Post Canvas And Paint: Abstract 02 – The Dreaming Void
In a moment forged with the fluttering sounds of dreams in flight, I soon escaped my troubling fears….
The dreaming void
The true locus of creativity is not the genetic process prior to the work but the work itself as it lives in the experience of the beholder. – Monroe Beardsley
Post Canvas and Paint….
Post Canvas And Paint: Abstract 01 – The Setting Sun
I looked into the mirror of my thoughts as the setting sun slowly disappeared over the horizon….
The Setting Sun
Something about making art has to do with overcoming things, giving us a clear opportunity for doing things in ways we have always known we should do them. – David Bayles
Post Canvas and Paint….
Not The Kiss Your Mother Used To Give You (When She Wanted You To Leave The Room)
The city series….
Standing by the curb
So you think you’re a man….
You think you know what she is trying to tell you. Sitting by the curb with your new Trek bike. With your boys. Trying to be cool.
Looking cool … Being defiant.
Did you even listen? Is there any clue?
Baby Boy Blue
As to why she decided on … you?
Yeah I know, you think it’s because of the ball you play. Or the things you say. Just yesterday she gave you that look. When you helped her with her books. Were you listening then? When it was your hand she took. Yeah I know. It’s all about the tool of the trade. And not feeling like you’ve been made. Is it good to know? Keep the show? Or stay in the flow? Yeah, it’s a tough day and what a blow.
You sitting on the curb with your boys.
Being her toy.
But did you even know
That kiss….
Is not the kiss
Just for show….
I Really Want To Meet Your Sensitivity With Compassion And Love (A Hit The Mark Remix)
In a moment, my only desire is to meet your sensitivity with my thoughtfulness and longing….
Being centered with you
They tell me that love and compassion is a journey without measure….
Not unlike an arrow whose flight is true….
The Hidden Meaning Of Things Expressed In Silence
A peaceful and beautiful place expressed in silence….
Hidden stream on a cool and brisk day
All things, and man as well, should be like nature, without measure. – Hans Jean Arp
Nature is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom extinguished. – Sir Francis Bacon
Nature has been mastering itself for some time now, and it is an honor to be able to capture its beauty. – Justin Beckett
Everything Changes Except A Persistent Memory (A Think You Know Remix)
We often find ourselves on the boundaries of what we remember….
Everything changes except a persistent memory
Sometimes in a moment of realization, in a glimmer of mindfulness, we can see the totality of our lives: The days spent with dreams. The nights, restless—consumed with thought. The years forged with the desire to be something—perhaps anything other than who we are. And in the end, an uncertainty that begs the question; do all things change except a persistent memory?
Perhaps we really do not know ourselves at all, and in its place we find only a recurring memory to give us pause.
A fine line of demarcation of what is and what we imagine; who we are and what we might have become.
It is a fortress of endless cycles of memories and desires that seduce the very knowledge of who we are and the way we think.
We know that everything is in constant flux. Everything changes. Our lives change and the world around us as well.
It is a given.
Yet it feels like our memories, the persistent ones, never do….
Searching For Something That You Can’t Remember Forever
In a place not too far from memory are the dreams lost forever….
Searching for something lost
How do you know when something is lost? Is it when your memory escapes you? Or when you have forgotten where you have placed it? Is it only something you wish you had again. Or is it something only time can tell? Does it haunt you when you sleep? And bring rise to a restless night. Can it be something that follows you throughout the day? Edging you here, taking you where it may.
And when you look in the mirror can you see what is lost?
… In the ocean and forest of your mind.
And when you swim, do you swim alone?
Adrift?
Wishing for someone to teach you again, the things you used to own….
What If Your Creativity Was Gone
In the struggle to know ourselves we sometimes turn inward to find our creativity … Gone
The inspiration for creativity resides within and beyond….
I recently re-blogged the post by Maggie Madly Writing wherein she proposed the question, “if nobody read your blog, would you still write”? There were some interesting responses on both our blogs. As a result, I started to think about the process of creativity. And the question, what if your creativity was gone? And has there ever been a time when you did not create? How long did that creative drought exist? What was the reason for the dry spell, if any?
Over the years I have known many artists. Each having their own unique work ethic. Some artists work continuously, on a daily basis. Others like myself, work when inspired, or influenced by events in their lives. I often look for a balance of art, life and sport. The majority of my artistic influence comes from my life experience. Most notably in the past when I was going through some rather dark periods. It seemed the darker the period, the more expressive the art. But I’ve learned that is not always true. Gone are the most darkest moments of my life (so I hope). Replaced by a more connected experience with peace and beauty. Creating a different kind of art. A different source of creativity. In the past, I have felt a sense of lost when not creating. Although I’ve always believed it would return. Knowing that it is a part of me.
