Kelly Puleio Photography

2009-06-19T08:40:00.007-04:00

"the idea of arriving somewhere we might forever more call our home is an illusion"

"its seems almost that exile (in the sense of intentional abandonment by one's own choice or an actual space of exile beyond all affiliations) brings alive an inner calling to retrace the thousands of steps, which we intuit as living in our cells, as dancing through our memory in unfathomably shifting, deceptive images."

we have to retrace our last 1000 steps to find where we should have been all along. the roots in which we grow have never stemmed from a sense of security. but in fact this idea of "aerial exile".

the "I" then becomes singular again...leaving our traceable steps visible.

.the space.

2009-06-10T03:35:00.005-04:00

the stairs

the morning bed.

the dinner

the kitchen window

the boxes

woodie: i love your requests.... thanks!

2009-06-05T06:18:00.017-04:00

a book i am working on.. here is a very very small part....

these are some layouts and photos... it is a small book. 4.5x4.5

the images are open as if the book were spread out. so think front and back... and double pages...

the cover
back front

some possible layouts...

also, there are marker notes hand written on the pages,of edits i wanted to do... that will stay,without the edit... it kind looks like this.. but better : )

fictional pretenses

2009-05-28T09:07:00.010-04:00

its the memory of morning whispers and moonlight chandeliers
it is how she wished love remembered her
it is what she wants to see in the reflection of their eyes
it is the fine line between reality and fantasy
time escaping us
becoming us.
a vague recognition through the grain and dust
becoming us.
as real as summer snow
so quickly turning into the end of our wardrobe
willingly into Narnia.
a game we play as children
yielding to our past as if we had a choice
this is the moment our legs slip
and desire became fragments of our bodies
flashing through our minds like broken film strips in old theatres.
intimate moments fade further with each passing glance
and soon become unrecognizable.

invited...

2009-05-28T06:17:00.012-04:00

i was asked to shoot this play... working with deaf youth.. it was incredible. i never really considered sign language in german...feeling yet another degree of separation from the verbal form of language...forcing the collaboration of the mind and communication though art... amazing.
1..

23.

66

31

44

64

83

57

76

88

68

the cast

missing it...

2009-05-20T15:43:00.008-04:00

today it came from the mid-west he said... Chicago perhaps

last night it came from the rain, under the awning, inside my glass of wine, written on my blank pages, it came from France, actually it was whispered in my ear, from the breath of a mouth that spoke french with love... and in the morning it came from my heart as it danced across my skin, trickling in from my chipping white pained window...

and walking home this evening, it came from the park i sat in, the cafe i sipped from, the sidewalk i fled from, the train i missed, the mouth i wanted to kiss, the lonely street i wandered, and corner i smoked on, the doorway i stood in before i climbed my mountain home. and sitting here now, the same white window welcomes the skin of lovers its kisses, and oceans that carried it, the hands it held, eyes it missed, the doors it closed, the cracks that welcomed it, and the arms that needed it.

i close my eyes, and think of you, and hope the same breeze that expands my lungs with the deepest of breaths and fills my imagination with the wildest stories...came from your skin, from your window, from you.

body art conjunction

2009-05-18T13:51:00.020-04:00

i have been trying to make this blog for a while now, and really don't know how i want to present this work.. so i will preface this, as it is a beginning to a project i am currently working on called "stitching" it will be a part of a book project... as well as, hopefully, hung on gallery walls when i return... once i have this project a bit more thought out with words i will elaborate (mostly for you wood, cause you are the only one who follows this anyway, and i tell T everything before i even think it, so this really should be titled the Woody project! love you.

so comments are very welcome...

Abhorchen...

die muse...

verführen...

vergewaltigen...

entkommen

verlassen

Beenden

stimulate stitching

2009-05-14T16:25:00.006-04:00

hearts on broken doors. to hallways with plastic frames.out windows with fabric flowers. over looking courtyards keeping dismantled bikes.

and through the glass clear as day...

because woodie told me so..

