PLAYERS SONG (date unknown)
what you lookin’ at?
what you laughin’ at?
what you makin’ fun of?
the end has come
lights gone down
crowds are gone
strides across
this sawdust clown
baggy pants
dirty shirt
worn out shoes
treading through
another broken town
hotel room
lonely bulb
peeling paint
dingy and dank
inhabited mold drown
what you lookin’ at?
what you laughin’ at?
what you makin’ fun of?
the naked man
in the bathtub
smokes a cigar
wearing the painted
face of a clown
milky surface
soapy water
shimmers like diamonds
one deep breath
he’s sliding down
what you lookin’ at?
what you laughin’ at?
what you makin’ fun of?
warm wet meditation
wraps up the man
mind quiet, at peace
distant thunder
smoking cigar lifeline
rising up
paint-stained flesh
reveals the man
washed renewed naked
suffering reality frown
what you lookin’ at?
what you laughin’ at?
what you makin’ fun of?
creative
a study
This image is simply titled STUDY #1. It was completed entirely in Photoshop using various tools like line drawing and selection. Added color and multiple layers for composition. I also layered in some texture from some of my own photos. When I first finished this I was so exhausted that I felt quite indifferent. But 2 months have passed and I find it very rewarding, even enjoyable. I hope you enjoy it also.
Enjoy this warm track by Manhattan Transfer: “Capim” featuring Brazilian singer/songwriter Djavan from their album BRASIL.
Cocoon
mobius faith · COCOON
I am in a personal, creative, social,
emotional and professional cocoon.
Once a caterpillar,
I thought I understood life.
Now it feels like time has passed me by
and I no longer understand or
recognize the world I live in:
irrelevant, voiceless, useless.
I can’t move.
Wrapped in blankets on a bed.
Cocooned in my cotton chrysalis.
I peer out through fuzzy threads
and see people moving about,
attempts at normalcy.
But, I have no desire.
I am weak and sickly;
left to the shadows of a previous life.
I have neither the will nor the strength.
I’m left to wonder if I will emerge from this cocoon
to a new life,
a new type of existence
or if I will die in my encasement.
Will I be able to break free and
enjoy new life?
A new existence?
Better Health?
Feeling “at one” with the world around me?
Or will this shell become my abattoir
slaughtered in silence.
Perhaps I will emerge an avatar
able to engage, teach, foster and encourage the souls who remain?
“If you live long enough and hang in long enough
the world will learn to love you again” (*)
So, now is the time of waiting
and hanging in there
waiting for the metamorphosis to complete
as I wonder….
Will I be a butterfly or a moth?
Will I dine on the sweet nectar of milkweed?
Will I flit and flutter toward the light of my undoing?
In the end the question is not “how?” but “when?”
Even butterflies can die in their cocoon.
* quote by Toya Willcox in the liner notes to her new boxed set.
ESCAPING ONE’S OWN SHADOW
3 more haiku on death & dying
Ending transitions
Matter to anti-matter
Life turns into death
********************
Flesh will decay fast
When life is present no more
Bones will decay slow
********************
Circumstance unknown
I know neither time nor place
When death comes for me
even more haiku on lightning, rain & thunder
Weathers town crier
Thunders crashing box of rocks
announces the rain.
*******
The pink noise of rain
With distant lightnings white noise
A cool breeze for sleep
*******
Music in the night
This ambient symphony
A chorus of rain
3 more haiku on lightning & storms
Restless dreams at night
Toss’d ’bout on flashes of light
Ships on stormy seas
*******
A thunder not heard
The storm can’t hide its approach
Bright lightning flashes
*******
The quiet of night
Static on the radio
The rain comes lightly
poem on silence (or lack of)
Silence Reaching (2013)
in the modern era
silence exists
a decision
a punishment
noisy with appeals
recognizes the imperative
goes on speaking anyway
an intention
an expectation
perforated by sound
enriching emptiness
a resonating eloquent silence
je pe deges parmi le solitude*
horizon
discovery
and formulation
never has less advanced itself as
more
soliciting total attention
strenuous modesty
actual debility
cleansed non-interfering vision
certifying the absence
long silences become almost palpable
spiritual nausea
harsh despair
perverse apocalypse
deployed with systematic irony
blood-tide of decadence
the approaching end
post political electronically connected cosmopolis checked by despair
leaves one without
any
breath
at
all
(*translation – I’m a lonely one)
I actually recorded this one. I always think poetry needs to be spoken/read out loud. Enjoy.
