
I believe nothing folds easily,
but that time will crease—
retrain the mind.
…
What I Believe, Kimberly Blaeser
Miami, Florida

I believe nothing folds easily,
but that time will crease—
retrain the mind.
…
What I Believe, Kimberly Blaeser

A group exhibition, organized by Kristen Thiele, for Bride Red. September 27th – November 1st, 2026
Bridge Red Studios/Project Space, 12425 NE 13th Ave #3, North Miami, FL 33161.



In 2009,
COUPLING
Trisha Brookbank / Brian Burkhardt
Robert Chambers / Mette Tommerup
Carlos de Villasante / Rebecca Guarda
Guerra de la Paz
Kathleen Hudspeth / Adler Guerrier
Alvaro Ilizarbe / Jen Stark
Mary Malm / Kerry Ware
Winston McCarthy / Addison Walz
Beatriz Monteavaro / Gavin Perry
Leyden Rodriguez-Casanova / Frances Trombly
Claudia Scalise / Brian Reedy
February 14, 2009
Buena Vista Building
First Floor
180 NE 39th St.
MIAMI DESIGN DISTRICT
ON VIEW FEB 14 – FEB 21

Beatriz Monteavaro, Tonight, We Can Be As One Tonight.
Under the Bridge.
12425 NE 13th Ave, North Miami, 33161.


The kinds of proximity that matter here are made by practices of attention not defined by dissensus or agonism but technically, by atmosphere-generating juxtaposition. This proximity dilutes what we called structural by shifting the force of the normative infrastructures from the state and commodity capitalism into the ordinary that also includes local plural intimacies and the associations that make life sticky and interesting.
Berlant

Solvent transfer, graphite, colored pencil, ink, gouache, acrylic, and enamel paint on paper. 18 x 12 inches. 2026. Donated to Locust Projects’ Art Auction.
Melvin Edwards’s obituary. (Frieze)
“His travels to Ghana, Nigeria, Togo and Benin informed his understanding of sculpture as a form of cultural continuity, leading him to create public works that fused African traditions with contemporary abstraction?. “


Through the young and awkward hours
my lady perfectly moving,
through the new world scarce astir
my fragile lady wandering
in whose perishable poise
is the mystery of Spring
(with her beauty more than snow
dexterous and fugitive
my very frail lady drifting
distinctly, moving like a myth
in the uncertain morning, with
April feet like sudden flowers

Good-bye!—no, do not grieve that it is over,
The perfect hour;
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover,
Flits from the flower.
Grieve not—it is the law. Love will be flying—
Yes, love and all.
Glad was the living—blessed be the dying.
Let the leaves fall.
A Farewell, Harriet Monroe