2009-05-10T16:27:00.023-04:00

10 reasons why i don't miss the united states of america...

1.the EIS is AMAZING, and it makes me happy!

2.you can drink... yup, anywhere....even on the public transportation without the brown bag.

3.you can roll down hill, just about anywhere, if you have the brilliant idea to.

4.where can you find scenery like this?

5. can you go to a club with a giant portrait of a woman and her legs spread wide open on the wall.

which leads me to this...

6. where else can you find a beautiful woman... in an incredible bier garden holding brotworst and bubbly Berliner beer (yes, beer on a sunny afternoon, in the right company,in the right country i am learning is not so bad)

7. find bars that are covered floor to ceiling with pink fuzzy carpet...and i mean floor to ceiling...

8.Sleep in beds like this...

and crawl in bars like that....

9. where else can you turn yourself into statues...

10.. and most importantly have the time of your life... with people like this...

alright... with these reasons aside... i am ready to move to Europe.. back your bags baby and grab the pup!

Number one reason that makes me sad in berlin...

1. having to say good bye... hungover as SHIT!

a must have...

2009-04-24T00:52:00.001-04:00

The Disco Handbook The Disco Handbook kwaatlu The Disco Handbook by Bruce Pollack. A vintage manual to the 1970's dance craze. Essential to any collection of books about disco. Chapter 8 illustrations by Mad Magazine legend Sam Viviano.

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Books music vintage

pretty little tree

2009-04-20T15:51:00.001-04:00

pretty little tree.

Jüdische Museum Berlin

2009-04-20T14:07:00.000-04:00

finally, a day away from my bed...

the building was INCREDIBLE:

and Wa La:

the wall...still

and still...

now we go inside...

the memory void...

The Holocaust Tower

Deadly Medicine: a special exhibition
Operation T4
the hospital

one of the 8 photographed to represent the 50,000 mentally ill and "feeble minded" that were killed

the killing centers... which eventually turned into concentration camps, but these were for the children and mentally disabled.they were transported to another location from the mental hospitals... a very similar fashion... to the gas chambers, or lethal injections or sterilization that went wrong, or the "overdose" and then to the crematorium with the black smoke chimney... all procedures done by doctors and university professors.

the missing jewish population in neighborhoods where it once thrived now evacuated...

death count. pre-Holocaust at the killing centers

the permanent collection:

(i just like girls really)

and old news papers... a lot a lot!

the writing on the wall...

a memory void... the void in the building.. where art once stained the walls are now scrubbed away with the pealing paint...

what it should have said still...

a moment in the sun...a reprieve if you will...

a crack in the black and white...i saw color!

and still i have not gotten my indo soup... it was closed after i slept in the park for an hour waiting for it to open... i swear this soup better be worth the time i have spent waiting for it...

feels good to be walking in fresh air again...

postage stamps

2009-04-20T04:33:00.001-04:00

i was sick. i wanted INDO soup. i gather up the strength to leave the house. get on a train. TUK TUK (the Indonesian restaurant i was going to) dangled the sign "closed" in my face, as if it were laughing at me that i didn't check to see if they served lunch. i was exhausted. i found this park. where i laid in the grass to plan how i was going to try and find food my stomach could handle.

A few hours later i woke up.(this is where i woke up)

this was in front of me

it was a beautiful nap.. the sun was so warm and the breeze had to have come from greek islands somewhere, in and out of the windows of villas where families were cooking dinner and wine... sorry i am out of control.. haha.. moving on... (i have a mild obsession with breezes) anyway it was a fabulous little nap...the rest of the day however was short lived...

i found this postage stamp and wished i was on the inside of a package being shipped anywhere but where i was, far from home, from a bed,from from a familiar face and warm hug... far. really really far.and tired. and starving. maybe being shipped to a time when i could eat!

thankfully, i am feeling much better. looking forward to eating the surprise package my brother sent me with an equally beautiful postage stamp

... in a few days im hoping...

