“It’s the end of the world as we know it…

…and I feel fine.” (REM).

Qua

“I’m beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me. My story isn’t pleasant, it’s not sweet and harmonious like invented stories; it tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.” Hermann Hesse

Qua. 16×14 in. 41×36 cm. Acrylic on panel.

 

With every breath

I feel the world within change

and yet, recognizable

 

Haiku by Clinock

Solitude

solitude

 

KEEPING QUIET
by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you stay quiet and I will go.

____________________________

Solitude. Acrylic and mixed media on panel. 20×16 in. 50×41 cm.

Instagram: @johnclinock

Portfolio: johnclinockart.com

 

Strange Spring

hope

 

If I was going to come back to WP at all it had to be today.
Today is one year exactly since I last posted on Art Rat Cafe.
Symbolism / Ritual / The closure of circles…

I took a hiatus from WP and began posting on Instagram because I wanted less. I needed a brain break and Instagram is a graphic novel. a gallery, a picture book. It’s clean and simple with a limited space for writing. It’s like texting whereas WP is like writing a letter. I like the way Instagram is structured. I can visit other artists easily and look at their work all together like strolling around their studio.

I’m not putting down WP at all,at all… just explaining why I went away and why I like where I went and why I will be staying there as well as come back here. Instagram is my Yin, Word Press my Yang. For at least the last six months WP has been on my mind. To stay or to go? It seems a trivial question now but I’ve been with WP almost ten years off and on and I have great affection for all my Word Press friends. I enjoyed blogging but began to question what more I had to offer.

I was teetering on the brink as they say, to return or not to return as the twelve month circle closed?  My virtual friend, Nadine, gave me a gentle nudge and over the brink I went, the Tarot Fool stepping out into unknown space, and here I am again.

every day feels

I’d forgotten how much white space they give you here. It reminds me of facing a large new painting canvas. I always find it terrifying. Lost in the tundra! The first thing I do is eliminate the white surface using five inch brushes and rollers. Looks like I’m doing the same thing here but with words. And that’s all I’m saying tonight. I don’t know where this may take me, I surrender to serendipity. I do know however that I will be sharing many of my Instagram posts, art and poetry old and new, and maybe I will even open up art rat cafe CAFE again.

Tonight and almost 24/7 my head is full of Covid 19 as is yours I’m sure. When it began it was a welcome relief from having Trump bouncing around in my brain every day. Now I don’t want either, ever again. But they are both real and present dangers in our world and I’m learning, slowly, how to open and empty and be. To do no harm and take no shit…

sweet delirium

Some of my recent pandemic art relieves the text above:

Hope – detail of random layers on worktable.

Every Day Feels Like Sunday Morning – Acrylic and mixed media. 24×36 in. 61×91 cm.

Sweet Delirium – Acrylic on panel. 12×24 in. 30×61 cm.

“Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.”

                                                                                                    Madeline L’Engle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just – spring

rite-of-spring

in Just-
spring          when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it’s
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far          and          wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it’s
spring
and

the

goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles
far
and
wee

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Poem: In Just– by e.e.cummings. 1920.

Painting: Rite of Spring, by clinock. 20″ x 30″. (51 x 76 cm). acrylic on paper.

 

birthday goat man

birthday

this sweet birthday folderol

it’s about time

and cycles and noticing

the breath of summer again

 

it’s about time

and something round and moist

passes into nameless futures

all ribbons, candles and laughter

 

and then my painted self

echoing my birthing,

a goat man, full of wild asking

and impossible desires

 

and here again it’s about time,

every year a revolution, a girding of the loins,

another chance to make it real,

another stepping out on the road to nowhere

 

 

Painting and poem by clinock.

Birthday Goat Man. 14 x 11″. acrylic on canvas.

for reasons unknown but time will tell

Qua

“…Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and Wattmann of a personal God quaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown but time will tell…”

Painting: For Reasons Unknown by clinock. 14 x 11″. Acrylic on canvas.

Words: extract from Lucky’s speech, Waiting For Godot by Samuel Beckett.

Peyote Mask-thin ice

peyote-mask

 

 

Peyote Mask. 18×14″. Acrylic on panel. by clinock

Thanks to Yoko and YouTube video artist.