The Following are thumbnails of curated shows and events by Project FOCUS: 

Project FOCUS is a 501(c)3 non profit organization aspiring to create positive, sustainable change in Lyantonde, Uganda and in the United States through community building, arts based projects, and responsible international development. Our goal is to create long term relationships with the communities we work in, while addressing both the psycho social and survival needs of the individuals in those communities. 

At Project FOCUS, our decisions and work are guided by the following three principles: Educate, Inspire and Empower. We believe that every individual has a story to tell. By empowering youth to share their stories through various artistic mediums, we hope to give a voice to their unique experiences, while educating and inspiring our audiences. 

Educate. Once the stories are captured by different art forms, Project FOCUS creates a visual and auditory exhibit with the goal of educating the audience. If the audience is able to gain a true sense of the artists’ experiences through their work, it becomes possible for the viewer to relate to an abstract social issue on an intimate level, bridging the gap between two seemingly different worlds. 

Inspire. Once this personal connection is established, it is the hope of Project FOCUS that the individuals are inspired to respond; to be a driving force in bringing about positive social changes both locally and globally, whether they contribute to the work of Project FOCUS or are inspired and empowered to develop their own projects to address community issues. 

Empower. The desired outcome of this long-term process is to promote sustainable development by focusing on the needs, desires, and hopes of local communities as conveyed by the artists.

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e-mail :: tims.mary@gmail.com

Click here to view the presentation:: [ The Vertical Edge ]

Paris 2006: Manifesto for Inhabitation

This project explores the dichotomy beyond the socio-political battleground of the Peripherique.

My intention was more than accumulating program to provide for an increasing population, but to remove myself as a dictator of living and provide a skeletal matrix that affords an infinite amount of unexplored modes of inhabitation that I find far more interesting as an instrument for acquiring demographic projections along the edge of the peripherique. As brutal as it is, it is actually feasible as a technique of inhabiting space. The verticality expresses the thin, hardcore modernist argument while exploiting the edge and rejecting composition.

The Narcissist’s Retort

written by Mary Jean Tims, c. 2007

Los Angeles is a reinvention of an invention already taking place in another time and another face, colliding at intersections blending textures, primary colors, creating a place in the reflection of all others, streaming in the consciousness of an automobile, soaking up the sunshine and the exhaust of petroleum, linoleum flooring and mass production, sprawled out and still too close, touching while traveling at 85 miles per hour, glaring under the mist of the street lights at night and the coyotes that walk the city more often then people, the backyards full of unused green, and front yards full of gasoline, a narcissistic flight from realism, defamiliarize, decontextualize, while posing in front of a gigantic mirror the length of Wilshire Boulevard, hoping to overturn, unveil, its ordinary and new, its fluid foundation with voyeuristic eyes that gaze from the hills of Hollywood down on the highways and flyways that are filled with battling engines, waiting for the rain, the quakes of the earth, the landslides, the tidal waves and splitting of the continent, and the movie stars giving birth, to get it all on film for the new release, peace, peace, piece of the action, attraction, detached and cliché, you can have some or not, televisions in every room one for each eye, as the 1940′s and 50’s birthed the paths of the automobile and 1973 was when we finally understood that the commodity is not paying the bills and there are places we don’t go when we travel, because the city had been divided and displaced for a new work in progress, on a grid in a square that shoved itself into oblong indistinguishable geometric patterns of geographical unpredictability; going once, going twice, sold to the highest bidder, hell bent on reinvention of the American Dream that ignored all the advice and now there are sad clowns under the tent of compliance, so it is time to temporarily redefine commuters, computers, actors, waiters, hostesses, busboys, White boys with popped collars and Latin boys in cowboy hats, Korean grandmothers rolling joints while waiting for the signal on the commuter roads and the actor in his Hummer and the French waiter for some water and the Black hostess with that savvy stare, busboys on the stairs that turn outward from the thresholds of urbanity as eternity gains momentum in this one room on this one block in this one city in the nowhere of this one county that is larger than all of them will ever know even while they are sleeping, and 1992 was a nightmare in most minds when social unrest found its way through the streets of Los Angeles and postmodernism flourished as the marginal lifted themselves from the flatlands with fists full of poverty, oppression, intolerance and rage and the White Man fell to his knees, but it isn’t over yet, so we challenge what is different, question what is juxtaposed: male, female, heterosexual, homosexual, mother, father, pedagogy, theology, fear, happiness, consciousness, self, material, form, sensuality, choice, birthright, White, Black, backstreets, super highway, and once all this gets sorted out we will have to restructure the dream, make new what has made wrong, retell history from a place left behind and line the streets with wisdom that buried itself deep within lactating cries muffled by the voices behind the bowties, and the words we use aren’t really the appropriate words to define who we are, because there is a television that sits in every eye projecting a person into the mirror on Wilshire Boulevard that is distorted, obscured, and full of lies, an aesthetic phenomenon formulated beyond compromise, and petroleum is filling up the L.A. River while starvation sets in, but it is time to jump on a concrete people-mover for over an hour to another face, another place where brake lights glimmer in the smog and the angst settles on the foreheads of pilots gone mad while snickering to a radio show that doesn’t know it is snowing out here and the cars are sliding off the edges because they forgot their chains, it is just another day in L.A., sun blazing purple and pink chlorofluorocarbons like back fire or misfire a consciousness worn thin in a metropolis so bare that it has no place for the people, no walking, just parking, parking, parking, meters, valets, tow away, intersection before interjection, what is it going to be, you, me, we, take the time this time, because our patience is much worn, free, stolen, bought, plagiarized, familiarized, discovered, lost, thrown over a threshold in a white gown, wilted under a mothers frown…identity, we have only just begun and it is already nearing the finish line, times up, time is lost, time and time again, no time to lose, take the time, one more hour until the sun folds the sky into dark and pulls the sheets off the moon, over a county, over a city, over a nowhere, in a room full of you, me, we.