picture it, berlin 2009

2009-04-18T09:25:00.001-04:00

Picture it, berlin 2009. a young woman. sick, dehydrated, alone stumbles into a hospital seeking medical attention. she asked the receptionist how she was doing, and she stares at her stuttering... i..i...i.... I haven't been asked how i am in over 2 years, she didn't know how to answer the young woman, she smiled and repeated herself, the receptionist smiled and still didn't know how to respond.

she sat in the waiting room beside an older man. she felt for him, his blistered withered skin and tired eyes, thinking, wow he must be really ill and no family with him. he then pulls out a rather large bottle of spirits and began to chug right from the bottle, for minutes so it seems... in the middle of the waiting room of the damn hospital, she thought to herself...well there's that... and then she thought, shit if only i could get down a damn kit kat, i would have probably ask for a sip too...

she's called in. a ripe young doctor, arrogant little prick actually. makes a right into room 11, lucky she thought... or SO she thought. his English broken, her German, well never mind that. he knocks around...presses and prods tells her he is going to need to take blood and give her a transfusion. she says, excuse me? Was ist das? he says, ah.ah. put water in your veins. well that's sounds appealing, she says no thank you. cause obviously she knows better then he does.

the nurse enters, sticks the needle...takes from this girls insides what she needed. and leaves the needle in. the woman asks... aren't you going to take that out? her and the other doctor have a good laugh motioning something about when she gets home... they leave the room, the same room that begins to spin around the girls head until the next thing she knows she is being lifted off the floor by 3 doctors with her legs above her head and IV drip beginning to pump cold through her veins. She asks who are you? where am i? what am i doing here? completely disorientated, she lays on the hard old iron table which has the appearance that the hospital was built around this damn thing and waits to understand what had just happened.

Laying there she began to cry... and then.. in midst began to laugh, harder and harder, hysterically actually. the doctors looked at this strange American girl.. i mean she just fainted and is laughing, hysterically... she thought to herself, are you serious? second week in Germany, she is sick in bed for a week...and i mean fucking sick. then in the hospital were she faints,and injuries herself pretty badly from the fall from the hospital bed to the cement floor, but then successfully makes it though her first IV, in another country, alone. i mean... this is pretty funny.

a few hours later they give her some papers some pills and send her on her way.

A busted knee, an injured neck and upper back, a stomach that apparent has a severe inner infection of some kind that will hopefully work itself out in 3 to 5 days and if not she is back to the hospital and a pink slip. she hobbled to a cab... but thankfully just in time to make it to the main street to sit and pay the cab driver to watch the German Ice Hockey Parade march through town before being able to crawl back into bed. i mean, whats a trip to the hospital with out a little parade!

well needless to say, my adventures do not stop even when extremely ill!
bitte schön

20 days...

2009-04-15T05:35:00.000-04:00

i miss after 20days

washing machines i understand
dryers period (apparently there is a shortage)
english
a warm hug
the space beside me taken
a familiar face
smoothies
rainy days
a bed with sheets in a frame off the floor :)
my health
breakfast that doesnt include a pastry
eggs i am not afraid to eat (thanks food poisoning)
english
understanding how to pick up a package when i receive a little blue slip in my box
(ok honestly thats kinda fun, its like a scavenger hunt, having to put together the clues to get a surprise at the end... FUN! thanks T, well hopefully it is from you!)
did i mention my friends and America?

ok for things i love about this city...

the light
every time i leave my door it is an adventure i cant wait to go on.
my endless opportunities
learning and appreciating what i am capable of
eagerly awaiting surprise visits!!!
the cafes
the quiet time reading
the glass of wine at a random bar
the complete lack of control i have, invigorating.
i am sure when i return i will have a list of things i miss about berlin, just currently i am too busy experiencing them to miss them just yet.. so i guess that in itself is something to miss... experiencing this everyday.

2 cappuccinos and a lot of wine later....