What to do if your creative spark is gone? Well hang in there and have faith in your ability. This is a good starting point. Then work. Work. Spend time with the process. Explore and experiment with ideas. Take the time to check out the work of other artists. Artists from various disciplines. I love to see dance, theater and plays. Music exploration also is a motivating factor. As well as spending time with nature.
Never give up.
We all have our own path to discover that which ignites the creative spirit….
Reblogged from Maggie Madly Writing: If Nobody Read Your Blog
Great post Maggie. I have always appreciated your posts. They are full of inspiring and positive insight. I am in my second year of blogging. And I began for the purpose of having an outlet for my visual art and to promote it. But what has occurred is that I have found myself producing more art and on a regular basis. This process of blogging has given me a vehicle for daily creativity and peer response. In its own way it is a much greater vehicle for reaching out than the occasional art exhibit. But it does lack the human contact that an art opening provides. But then who travels from the UK or India to see one of my exhibits 🙂 Lately I have seeing my stats go up. Putting some pressure on trying to maintain that rise. But I am slowly letting that go. I have other interests … far from the computer. Like biking. So I realize, I can only do so much, and to the rest be content to share what I can. This is a thoughtful post you have given us here Maggie. I hope you do not mind if I re-blog it on my blog for others to ponder as well.
…would you still blog anyway?
That’s a question I’ve pondered, and for me, the answer to that question is yes. I would still blog, even if I was the only person who read it. When I started this blog, I never expected for it to get followers and people who regularly comment. I initially started it for myself, but apparently others wanted to read my ramblings about writing and whatever else.
So if everybody stopped reading my blog, I’d still keep writing entries. If my follower count gradually dropped to zero, if comments got fewer and farther between, and if my pageviews dwindled to nothing, I’d still write. The content would change, I think. I’d probably end up writing more rants and raves about my personal life than anything else. Sure, I’d still write about writing, but when given the opportunity, I can be quite self-centered (and that is something…
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Music For Looking Back: Flashing Lights Have Ended Now – Foxes In Fiction
Take a look at old photographs and remember the echoes of….
Foxes In Fiction
http://youtu.be/1ihAE-lDCqU – Flashing Lights Have Ended Now by Foxes In Fiction
Foxes In Fiction
The other evening I was downloading some electronic, ambient and IDM music to burn onto a CD. I usually listen to Fluid Radio on Itunes for the best of Experimental Frequencies, Drone, glitch, Neo-Classical, Computer and Abstract recordings. I had come across Foxes In Fiction several times, and noted them on my to buy list. They are a mixed bag of sorts i.e. they construct both ambient and pop music. I really connected with this tune “Flashing Lights Have Ended Now”, because of its steady beat, heavy reverb, echo, and dreamlike guitar/lyrics. It seemed to inhabit the small garage, small club feeling, I knew so well. A retro cool. A journey back to comic books. High school basement Jams. Robert Fripp and his Frippertronics concert at the University of Pennsylvania circa 1984. Downtown Philly. Emerald City. L7 in NYC. An early morning dive after partying all night … discovering the descent … and the feeling of looking through some old photographs … alone.
Music For Parks And City Streets (A Day Like No Other Remix)
The city series….
Sitting by the river, standing on the corner, music for parks and city streets
The moments we find time standing still…
Music is energy …
It captures the imagination and sets the soul on fire. It frees our thoughts and liberates our dreams. It illuminates the night stars and sets the day in motion.
Music is lucid …
We dream to music. We create to music. We make love to music. It touches and caresses. It embraces our intimate space.
Music is you and I …
It gathers the crowd on a beautiful day. It sings the songs our hearts have found. It teaches and consoles. It soothes our spirit at birth and death.
Music is humanity … restored.
For you and I it was a day like no other as we walked together … dreaming and listening….
In celebration of a summer day to come. A picnic with the band The Januaries and their song Chocolate and Strawberries…
Weekly Movie-Making Moments In Film: Berlin Alexanderplatz by Rainer Werner Fassbinder
A scene from Berlin Alexanderplatz
It is 2012, and thanks to the Criterion Collection and NetFlix I am able this weekend to once again view the epic masterpiece Berlin Alexanderplatz by Director Rainer Werner Fassbinder. In the 1980’s Philadelphia’s PBS station WHYY aired the entire 16 hour film. I was totally amazed at the dark story of a man and his descent into a personal hell; as well as its historical portrayal of Germany in the pre-Nazi era. This is a disturbing film, yet beautiful and engrossing. It’s cinematography and storytelling captures the imagination with vivid realism.
