paper, wire, eggshells, works in progressSomething i've been working on these past couple of weeks.i want to make wings out of you.John thinks these look like sperms.Thinking of breath, letting go, keeping steady.
© mien wong
works in progress
Beautiful and tender poetry
I swear - everything you come up with is more beautiful than the last. You took my breath away, once again.
These are thoughtful and just lovely! Love your inventive work!
Channeling my 2yo Jasper here..."More, more, MOOORRREE!!" These are so beautiful and delicate and I can't get enough of them :-)
as said before,poetry might be the right word for your art!
thank you all for such immediate warm response! such a wonderful surprise for me this morning to see each one of you here. the eggshells are happy too. :)).
recogiendo las alas...bello. muy bello.
i immediately jumped to your blog when i saw news on flickr :)I love these new spoons and indeed tender,fragile(i saw your work is always fragile..love that)and the way you photgraphed those spoons...it's poetry.I was amazed by the eggshell..i couldn't recognize that ;)
Oh Mien, these are so beautiful, mysterious, delicate. I held my breath when I found you had posted again. Looking at your first pic I thought of wings right away - these spoons could scoop air. And interesting how the egg-shells hold on to their eggness and become something completely different - gaping mouths, or fledlings beaks, strange blooms. Mien's magic! My heart beats faster.
Oh so happy to see your new piece of artwork!!! So worth waiting for it ! Those pieces are stunning. And the way you photographed them too.Eggshells : so springy !Thank you for sharing those beautiful "spoon".
I like them a lot..no matter what they remind of...they are so delicate and beautiful...and looks so fragile like eggshells...excellent made...:O)
How dare he think these look like sperms :O no comment :D
these spoons are pure beauty, beauty in a unique and special sense. i admire your work! julia
These are magic Mien. The bit of yolk in the bottom of them makes their emptiness so sharp. Fragile longing and air light.
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They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. I dont know what them eyes was the windows to and I guess I'd as soon not know. But there is another view of the world out there and other eyes to see it and that's where this is goin.