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What Grows Here? (part 2)

sacred skies s

“Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?”
–Yeats

Crown falls with
angels and stars, laughs,
becomes seeds–
now singing,
calling to earth’s children—Come!
Touch the sacred skies!

When I saw the quote from Day Sixteen of Jane Dougherty’s Month with Yeats, I was immediately reminded of a collage I had done for one of her poetry challenges from 2016.  I know the collage well because it is one of my favorites from all the work I’ve done.  I decided to do a poem and some artwork and then look back at the challenge and the poem I had written in response originally.

what grows here s

Interestingly, the original challenge from Jane consisted of the shadorma form, and that’s what I wrote today, as I’m participating in On the Interstice’s Shadorma November.  And it’s eerily similar to the poem I wrote today as well, and also works equally well with the Yeats quote.

What grows here?
the mystery of
opposites
combining
cells dividing reaching toward
the sky’s endless crown

I’m not going to speculate on the implications of it all…

sacred skies 2s

Here’s the original post, and a link also to Jane’s Poetry Challenge #17.

Also linking to dVerse open link night.

Beach I Ching 15

30 fire comp

#30  Li  Fire

Clarity–
illuminating
fire with fire–
transforming
intersections of endings–
beginning to rise

I was amazed to see that it’s been almost a year since my last Beach I Ching post.  I’ve been working on this one for awhile, though.  The symbol of fire has shown up a lot for me this year.  Li is a doubling of fire, reflecting its dual nature of creation and destruction.  This hexagram is also called Radiance, Clarity, Sun, Transformation–it has many manifestations.  The Chinese characters are also sometimes said to resemble a bird captured in a net.

firebird s

“Do not think at the moments when you see no light that there is no light at all.”
–Fritz Blok

“It is good to see what you have lost and mourn it, to let grief flow, like time.”
–Barrett

“Take what is important and let the rest go.”
–Karcher

Collage with painted bird, photo of objects collected on the beach, and another shadorma for Shadorma November.

You can see all the Beach I Ching posts here.

 

Intersections

birdlings in space s

Here are stars:
galaxied deceit,
time echoed
in jeweled
mirrors, images captured
perfect and untouched

Silver hands
with golden voices:
waves disguised
as dances,
unbeholden to any
partnering of song

Companions
chasing satellites:
unmingled,
unanchored,
held in light journeying far
from harbors unknown

Extreme star cluster bursts into life in new Hubble image

Credit: ESA/Hubble; NASA, ESA and the Hubble Heritage (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration

It’s draw-a-bird day once again, and since I haven’t drawn any birds recently, the birdlings are filling in.  Also I would say I’m killing several prompts with one stone, but no killing on this blog–birds, prompts, or otherwise.

birdlings in space 2s

The dVerse Hubble Space prompt (see photo above) fits in nicely with Jane Dougherty’s day 7 Yeats quote from ‘To the Rose Upon the Rood of Time’

‘…stars, grown old

In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,

Sing in their high and lonely melody.’

and I’ve managed 3 more shadorma verses for the along the interstice November shadorma challenge too.

Happy Draw-a-Bird day!  But every day is a good day for thinking about birds, the cosmos, or poetry.

 

Haunted

haunted 1s

No clear path exists–
I see only haunted mist–
footsteps disappear.

The silence harbors ghostlight–
landscape of omens and signs.

haunted 2s

Tanka for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge.  I did a drip painting on some very wet rice paper, which ended up causing a hole in the paper.  I had to put it on some watercolor paper to stabilize it and left it there to dry.  So I ended up with three variations.

haunted 3s

The top one is both layers together, the middle one is the rice paper alone (on black), and the bottom one is the watercolor paper with the color as it soaked through.

 

Evan and Luke

My cousin dressed in a lion suit holding up his new baby. Something about this photo just made me want to try to paint it.

I didn’t really get the slightly crazed look on his face but close enough. Happy to have painted this last night and today. Although life is crazy it always feels good to paint.

Edges

edges s

edges 4 magnetic

edges 2s

But how long is deep?
soon will always become when–
stone wind and rain light.