haiku’s on fog
O beautiful morn
shrouded and clouded in mist
fogged o’er secret Spring
wake up now dear Spring
shed the blanket of morning
wipe the fog away
Where, oh morn are you?
Where are your budding flowers?
Even birds whisper
I was born….
I WAS BORN
I was born in 1960. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I will turn 60 in 2020.
I turned 20 in 1980. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I will turn 80 in 2040.
I turned 40 in the year 2000. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
All of my present has been
neurotically ricocheting
back and forth between
my past and my future.
I turned 40 in the year 2000.
When I turn 00
I will return to
what I was
before I was born
At peace.
At home.
In total oneness with
existence and nonexistence.
Haiku on seasonal transition
Dark clouds slipping
through the cold gray skies of Spring;
Winter lingers on.
Dawn Haiku
Pastel skies of
Lavender, pink and tangerine
paint the morning.
… on… Cy Twombly….
One of my favorite abstract artists is Cy Twombly – especially his “scratch” or “scribble” works, like the “Blackboard Series” with the notions of automatic writing, action, movement, simplicity, emotion and passion and how these all work together as a joyous expression of life and identity.
Where I found this artwork: Last Summer I decided to visit the Cleveland Zoo. I was hoping to get some nice pictures of animals but just like me trying to photograph people – my camera just said “no” to animals (mostly because the animals looked bored, unhappy or sickly – so JUST SAY NO to ZOOS! There has to be a better way to learn about exotic animals). Okay so enough about my newly developed political viewpoint toward zoos.
Now, onto the main topic of this post. I did find a couple of other cool things on the zoo grounds. One thing was this blackboard outside the Ape Exhibit where visitors (animal or human) could take a piece of chalk and write, draw or mark up what ever they felt like.
ODE 2 CY TWOMBLY 1
ODE 2 CY TWOMBLY 2
I like both presentations of this work and even if they are the exact image the processing completely changes it and I think they are very complimentary side by side and in the spirit of Cy Twombly’s work – which is why I titled them “ODE TO CY TWOMBLY”. I hope you enjoy.
For the music part of this post I decided to include one of my new finds that I dearly enjoy. The composer is Canadian born Mark Templeton. He composes experimental/abstract/noise/glitchy/ambient music. I hope you like this selection, “Pattern For A Pillow” which is from his 2007 recording STANDING ON A HUMMINGBIRD.
For more on Mark Templeton you can check out his website at http://www.fieldsawake.com
… on … Richter and photography…
“Photo’s create a world,
but I don’t know what’s happening
outside of the frame.”“You know the world of the photo’s,
but not the world they photographed.”
~ quotes by Gerhard Richter from the DVD, GERHARD RICHTER PAINTING
When it comes to photography I enjoy it and I am also constantly dissatisfied with it. The two quotes above, by Gerhard Richter seem to get to the crux of the matter for me. A photo can seem real enough but it isn’t. And it is that pretense of reality that everyone seems sucked into that I have trouble with.
I’ve destroyed almost as many of my photos as I’ve printed for this very reason. I want to create art; something that is lasting and meaningful – but all I can seem to create are images. ~ Terry S. Amstutz (a.k.a. mobius faith)
…on 3 new creations
*as always click on each individual image to view larger.
…on picking up after God…
….on …When Doves Cry….
A great cover version. From the movie soundtrack to Romeo + Juliet.
... on being and becoming ... 