when i close my eyes we move & glide & ripple through the flow of wind.
we are grace & experience peace of mind—a physical experience of beauty.
nous sommes heureux.
we laugh & laugh & laugh & say good-bye to all that earthly chatter.
sssshhhhhh, listen to the sound of our wings.
I have been in love more times than one,
thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting
whether active or not. Sometimes
it was all but ephemeral, maybe only
an afternoon, but not less real for that.
They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
or anyway beautiful people to me, of which
there are so many. You, and you, and you,
whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe
missed. Love, love, love, it was the
core of my life, from which, of course, comes
the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned
that some of them were men and some were women
and some—now carry my revelation with you—
were trees. Or places. Or music flying above
the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun
which was the first, and the best, the most
loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
my eyes, every morning. So I imagine
such love of the world—its fervency, its shining, its
innocence and hunger to give of itself—I imagine
this is how it began.
a colony, a company, a flock, a parliament, a party—
when birds gather to nest in bushes, scrub, or briar patch i wonder,
do they converse? do they discuss community policy?
or do they merely affirm each other’s presence with a nod of the beak?
i would like to think that they cluster together, speaking through body language
& outstretched wings, the cool soil in their toes, surrounded by the smell of the brush
& imaging life without the presence of man.
“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
—Joan Didion, The White Album
visual storytelling is often presented without words. so we bring our own stories,
our interpretations to what we see. such as knowing what is in a look?
do we know when someone is being pursued or chased, running from or running with?
do we know when someone is aware of another’s presence or uncertain of a sound heard in the distance.
spring brings such beauty to summer. browns, greens, crimsoms, & blue, emerge.
all the creatures move about & live in it. so much rich color—so much inspiration.
The oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and piney,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
—Paul Laurence Dunbar, Summer in the South
style is such an individual thing. though, big hare always seem to come back into fashion.
“At night I dream that you & I are two plants
that grew together, roots entwined,
and that you know the earth & the rain like my mouth,
since we are made of earth and rain.”
―Pablo Neruda, Regalo De Un Poeta/ Gift Of A Poet
i think of the relationships that inspire me & give me faith in the kindness of people.
their presence has given my life beauty.
a wish to all—the experience of sincere tenderness with someone very dear.
Tenderness & kindness are not signs of weakness & despair,
but manifestations of strength & resolution.
tenderness by connecting with the soul of a trusting creature—with a sweet staffordshire terrier or with a precious feline, see pocket of water.
in fiction, characters are usually considered grotesque if they induce both empathy and disgust.
these characters are juxaposed with lovely, fluid, desirable faces & figures.
according to “holy terrors: gargoyles on medieval buildings” the grotesques have been confused with gargoyles which have water spout mouths—the grotesques do not.
artists began to give the figures in grotesque decorations strange caricatured expressions, continuing the medieval traditions of the drolleries of illuminated manuscripts. —Oxford American Dictionary
The grotesque describes a category of images that fits uneasily within the field of Western aesthetics & art history. The relative neglect of these images may be attributed in part to the classical foundations of these disciplines, because the grotesque presents the inverse of beauty and rationality. Where the creation of the beauty was exemplified by the legendary Greek artist Zeuxis, who combined the best features of several figures in order to create one of perfect & unified beauty, the grotesque was formed by combining parts of unlike creatures, seemingly without reason or purpose. Also weighing against the grotesque is its extreme variability, its extravagance & hyperbole, & its resistance to rules or fixed categories. As Victor Hugo observed, there was only one standard for ideal beauty, whereas the variations & combinations possible for the grotesque were limitless. One can go further and say that these combinations are also unpredictable, because they defy logic & deliberately break down established boundaries. —Encyclopedia of Aesthetics
these are photos from my trip to italy from captivating locations in florence & rome. illustrations covering walls & buildings. a wealth of visuals asking to be seen, experienced & interpreted. i find myself captivated. returning to them again & again.
click the link to see a little more of the inspiration found on my trip to italy.
so many different images compose our dreams. so many different ways to reflect on them.
are they curious & mischievous or ominous & something to be feared?
through the mind’s eye of an orange tabby it can be all fun & games,
or perhaps a little silliness & a little dangerous.