Here I’ve very nearly completed the middle foreground, save curious extreme details of minutiae. You know, a white dot here and there, or a line that is not completely accurately filled in, or so.
I sometimes do feel as blessed as if I get to work somehow in the spare room, a distant distant spare studio … for Walt Disney … somehow I say. It’s some kind of response. Not necessarily to all the Disney but to Hollywood, Down to Rio in particular, but who can say really.
Who can really say where the sketch that took seconds from my soul came from as I’m now for hours and days and weeks painting it in. There is a cargo airplane, half of a black orchid, strange non animals, non plants — for isn’t that how we imagine the WILD? in our dreams?
the foreign to us in the deep jungle? when really it’s quite innocent
and quite not when we civilians try to survive there?
heaven is a state of mind
it bears repeating
flashbacks back to Stilesboro where Daddy showed me where the old gym was crumbling in all shades of the coolest greens … in the middle of a very careful patch of painting and not lose my cool somehow in two places at one time
or worse, you know, remembering abuse
the alter comes up and I say I’m sorry that happened to you over and over and the pain comes up then and I swallow and stop painting for a few seconds or more it does throw me off then
painting or creating not answering phone calls for business i can do this stop and feel the pain not in a meeting or trying to accomplish some business or nonprofit goal
my frustration is still there trying to accomplish anything at all
but who cares it’s just a painting or whatever not something someone is depending on me for ultimately
just me and you all ultimately
listened to Arcade Fire Reflektor, brilliant and now Chris Whitley, Weed, that stripped down version of so many of his amazing compositions, I think when he knew he was sick, and perhaps dying of lung cancer
so we went to the reception of Deep Listening, the exhibit of words, on Saturday? and it was way way cool. We posted the printout from the words and words2 section of my website below, which begins to explain how I perceived and learned from the collection of words (names of things literally and poetry culled from and inspired from the road) for three years in Tennessee in the 1990s:
(the experiment was a dialogue between the words themselves — there is random alliteration, sometimes contrast, sometimes complement — in terms of what they are talking about … what they are naming, examples of how we have named/described the world?
these are words that are either heard, thought or found and in some sense they are responding to each other — then there is my voice, mostly talking about people and Nature, responding to what i see happening randomly — a dialogue with my blind man’s version of the elephant —
— are we able to name Nature? — what about the renaming of things as our understanding of them changes? there are levels of experience which have been described in Sanskrit, but that is their definition and it’s probably been translated secondhand — the limits of language — what levels of experience does our culture describe? — how does a culture describe life? both pointedly and randomly, consciously and subconsciously)
and Jason tacked it to the wall three times and scared me half to death because I have PTSD right and sharp noises make me jump two feet in the air — even though that was what we were supposed to do — ha —
so I think of people reading that for a month — ?
but really who are we to name anything … should we rename everything? ha
city of large blocks of differing heights with windows with varying degrees of contentment and despair and signage
ha see even that is limited and hardly poetic enough to describe … alas the world
the naming of things
and my dream exhibition of words and words2 would be to record them with various nice people’s voices and have them broadcast in comfy gallery rooms along with the images of the words alone, while people are encourage to Tweet their associations of the experience in response to the words, the exhibit … hee