Here is a short synopsis.
Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s controversial, fifteen-hour-plus Berlin Alexanderplatz, based on Alfred Döblin’s great modernist novel, was the crowning achievement of a prolific director who, at age thirty-four, had already made forty films. Fassbinder’s immersive epic, restored in 2006 and now available on DVD in this country for the first time, follows the hulking, childlike ex-convict Franz Biberkopf (Günter Lamprecht) as he attempts to “become an honest soul” amid the corrosive urban landscape of Weimar-era Germany. With equal parts cynicism and humanity, Fassbinder details a mammoth portrait of a common man struggling to survive in a viciously uncommon time.
The English trailer for the film Berlin Alexanderplatz
A short tribute to a modern Berlin Alexanderplatz
Gotye: Eyes Wide Open
Well I am enjoying my day discovering this really cool artist. So I thought I would pass on the delight. Visually intriguing and lyrically profound.
Thanks Daniel for the introduction
Eyes Wide Open.
Only After Seeing The Light Did I Ever Think More Of It
From across the room I saw what I knew to be true….
A Kind of Light that keeps breaking through
like a candle in time
the soft glow of knowing….
No Moment In Time We Can Ever Bring Back (A Really Gone Remix)
As our past fades away, is there a bridge or ferry that can take us where we want to go….
A flight of fancy a bridge and ferry
Trying to escape something that is little known….
Earlier today, I was reading a post that Conceptual Art re-blogged entitled “A Place Where My Thoughts Are Frozen Together” by the blogger Emily @ Making Bridges. I enjoyed the read and found much in which to reflect on. It was as I perceived it, a beautiful, personal, and in-depth look at the ambiguities of our life experience i.e. how we connect with ourselves, and how those experiences resonate and are influenced by the emotions that accompany them. As I read, this line really struck a chord with me… “I often find myself looking back on past experiences – painful and happy – wishing I could still feel the intensity of those emotions”.
I believe that all my life, I have been struggling with this as well. I keep seeing my memories. Feeling them. Finding them elusive yet obtrusive. Art as a solution, sometimes produces some release and some peace, as it transforms the related emotion into form, color, shape, and content. Each piece touching on the memories in a hope to find a cathartic release. But it seems that it all remains the same in the end. An internal struggle. An endless pursuit. Perhaps the process does bring me a small step closer to a sense of freedom or understanding. But to truly cross that bridge, or ferry across the depths of my mind, I can only wake each day, start anew, create another piece, with the hope of living a little closer to a more profound present moment.
In a moment we realize we can never go back….
We Are Here Together (A Caressing Your Hair Remix)
It is a beautiful day when my fingers caress your golden hair….
We are here together this beautiful day
like a field of golden strands…
illuminating
the days in which we stand
together
in a sea of diamonds
caressing
the thoughts you hold dear
together
without fear
oh what a lovely moment it is….
You Are There – I Am Here (Another Search The Sky Remix)
When the night sky folds into itself, and I breathe deeply it resonates of you….
The gravity that pulls us together
fragments of darkness
– never fall
into the warm depths of your love for me
and
there you are
– never doubting
the color and shape of my heart’s longing….
I Am Here – You Are There (A Search The Sky Remix)
When I think of you at night, something is shimming above….
The solar fields above
fragments of light
– shimmer
like the fire of your heart
and
here i am
– burning
in the sunburst of your love….
A Family Tradition … Cousins (A Family Photo Remix)
Bringing the past into the present and going forward into the future….
Richard Malcolm and Denise
Richard is my older cousin on my mother’s side. He is sort of the “elder” of cousins along with his sister Andrea. Richard is a veterinarian and forensic scientist. He is also an adventurer and a world traveler. Here he is pictured with his ex-wife Denise a RN charge nurse and his son Malcolm a fitness guru and trainer.
In this series, I find that the challenge visually is conveying an artistic expressive nuance while maintaining a recognizable portrait of the family. Each image in the series poses the challenge to this delicate balance. Some images such as group photos, I believe lend themselves to more abstract expression. While a photograph of two or three individuals, I believe will work better if I approach it from a more portraiture sensibility.
What do you think? As I progress through the series, I would love to have your opinion on what works best.
Peace Love and Light to all the Families of the World….
A Family Tradition … Portraits (A Family Photo Remix)
Bringing the past into the present and going forward into the future….
