a snake, a stone,
a silvery glow
a hawk, a thrush,
a thorn in your hand
the tale of the night
the bed of the well
three shadows of blue
a stroke of the sun
a loss, a find,
the dead of the night
a sliver of light
the promise of spring.
Originally published with color version of the same photos, taken in 2013 (ripples) and 2014 (tree) with a poem “Spring Song” on March 30, 2014. and was removed long since.
Removed due to feeling protective of the poem, which was “birthed” as if without my effort.
Shared part of it in my Digital Zine 1: Own Your Shadow however.
This version was published under “select social posts” on March 30, 2021 and moved to “diary” on December 06, 2021.
You are more than welcome to leave a comment, we used to do that and it was really fun before things online got very centralized….
Something different today, something that’s been on my mind.
Time to open my mouth and be a little vulnerable.
In a nursery rhyme style for easier read ( as opposed to a wall of text style ).
“You” here means those of you the following apply. If not, as they say, let it fly.
I share my works / ideas / experiments freely online. I love to share, I hope to inspire.
My choice. My pleasure.
Creative ideas are vague to define, where to draw the line.
Potent ones though, would make artworks pop. Make them soulful, make them come alive.
My take. My aspiration, I am aiming high.
I draw mine from Nature. Creation, if you may.
Many talents out there but I don’t look around.
Don’t want to be influenced. Too many signals in the world.
I could dull my sensor or put on a blinder. I chose the latter.
Just enough to focus, on what is Subtle. Sincere.
I lose out on some worldly goodnesses this way. My choice, and that’s alright.
If, though, a person choose to seek ideas from other people’s works,
it has got to be digested and be made your own before you show public as your work.
( Or end up looking more like an identity theft. )
Old fashioned creative integrity, still hasn’t gone out of style.
Little about me, enough to make sense.
I did not choose the beaten path for artists: education, affiliations.
I knew, for me, that was what I needed for the free flow of Creativity I was born longing for.
My choice, price to pay either way.
Along with it, continuous weeding of my inner landscape so as to receive Inspiration better.
You see, Creative Ideas aren’t free bags of Cheetos
(no offense, Cheeto, I used to love you much)
falling from the sky right into your mouth.
They are more like air waves, you got to know to tune in,
in the society of ours with so much at stake.
Good news though fren, you got your antenna to hone.
A reminder from me in case you had forgotten.
Got one last note to share, this may sound harsh.
Especially, but not limited to, those who found my work
because I gave you my up-votes on social media somewhere
and proceeded to engage in the above mentioned endeavour …
C’mon now people, your soul deserves better than that!!!
Well that’s all friends, please allow me to conclude:
I hereby would like to request your respectful treatment of my work.
(And not exactly my business, but your Dignity too.)
Thank you for your attention. I rest my case for now.
“How sweet it could be.” – hand written is a journal entry from 20 yrs ago during my lengthy creative block.
The artwork in progress was photographed, compiled and added to this post on March 18, 2021, an ongoing painting for the second piece of the two-piece series “Spider Lily Red” ( acid dye on silk / red on ivory ).
The painting started in May 2019, been almost two years. Some called me a perfectionist, but that is not what is happening here; there seems to be a place I can bring the painting to only with this super detailed approach.
The lines are my own personal interpretation of Red Spider Lily petals, and Organic Elegance flowing through every elements in their world. Some things take time.
Tapping into one’s own reservoir requires a decision.
To risk finding what you are made of. To dread if the well is empty.
To stand in one’s own truth. Owning one’s originality makes the person stand alone, sometimes also apart.
To own one’s Light. Fearfully, hesitantly, awkwardly.
To feel content in a truest sense. Fulfilled, in a way nothing else ever could.
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