be many misunderstandings in a place like that.

i hope you know what i mean.

love,
JP and Camille

pink clouds can be held up on their own, but lonely caterpillars arent as brave.

The beginning of a series of love songs

Dont forget the empty spaces

Sometimes there is a silence.

There are couples in bad restaurants, at the beginning of a movie when the previews have but just started, in a tiny coffee shop. In hundreds of places and some of these couples talk to one another as if they have hundreds of things to say, to tell, to retell, to repeat, to announce, to question. They propose all this information voluntarily, and hope that the other person can relate, or argue or understand. They talk as if there weren't enough time in the day or even in life to say all the things they need to say.

but then there are couples. The ones who have been married for years, who appear to have used up all their words, or have lost all their words. those who look so bored, those who don't look at one another.
There are the friendly lovers who caress each other and laugh at every word and appear to be immensely jolly and fulfilled.
There are the serious lovers who talk about all those things the man of consequence worries himself over.
Although all these instances come up in any said relationship, none of them are specific to any kind of love. But there is one, filled with little complications, that is so subtle that it is deserving of a certain recognition in a certain tiny world, called Camilleville.

There is the couple. The one that you notice right away. The one you cant pinpoint at the instant you see them. Are they in love? are they terribly bored? are they wonderfully happy? You cant know! And it drives you mad. So you stare at them.

They pass each other the hot sauce as if he who picked it up first, was only lifting it to pass it to the other- because he knows she needs it very badly. Then you notice they are blushing, and it is because they grazed fingertips ever so gently, but you do not know this. So you smile because you now doubt that they know each other very well, you smile because you think you've captured a moment of new romance.

You look at them moments later and they are laughing at each others jokes, but you know they didnt say a word because you are sitting right beside them. and now you are lost. It wasnt a laughter of awkwardness, it was something that can only grow from something small, like the pleasant realization of a mutual sense of humor.

Chopsticks in one hand and shyly holding each others fingertips under the table and laughing then beaming at one another then nothing. and suddenly, as though they just remembered they were in a restaurant, they resume eating.

There are couples like this who with a glance, nod in tiny agreement. It may not have even been a nod but such tiny gestures don't have words. Words are too long and complicated and mean too many different things when paired together. But it is a physical appreciation for knowing something that wasn't said, nor will be said, that matters a great deal.

They have full conversations in silence. they have amorous exchanges about travel and lovemaking, about needs and wants, about bad days and how better days are on the way.

Then something needs to be said and they say that something. But even as they speak they know that these silent intervals are more carefully chosen than even the most special choice in words.

They leave. And you will never see them again. Sometimes you'll feel sorry, and sometimes you get annoyed at yourself for seeing something you don't understand and maybe its complicated and you wish they'd just come out with it! And sometimes they do and in that case they lose it. They lose the quiet gestures and the hand flutters and the butterflies and the way they look when they look at you and the purity of the silence. so you keep the silence. because its more precise and more gentle than any flirtation.
Most times all you have to do is run very very silently and grasp that person and shake them and say nothing and then just hold them and they will know. You should try this in a library, or in a very old museum. These are good places to practice because when you cant create the silence on your own, its helpful to allow someone to create it for you.

With love and a short hum,
JP and Camille

ONC Mag. Update!

Hello Hello 'Ello!!

So here are the updated submission dates for ONC Mag: I.N. - International Newsletter for Artists and their like.

Submission due date for Art and Writing is March 6th!!!!!!!!

The first issue will be out on April 6th so get your stuff in QUICK!
Release party will be announced shortly.

For submissions or more info contact ohnocamille@gmail.com