Anthem for a new year

 

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“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in…”

 

From this heart to all of yours…may your New Year be filled with love, creativity and magic…we build the doors and then we pass through them…

“every heart, every heart / to love will come / but like a refugee…”

“For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll drink a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.”

Photo by clinock

P.S. My new year’s resolution is to remain cheerfully cooperative with the primal flux.

 

 

Solstice Dance

solstice dance 2
Through this
our longest night

 

the beasts of the earth

and beneath the earth

return the sun

to the queen of light

 

and all the hands

of the promise of spring

join the dance

 

 

Art and poetry by Clinock.

Art: Solstice Dance. 8 x 8 in. ( 20 x 20 cm). Mixed media in cradled panel.

 

 

acts of art 4 ~selfportraitclinock

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These are the words that circle the above Self Portrait in circular mirror:

“In the mirror my name is lost in canyons of colour. Thoughts and feelings dissolve in shadows and light. Memories become texture and line. My fingers dance to the drums of the Fathers and the chanting of the Mothers. Night spirits whisper and call and the shaman of the sun sings music that swells inside. Flesh dissolves into rainbows of light. Rich and pulsing darkness purrs upon impossible edges of skin, the illusion of my beginning and ending. I fly in eagles and glide cold depths in the bellies of whales. I am in the tall pine, the voices of the Mothers and the hands of the beater of drums. Proudly I move to the drum. Within this circle of incantation and musty magic I am dancer, warrior and magician and my spirit is straight and true. I look into my eyes and each orb becomes a universe. The stranger in this circumference of glass  guides my hand and I dissolve again into marks moving across paper deserts. I know this language, always becoming, between the stars and the deepest cave of my heart. It speaks of coming home again. It speaks of walking this world proudly and in beauty”.

~~~~~~

I couldn’t do a series like this without including thoughts on my own process, and this won’t be the only time I do so because every day I change my shape.

Above is a Self Portrait made from my reflection in a circular mirror a very long time ago. I wrote the words that frame the drawing as I worked. At the time I was strongly influenced by north west coast indigenous shamanism.

If you have ever seriously immersed yourself in making a self portrait you understand what a profound and enlightening experience it is. The words I wrote are a fragment of everything I felt, thought and grokked during that evening:

I disappeared and re-emerged a hundred times. I went from the shyness of looking myself in the eyes for more than a second to total absorption beyond time and any face I could call Me. I passed through ‘this’, a reflection of me, to total objective observation of certain colours, forms and human features, my name and identity long forgotten. I was visited by ancestors, dead friends and lovers. I walked away and made tea and returning discovered everything had changed.

My head didn’t fit…

I have made a few other self portraits before and since. The process is too intense for me to do often.  Each time I meet myself is part punching bag, part deja vu and part ‘oh far out I’ve never been down this rabbit hole before’.

pie-rat

Then there are the self portraits that are out of nowhere and off the wall. They crack me up every time and I am always grateful for their reminding of that pirate / clown / trickster side of who I think I am.

Laughter is so excellent.

~~~~~~

Words and art by Clinock.

Image 1: Self Portrait in circular mirror with text.  Diam, with text, 12 in. Chalk pastel, conte and black pen.

Image 2. Self Portrait as Pie-Rat. 18 x 14 in. Acrylic on canvas.

the complexities of silence

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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

 

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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.

 

Mexico – Carnaval, (metamorfosis)

Parade make up SMA

Carnivales

butterfly

us.

we paint our faces

decorate our bodies with coloured music

emerge into ritual

 

we transform our selves

shedding skins we thought were us

casting our masks into fire

 

Carnivales

butterfly

us.

the Old Ones open their arms

welcome us

singing our secret names

 

we prepare our hearts

to dance with the spirits

of the sun

~~~~~~

 

 

Photo and Poem by Clinock