Chasing Death, North of Life - November 14, 2010

Chasing Death, North Of Life

True or fiction?

It's a good book.

Why do I never see you write?

A weird tiger, cow or goat?

Technically, it's a bull.

Alluring diamonds describe a river of a darker complexion.

It feels too deep.

Estranged fish with legs.

Superior to God.

I can't believe.

So call me a non-believer.

Bathing in thunder.

This nightmare returned.

Mysterious streets in a brown blur.

A loose leaf binder filled with codes.

Think in terms of tradition.

At present, there are no suspects.

Something Indigenous Just Evaporated - October 8, 2010

Blueprint a microcosm and manufacture it overseas.

What about the tidal wave?

It arrived out of nowhere.

Physical prominence left empty.

Artists within a bubble.

Making solo shows of themselves.

What about the quest for authenticity?

Start to say trans-generational.

With somebody watching.

Voices map out my inner monologue.

My formula is formulaically contradicting.

Say things out loud.

I think this person.

And I think that person.

Is that someone I know?

There's no place for yes.

There's no place for no.

Invisible In Ordinary Ways - September 4, 2010

Invisible

2010 - 11" x 12"

Mixed media on wood

Private Collection - New Mexico

Invisible In Ordinary Ways

Close the door.

I have a notebook full of advice.

This is not a message of happiness, or reassurance, or truth, or warning.

Five percent of twenty four percent will be vivid statements.

This one and this one.

First, we must deal with one.

Longing for meaning.

But cannot fill the emptiness.

Exactly three years ago.

On the Fourth of July.

Some romantic dream.

My dreams about the past became increasingly narrow.

Ten days ago, for the fifth time.

I began to ask.

Is human identity discovered or defined?

Listen to the voices.

We will not follow preachers.

Clover Hearts - August 14, 2010

Clover Hearts

2010 - 24" x 24" x 1.75" Mixed media on wood

I use the Brooklyn Rail newspaper as collage material within my artwork. Words and phrases within the text are underlined to create poetry. Here is the poem from this painting.

Flamenco Dancer On The Green Piano

These things were going on from time to time.

The problem with time.

By it's nature, willl end up

Smaller and smaller.

Whatever had changed wasn't changing.

Artificial angst no longer rang true.

Expressive faces trying to figure out a clear answer.

Leave it alone.

Figure things out a little later.

The story of a chain smoking turkey.

A fantastic fable?

Perhaps.

Intangible dreams

Abnormal behaviors

A Russian ballet.

Mystical bluebird

On a transcendental journey.

Space has it's own rhythm.

Apples and daisies

Suggest a delicate sensibility.

Thinkers in a dozen disciplines

Writing unintentionally, but not quickly.

The fact is turned on it's head.

A new thought eventually turns horrific

Breathe a deep understanding.

Would you say juxtaposing is the same thing?

A child can play dead and do it without thinking.

Abstraction in the contrary phase.

When we are nervous, we see landscapes.

An unassuming demeanor is the stuff of life

How are you going to move?

Flies wearing wings

Seen buzzing around.

The absence of music becomes magnified.

Portraits of life are profoundly touching.

A ghost held my hand and apologized.

I nearly cried.

Disturbed in a way

Conflicting people trapped inside.

Take your shoes off

Watch the tragedy unfold.

Raw canvas is soft.

Painting an oasis for me.

Small things manipulate scale.

Just figure it out.

Plants Cannot Remember My Name - June 19, 2010

Plants Cannot Remember My Name

Finish two sentences.

Hesitate before the wait.

See the two rabbit ears?

What rabbit?

There were two,

And clearly there were not.

I wrote about it, if I were writing.

If I were writing, I could be writing.

To him, it might seem like writing.

I could learn.

Paying attention to it.

If I paid attention.

Learn Shakespeare.

Read poems or a sonnet about the ugly.

Text is sometimes ironic.

It made little beeps.

The one with burned wires.

What was wrong with the wiring?

Stuck between on and off.

People observing people.

I am observing them,

On my computer.

This Sunday, last Sunday.

They often come on Sundays.

The Jehovah's Witnesses,

Are looking for a good listener.

I will make decisions for them.

Given information they already had.

He did feel insulted.

How unusual it is.

She liked to collect jokes.

But it's possible, she did not understand.