2009-04-11T15:51:00.000-04:00

preface: i am a cheap date and my tolerance for alcohol has dropped severely in 17 days.. yay no more alcoholism. : ) as i sit here and drink a bottle of wine... haha i will tell you of my day!

so i set off to go to a coffee tasting on this beautiful Saturday, which turned out to be a man.a large old fashion oven on the side walk. and well, i was a little intimidated to ask for any coffee...so i seek out a little coffee tasting of my own.

i find the cutest cafe, as you do, on yet another cobble stone street, and what i love about them is they dont produce a historical fiction like trying to preserve history, they merely serve a purpose.. it is a street. made of linking stone... i like. another Christmas morning surprise for breakfast, the only thing im sure about is a cappuccino. it was delicious. my caffeine intake has gone from a soy mocha at home to a latte with sugar.. to a cappuccino with sugar, and currently.. a capp.. soon it will be a mainline from espresso machine to my veins.. at least its not beer and i am not rolling my own cigarettes...yet.

i am completely obsessed with the grocery stores here. and go into every single one that i see. and could spend hours in them. it is kinda becoming a problem. they are starting to stare, maybe it is because i am taking pictures of meet and cheese, who knows.

the meat

the cheese, oh god the cheese!!!

come on look at all the meet and cheese!!! its beautiful! and the little tiny jars are, "marmalade" or so they say. all i know is it is DAMN GOOD!!!

i met a man today. he was an artist. he spoke no English, and i fell in love with his paintings.
we used a common language though eyes and hands and art. he told me stories about what his work was about in another language, and i understood. strangely enough. we smoked and drank wine. (second thought, maybe thats why i understood him, i was drunk!) the piece i wanted was more then i could afford. he handed me a pen and asked me to write what i could afford. i emptied my pockets and he handed me the piece of art.(second thought, so was he!) :) he said in English, one artist to another. one hand to another. it was the first piece of art i bought for myself. and i fucking love it.

I didn’t pull out my map once today. I chose a direction and had no clue where it would lead. Basically I saw lots of people and went in that direction. Until finally I saw lesbians.. and then gay men, oh my! Life was good.. Friedrichshain is my new favorite neighborhood. which leads me to the end of my day. Lost! Happily. So I found yet again they cutest café drank wine.but this time with a map. and My new piece of art occupying the seat beside me.

i have decided to smile at everyone even though all i receive in return are glares... except today, an older man stopped and in German, or coarse, said something that sounded like, (it is possible i might kill you if you keep smiling at strangers) i was a little frightened.. he put out his hand and shook mine. and smiled back. even though our language divides us like the biggest of oceans, a simple hand gesture carried me safely into his palm. baby steps to breaking this cold german shell.

its easter tomorrow. in preparation i boiled eggs, but they do not sell egg dye in the foreign country! bastards. so i will have to be creative.. im sure photos will follow.

ps.

the story of a clementine

2009-04-09T07:56:00.000-04:00

the clementines i bought yesterday were brilliant in color and firm. thinking, they aren't ripe yet.
i bought them anyway.
they were 2,99 euros i thought a steal.
i hurt my thumb trying to peal it when i got home, but i couldn't wait.
i cut it open with a knife.
the juice was dripping down my fingers and hands stinging the cuts from a nervous habit i'm trying to quit
it was the most delicious clementine i have ever eaten, or so it felt. maybe too because of all the hard work.

I had another before i went to bed.
i used my middle finger to peel it
it come off in bits
FRUSTRATING but still delicious.

with my morning coffee i gave it another go. i felt each of them for the softest.
i used a knife to carefully peel away the skin.
smooth. wonderful i thought!

I gently tried to peel away the little pieces of delicious
but they clung to each other like lovers at the departing gate of airports, or so i thought.
i ate two at a time.
beneath my fingertips are stained a florescent orange.
i thought of you.

Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp

2009-04-06T20:17:00.000-04:00

the street
a gate

a house

the house
the gate

the barracks
the remains

the toilet

the bath
the wall

the etchings in the walls
counting days and leaving names...hoping to be remembered
more then what was seen

the gas chamber from the inside

and the outside

the found remembering the lost

leaving

the prison as if they need a defined building for it.
the reflections they saw.

everything beyond