The earth follows, listening–
root and seed walking on air.

edges 3s

Suzanne at “On the Road” asked us to think about the concept of Wabi Sabi.  She quotes Andrew Juniper: ” Wabi-sabi is an intuitive appreciation of a transient beauty in the physical world that reflects the irreversible flow of life in the spiritual world.”, noting how important this idea is to writing haiku.

edges 4s

The art came from some work I was doing on wet rice paper that bled through;  I had put it on a piece of watercolor paper to keep it from tearing.  After it dried and I lifted it off, I found that the impression underneath made an interesting shape, and I added a bit more paint on top to intensify the color.

blur edges close up s

And then I went to see what the Oracle had to say about it all.

 

Self Portrait #21 (after Klee)

sp 21 comp

Water, and fire above it

How I say to you the truth as I know it.
How I am lost in words.
Subtle gradations implications explanations.

Do they reveal tenderness or terror?
Do they echo feeling or imagine it?

How to adjust memory.
How to maintain and reflect.
Erasing magnifying refining touching failing.

Safety features are not built in.
Evidence is not self.

To delete is to open.

 

I wanted to do a final self-portrait inspired by Paul Klee.  There are so many wonderful Klee works to choose from, but I chose this one because of its title:  “Seventeen, Insane”.  I didn’t put the geometrics in, instead choosing to try to replicate the feeling, with loose ink portraits of myself now and at 17.  I think the feeling of being unable to understand what’s going on is an apt one, and Klee seems to me to be indicating that age doesn’t really clarify things at all.  I agree.

17 insane close up s

For the poem, I took one from my early 20s and revised it, but only a bit.  Mostly I redid the way I had the lines set up; rather than breaking up each thought into several lines, I made it into a single one.  I eliminated two lines altogether and changed 3 or 4 words.  And then I broke it up into stanzas.  And yes, that’s my original title.  And yes, also, I wrote that last line in the early 1970s, before “delete” and “open” had the meanings they hold in this digitized world.  That’s pretty strange.

My notebooks from then contain notes from books I was reading (Otto Rank with this one–we were reading him in a class I was taking), and poems mixed together.  From what I could tell, I started with a title, and had a complicated system of construction involving numbers, syllables, and first letters of each line.  I have no idea how to replicate it, because I don’t remember where it came from, and it makes no sense to me now.  “Insane” indeed.  (but I still like to play with numbers of syllables and words, so…)

17 orig drawing s

You can see the entire self-portrait series here.  Above is the drawing I did before simplifying it for the painting.  Somehow I managed to make the present “me” look much younger in the process as well…

Deep

cave window s

The end appears, a double crossing tide
in empty light that does not shine but burn
as rain like needles pierces deep inside

Along the bleeding walls no place to hide
from chanted words the mind must now unlearn
the end appears, a double crossing tide

Eyes close and claim the tears that might have cried
all motion paralyzed against return
as rain like needles pierces deep inside

no voices call, no soul appears as guide
emotion gathers tight, afraid to yearn
the end appears, a double-crossing tide

a barren river, unrelenting, wide,
unnavigable, cursed through aft and stern
as rain like needles pierces deep inside

the past decays, erased, annulled, denied
impossible to conjure or discern
the end appears, a double crossing tide
as rain like needles pierces deep inside

I did this awhile ago (last spring) for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  I was reminded of it because I just entered the art in a competition.  I’ve had nothing but rejections for quite awhile but hope springs eternal as they say.  The first photo I did was on the window with light shining through.  The other two were done on black and white grounds.  Each has its own feeling.

cave blk s

I think Nina and I were on blog break at the time, and it also took me a really long time to do the embroidery.  I also worried the poem, revising and re-revising.  (It could use more work.)

cave wht s

The poem is obviously some kind of formal verse, but I didn’t write down what, and I don’t remember…perhaps someone recognizes it?

 

Evidence

evidence rorschach s

Do you want
to know who what when
where how why?
Or would you
gather shape space color wings
stargazed and flying?

I missed my timing on the dVerse prompt for a poem of questions  So I’m linking this to the “Open Link Night”.  It’s still subject to revision, however…

evidence rorschach clsoe up s

The art is another Rorschach–what do you see?

 

 

Dad relaxing

I found a trove of photographs possibly my sister’s. Like many families we have many photos and sometimes I find some that please me. My Dad used to relax in the den in a rattan cushioned seat. We still have a table from the set. He was the picture of relaxation in this photo. I found some other good ones too.

The photo. His right hand behind his head is cut off so I fudged that hand a bit.

My Dad was a cool guy. I think he’d like being the subject of my blog entry today. Love you Dad!