Donald, Miriam and Children
I am fortunate to have a large and loving family. The journey in which this series will take me can only be thought of as a joyous rite. Beautiful is the memory of all those who, as family, have shared this life experience with me. Growing up with each other, especially my cousins was quite an adventure. There were ups and downs, pranks and games. And we often spent Saturdays or Sundays together; going to the park, enjoying picnics, and coming together as a family every Thanksgiving. My cousin Miriam pictured here with her husband Donald and children is a special soul. She is loving, happy and generous. A nurse by trade. When my mother was dying of cancer, Miriam would come by virtually every morning and sit with her. Caring for my mother with empathy and a heart of gold, she demonstrated great compassion. It is without a doubt, that I owe a lot to my cousin Miriam. And it is without a doubt that I love her dearly.
Family is important. Often we are called to give support, love and guidance to our family members. We can only, with a smile in our hearts, reach down deep with a great sense of purpose and joy when called to do so.
Peace Love and Light to all the Families of the World….
As We Approached The Ferry A Different Kind Of Night
It was the dark of night and the silhouette of the ferry consumed me….
From the dock I looked out beyond the thoughts that anchored my dreams
a soft glow
on the sands below
this night
so
– different
I found myself again….
An Entire Life And I May Not Know Myself
Sometimes the next chapter is the same as the one before and the one before that….
land ferry sky and water
Leaving behind the shore of dreams, I often wake to a life lost at sea….
A life misunderstood.
I sometimes wonder if I really know myself at all. I try to grasp, as I look back across the sea, the meaning of what has gone before. What remains on the distant shore…
The beauty of my indecisiveness. The machinations of my decisions.
Haunt me.
Like the fear of being stranded on land as my dreams sail away. There they go I say. Another day and it all remains the same…
Not unlike the fleeing faces in the clouds above or the uneasy sinking in the waves below….
A Beautiful Time Gone, Is Like A Moment That Never Happened
Sometimes there is a beautiful journey just waiting to happen….
Searching for the ferry on the docks
A journey has its moments. A beginning, a middle, and an end. Sometimes it is a physical journey, but most often it is one of internal longing and desire. A journey of memories. It is a beginning where we once believed in something, someone or someplace. Then perhaps a middle, when while living in the present moment, we believed time stood still, and there was no tomorrow. Or perhaps a tomorrow we could come to love. And then there is the end. An ending. A final moment. Magic and lost, beauty and longing for what was. The memory of beautiful times gone, like the fleeing of dreams in the waking of a new day.
I often see things through the spectrum of my experiences, while questioning the meaning of it all. But desiring to have no grounded answer to mislead me.
Sometimes in our awareness the journey has long since come to an end….
Weekly Movie-Making Moments In Film – The Woman in the Dunes by Hiroshi Teshigahara and based on the novel by Kobe Abe
I have recently seen the wonderful Japanese film Suna no onna (Woman in the Dunes) 1964 by Director Hiroshi Teshigahara. It is an extraordinary film. Beautifully crafted. Surreal and mesmerizing. I highly recommend it. Below is a link to an analytical review and a link which contains the featured film. The film is available on Net Flix as well. The film is 2-hours and 27 minutes long. I have included a short synopsis of the film below.
http://youtu.be/P-2xec9Ebg0 – video essay by James Quandt – part 1 (please note, I was unable to find part 2 of the essay). Part 1 ends abruptly.
http://youtu.be/H-5fY8hZdTs – Feature Film
An entomologist, Jumpei Niki (played in the film by Eiji Okada), is on an expedition to collect insects which inhabit sand dunes. When he misses the last bus, villagers suggest he stay the night. They guide him down a rope ladder to a house in a sand quarry where a young widow (Kyoko Kishida) lives alone. She is employed by the villagers to dig sand for sale and to save the house from burial in the advancing sand.
When Jumpei tries to leave the next morning, he finds the ladder removed. The villagers inform him that he must help the widow in her endless task of digging sand. Jumpei initially tries to escape; upon failing he takes the widow captive but is forced to release her in order to receive water from the villagers.
Jumpei becomes the widow’s lover. However, he still desperately wants to leave. One morning, he escapes from the sand dune and starts running while being chased by the villagers. Jumpei is not familiar with the geography of the area and eventually gets trapped in some quicksand. The villagers free him from the quicksand and then return him back to the widow.
Eventually, Jumpei resigns himself to his fate. Through his persistent effort to trap a crow as a messenger, he discovers a way to draw water from the damp sand at night. He thus becomes absorbed in the task of perfecting his technology and adapts to his “trapped” life. The focus of the film shifts to the way in which the couple cope with the oppressiveness of their condition and the power of their physical attraction in spite of — or possibly because of — their situation.
At the end of the film Jumpei gets his chance to escape, but he chooses to prolong his stay in the dune. A report after seven years declaring him missing is then shown hanging from a wall, written by the police and signed by his mother Shino.
n e w d i g i t a l s c a p e s 