Tag: Bliss of Bliss

  • Olena Jennings: THE MEMORY PROJECT

    Olena Jennings: THE MEMORY PROJECT

    In 2018, a New York City poet Olena Jennings created poetry based on her family’s stories, attempting to visualise photography with words. The poems that resemble photography, carry them as frameworks of memory. In Olena Jenning’s THE MEMORY PROJECT: The memory comes before the poem. The poem comes before the art.

    “I chose ink and paper for the poems. I chose fabric for the art. The poems are a small slice of time in which I experienced memories, many based on photographs in my grandparents’ photo album. I experienced the memories in 2018 and they were embellished by memories I was creating as I lived.” 

    The project was presented in various incarnations at Queens Farm, the Red Barn, and Bliss on Bliss Studio.

    POPPIES        Olena Jennings 

    Red and blue on the dresser,
    dust in the folds,
    stretching towards the dim lamp.
    Click of lipstick cap,
    spritz of perfume,
    snap of purse,
    and she will turn the light off.
    The flowers will wither
    into their dreams
    and I will put my lips
    into their centers,
    ready to blow away pollen.
    The yellow dust caught in my eyes,
    when I see for a moment
    from her perspective, I look out
    onto the yard. I see myself
    throwing a rubber ball into the flowers,
    crushing their petals,
    the place where I convinced
    my little brother there was a snake,
    there was something to fear.
    To make up for my deception,
    I gave him one of the plastic flowers,
    deceiving him again, pretending
    I bought it at the corner gas station
    from which we had collected all
    of our dishes with the points we got
    from pumping gas. I want to make up
    more than that now—absences
    when I would become like that yellow dust,
    a quiet star.

    Olena Jennings, Map Dress, installation view. Photo: Elvis Krajnak.

    PAPER MAPS        Olena Jennings

    Even flat maps have texture.
    They carry with them
    someone’s memory of the streets.
    I will walk near the water
    to draw the places off the map
    on the palm of my hand.

    We used to make paper
    out of recycled letters,
    rough, imperfect,
    for a moment – wet,
    on our knees
    ripping

    We mark our way to the castle
    with the handle of a shovel.
    We could live inside
    our fairytale, find our way
    despite the sand
    in our eyes.

    Poems and dresses by Olena Jennings. Photos of the dresses by Elvis Krajnak.

    https://www.olenajennings.com/