The Jester’s Jester

the jester and her jester

 

Why are we not all born with a jester attached?

To be with us until we die. To keep us awake.

To remind us of the truth.

To fill mortality with laughter and the jingle of bells?

 

If the jester listens to her jester as the brain listens to the heart

She may eventually find peace amongst the flow and thrust

of our twisted ribbons.

Are we finally saved then, can I relax now

or did i get it wrong again?

 

It was only yesterday was it not

that the ferryman winked at me?

And although the days are losing definition

I’m certain it was the same day

you made a necklace out of acorns

and hung it around my neck, laughing.

 

We are blessed and sacrificed at the same moment.

The breast to the memory stone.

Not a circle but a spiral and all is suddenly Carnival,

bright and loud and gilded,

showing the folds and creases of pockets and wallets and bags

as we leave them at the door.

And unburdened

we are now

free to dance.

 

The Jester’s Jester. 18×14 in. 46×36 cm. Acrylic on panel.

Painting and poem by clinock.

The Profundity of Change

the profundity of change

“Breaking through the solid grid of references”

Thank you Jana for this perfect line. @jana_h_white / http://www.poetryoflight.org

The Profundity of Change. 20×16 in. 50×41 cm. Acrylic and mixed media on panel.

~~~~~~

“Therefore, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away… and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast…. be happy about your growth, in which of course you can’t take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don’t torment them with your doubts and don’t frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn’t necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust…. and don’t expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

“We are no longer the knights who say Ni! We are now the knights who say ekki-ekki-ekki-ptang-zoom-boing!”  – Monty Python

 

 

Danse Macabre

Danse Macabre

cherry blossoms bloom

robins sing and ferns unfurl

the old moon returns

but who is this dark stranger casting shadows over the daffodils, lurking unseen in the April air, stalking us as we move uncertain through an astonished world?

~~~~~~

Poem and art by clinock.

Danse Macabre, 14×17 in. 36×43 cm. Acrylic and mixed media on paper

Instagram: @johnclinock

Portfolio: johnclinockart.com

 

fāz/ Ada and Anna.

Ada and Anna

Ada is a very sweet older lady who takes her very sweet older dog for a stroll and a poop every day in my hood.

Ada and I talk whenever we chance to meet by the gate.

Ada told me she named her dog Anna after her only daughter because her dog, Anna, is more respectful and more caring than Anna her daughter who is always “just too stressed” from selling real estate in Toronto to visit her mother in Vancouver.

Ada smells of Lily of the Valley Eau De Cologne and mothballs and Anna of fading lavender doggy wash and fresh poop.

Neither bite. Neither still possess reliable teeth.

Ada told me that she was a secretary for 30 years to a sporting goods tycoon named Albert Snow! She never married because she was in love with Albert Snow who was married.

Albert Snow’s wife, Abigail, was an Alcoholic.

Ada sent Abigail Snow a case of the very best and strongest moonshine on every possible occasion…

Ada always says, “Generosity killed the cat”…she also always tells me to never settle for second best.

 

(The mostly unreadable collaged text is taken from a typing instruction manual from the 1950s.)

 

Throughout the winter I will be sharing my work from my year away.

Most of the fāz/ series was painted in Mexico. They are faces looking out from that burning line of incomprehensible magic where outside becomes inside and inside becomes outside. They emerged, fast and furious dragons, their birth carrying image and spirit fire of others and myself, mostly myself.

I like to hang out with this new family, many of them make me laugh, some are welcome spirit guides, some are too tragic for words, all are teachers.

fāz/, pun very much intended, also a confluence of other meanings on many levels:

*a distinct period or stage in a process of change or forming part of something’s development.

* a stage in a person’s psychological development.

*a genetic or seasonal variety of an animal’s coloration.

* carry out (something) in gradual stages.

origin: early 19th century (denoting each aspect of the moon): from French phase, based on Greek phasis ‘appearance,’ from the base of phainein ‘to show.’

all spiraling into the guts of each painting and back into my heart.

Ada and Anna. 18”x14”. Acrylic and mixed media on paper and panel. By clinock.

‘The 100’ #90 – Clinock’s Big Adventure

Clinock's Big Adventure

Clinock’s Big Adventure, (self portrait) by clinock.

Acrylic and Mixed media painting on cradled panel. 18″ x 14″ (45.72 x 35.56 cm).

‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog my intention is to present 100 pieces of text based art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.

Another Day…

Another Day by clinock. 18 x 24”. Acrylic and mixed media on cradled panel. 2012.

Process – Colour field laid down then added (pasted) edited and treated magazine pictures. Magazine pictures treated with solvent, altering their content and further altering with acrylic. The whole was then painted with acrylic layering.

Not sure if this is finished – may apply a blue wash to knock back some of the more distracting colours – would appreciate feedback from you on this…

The play of solvent on magazine images is a new technique for me. I use Stevenson Odorless Mineral Spirits for my solvent. If the magazine is new (old ink doesn’t work) one can scrub into the image creating brush-like marks and allowing the images on the reverse of the page to show through. One can also apply solvent to the image, place it solvent side down onto the surface and then apply linear pressure with a 2B pencil to the dampened area which transfers the image onto the surface – al la Robert Rauschenberg.

One can create a collage and leave it as such or one can incorporate collage elements into a painting so that they ‘disappear’ into the painting. In this work I have attempted the latter.

Although my break was wonderful I am left with so many posts from you all to catch-up on that it seems impossible to get up-to-date. I may need to jump over the missed posts and begin again as if this never happened. If I do this please understand that my lack of comments and ‘likes’ comes from necessity not from disinterest.

“If you don’t have trouble paying the rent, you have trouble doing something else; one needs just a certain amount of trouble”. Robert Rauschenberg