There are photographs of painted fish.

This is not to forget.

Gone fishing with friends.

It might be a good memory.

Lotus Sunrise in B-Flat Major - May 31, 2010

Lotus Sunrise in B-Flat Major

2010 - 24" x 24", Mixed media on wood

It's dawn, and the animals gather together for their morning trek. Giant green walking fish and snowy egret lead the way, following the scent of the lotus flower. Alien is the conductor, with the sounds of nature as his orchestra. He recites a poem.

Sonic Parallels of the Zen

Your name is Clive.

Retain a numerical sequence of the raven hair.

To explain one, habitually between ones.

The first includes a second.

Nine, ten, eleven, and then one.

Instinctually write for a few years.

Avoid the long answer.
Question, then ask.

Point to the misunderstood.
Describe a joke.

You mean diversion?

An articulate and extensive philosophy.

Cited as a composer of composing, an anti-composition.

Decidedly avante-garde.
Infamous perplexing works, Dada style.

Turn to the melodies in the ceiling fan.
Playing a note of the wind.
Imbuing enthusiasm of a true silence.
Pages of a blank score and not a single note.
Listen to it.

The tribe reaches the pink mountains of the forgotten world. A lotus flower rises from water, releasing the sun into the sky.


Background: I take the Brooklyn Rail newspaper and underline words and phases in the articles that catch my attention. Then circle a word or phrase for the title. It's more of a subtractive process, taking a page of words and editing down to a poem, or maybe several. It's kind of backwards from the traditional process of adding words to a blank page, but it works for me. The pieces of newspaper with poems get used as collage material in my artwork.

The concept of taking something that already exists and turning it into something new was inspired by a Richard Prince exhibition at the Guggenheim - 2008. His re-photography, nurse paintings, and deKooning woman, collage paintings were my favorites.

Manipulation Through The Enormity of Constant Repetition - May 4, 2010

Manipulation Through The Enormity of Constant Repetition

Is large scale several hundred?

Tiny, to be sure.

Go away, but still say,

"Whatever is perfect, I don't need anymore."

We all would like to think,

This myth of the real,

It is almost entirely a myth now.

These interesting little ironies.

Do you think this now?

This idea of the past.

Yeah, I think.

You know, it is overwhelming.

I cannot imagine.

Interrogated by idiots.

And this woman, well not exactly.

She was sympathetic to me.

I don't really understand.

The idea that everyone might have imagined.

I found it rather touching.

You can start from zero and one.

Otherwise you end up with something sentimental,

Or something just your own.

That something I had for many, many years.

I can read a couple of languages.

So I have some access to it.

I had no real access.

I just didn't know much about it.

So you stick with the idea.

Some short.

Some shorter.

It would have been foolish to try.

Did any of your views about people change?

For one thing, I had no significant knowledge about water.

Filled with technical detail,

In great detail.

Water is power,

Which powers, the water.

If you don't understand,

You're not going to understand,

Why this is here,

Why that is there.

What, why.

All this kind of stuff.

To think you know,

Should never have been.

Remember to speak how they speak.

The stars at night.

This desert in the suburbs of New York.

An enchanted sky,

That has really reduced air quality.

You don't see the stars anymore.

There is haze in the air.

Smoke and dust.

I don't remember eating.

You are eating something?

It.

This kind of metaphor between two.

Yes, I think it's true.

Alive is also death.

You draw upon sources,

Your own impressions.

Our ability to create metaphors,

Of the things we see.

Everything is infinite, sometimes.

What is the myth?

What should it be?

Well this does require you to think, for example.

Yes, this is so.

Background: I take the Brooklyn Rail newspaper and underline words and phases in the articles that catch my attention. Then circle a word or phrase for the title. It's more of a subtractive process, taking a page of words and editing down to a poem, or maybe several. It's kind of backwards from the traditional process of adding words to a blank page, but it works for me. The pieces of newspaper with poems get used as collage material in my artwork.

The concept of taking something that already exists and turning it into something new was inspired by a Richard Prince exhibition at the Guggenheim - 2008. His re-photography, nurse paintings, and deKooning woman, collage paintings were my favorites.

This poem was created from:

The Brooklyn Rail - March 2010 issue pg.8

In Conversation - "A Modest Imperialist", William T. Vollmann with Steven Ross