 “It amounts to this: just as for the ancients there was an absolute vertical with reference to which the oblique was defined, so there is an absolute human type, the masculine. Woman has ovaries, a uterus; these peculiarities imprison her in her subjectivity, circumscribe her within the limits of her own nature…He thinks of his body as a direct and normal connection with the world, which he believes he apprehends objectively, whereas he regards the body of woman as a hindrance, a prison, weighed down by everything peculiar to it. ‘The female is a female by virtue of a certain lack of qualities,’ said Aristotle; ‘we should regard the female nature as afflicted with a natural defectiveness.’ And St. Thomas for his part pronounced woman to be an imperfect man’, an ‘incidental’ being. This is symbolized in Genesis where Eve is depicted as made from what Bossuet call ‘a supernumerary bone’ of Adam. Thus humanity is male and man defines woman not in herself but as relative to him; she is not regarded as an autonomous being… she is simply what man decrees; thus she is called ‘the sex’, which is meant that she appears essentially to the male as a sexual being. For him she is sex – absolute sex, no less. She is defined and differentiated with reference to man and not he with reference to her; she is the incidental, the inessential as opposed to the essential. He is the Subject, he is the Absolute – she is the Other.”

-Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

Duality lies within the reciprocity of subject and object, derived from the implication that woman is without consciousness or ego.

This concept is predicated upon the patriarchal influence of 20th Century America on female narcissism and references the threshold between reality and perceived reality, façade and structure, psychological and physical occupation of the void.       

The act of overlaying micro upon macro as an exploration of scale and context perpetuates a programmatic discourse. The body is dismantled as a locus of mutualism and reassembles as a discontinuous series of gestures and poses.        

This work is inconceivable outside of the feminist movement and the complex socio-political paradigms that surround architectural theory and practice.

Moving from conventional gender implications of signification and semiotic effects to an unrestricted definition of polemic proportions, the construction of sexuality and architecture formulates a transformative system.  

The mission is to erode the impassivity engendered by the imposition of social norms and superimpose a feminist retort on the structures of patriarchy by implying that feminism embodies scale in proportion to architecture. It is intended to evoke the subconscious, transcend the monotonous, and empower the void. At its foundation, it envelops a montage of social commentary and political agitation.  

Click here to view:   

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