acts of art 10 ~ Njideka A. Crosby

 

In this series of posts I am exploring the creative process, mainly in the visual arts but also in writing and music.

I research and listen to a great many artists talking about their work and what goes on in their heads and hearts as they create. I am fascinated by the wide variety of approaches but also by how similar many of those approaches are. For instance one thing I hear again and again is the idea and feeling that the work ‘knows’ what it wants to be and we need only let go of the idea that we are in control to allow fruition.

“You work until you disappear…” phillip guston

I know this completely, through aeons of experience. I understand the initiation rituals of preparation, the getting to know you period, like meeting someone new who you hope will be a friend and reveal worlds yet unseen. In this way I slowly bond with the new work as if it were a sentient being. This is often seen by non artists and more linear artists than me as absurd anthropomorphism. Well, I do what I need to do. I talk to my art which I suppose is akin to talking to myself. It’s been this way for decades and has worked for me.

My blogging community, you, are almost all creative artists in your own particular field. Does what I’ve written ring any bells in you?

I have met and read and listened to artists who approach their work completely differently than me. We have food fights and argue all night but mostly we quote Rumi and drink red wine:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.

the complexities of silence

img_20180926_160516794

 

It was a period of silent contemplation.

Away from previous distractions and illusions.

It was an adventure into other realities

and a questioning about things like this.

 

I return to things like this

and I’ve been thinking again

about creative process, how and

why do we do what we do?

 

Painter, song writer, potter,

dancer, musician, actor.

What is this mysterious energy

entertaining us all?

 

Enter this beyond I know

so very well, the back of my hands,

the inside of eyelids, thighs,

mapping you to my home.

 

And the very bones of me,

and the meat, absent of me,

and the soul of every move I make,

and the complexities of silence.

 

art and poetry by Clinock

 

img_20180926_160516794

 

I had been thinking about underneath

the complexities of silence

and how much deeper it can go

before we are only the dance?

 

 

Art – The Complexities of Silence – 16 x 20 – Mixed media

 

One Time

one time 2

 

it was just one time

running from was running to

and the whole world changed

 

it was only once

twilight of an isolated

and then it was night

 

it was just one time

two beaten souls smudged by love

and separation

 

it was only once

but that’s all it took to fly

and the whole world changed

~~~~~~

 

art and haiku by Clinock.

art: mixed media on panel. 10 x 8 inch. 25 x 20 cm.

 

Demented Confessions 16 – Wind Poem

Wind Poem

more a gentle summer breeze really

a mere puff of air

the sound of the letters of my disclosure

a marshmallow zephyr

melting on my tongue

 

but it’s her hand that touches me

a cat’s paw on my skin

a compass pointing to the silent passages

between the sound of each letter

of my disclosure

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Art and poem by Clinock

Wind Poem, 9 x 12 ” (22.86 x 30.48 cm.). Mixed media relief in cradled panel.

http://www.johnclinockart.com

Solstice Dance

Scan copy 2

 

“May the long time sun shine upon you,

All love surround you,

And the pure light within you

Guide your way on…”

 

 

However you celebrate this time of year I wish you love and peace.

The circle turns and the light is reborn,

how wonderful is that…

 

See you all next year.

 

Solstice Dance. mixed media by Clinock.

studio serendipity – secret message

folded message

 

A working studio becomes layered with deep and wondrous drifts of raw material that become shifted and shuffled as space is made for creating the piece of the moment.

Meanwhile potential masterpieces breed in the rubble, invisible and silent.

It’s only when I look through a camera’s frame that what was unseen before reveals itself. These random juxtapositions and chance encounters of textures, shapes and colours form an ever changing and fertile landscape of ideas and possibilities.

The power of framing, of choosing this rather than that, of building a fence around wild horses, of playing hide and seek with the world, of focusing perception within a rectangle, of now you see it now you don’t…

Inspiration does exist but it must find you working.” Pablo Picasso

 

photo by Clinock

edited redux 2014

We Rise

Dove

There are periods of moments

strung together like seagulls

along the white wake of time

that seem to glow with more light,

more intense shadows sliding,

more music in their foam.

 

There have been days like this

leading to the now of writing

on this poignant day of remembrance:

I shivered, sweating and sleepless

through nights of fevered demons

the medicines invoked in the blood.

 

And at the same time needing

to solve incomprehensible clues

leading to solutions of puzzles

I didn’t ask for or want.

And always the rumors of war

we didn’t ask for or want.

 

There were the anniversary rituals too.

One year after the crowning of the mad king,

and the previous day, because he knew to leave

before the Ace of Spades became the trump,

Mister Cohen waved farewell.

I bled tears that day for a man I loved.

 

And today, the eleventh day of the eleventh month,

we enact our agreed rituals of mourning:

Silence, remembering, honouring the dead

of the wars that never end.

People, we can do better than this,

isn’t it time we gave all our children  peace?

 

“From bitter searching of the heart,

we rise to play a greater part.”

 

 

broken-blue-window1

 

 

Mixed media art, photo and poem by Clinock