“Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays?”
the river knows
It was meant for me.
Monkey wrenches flying across a rocky slope substitute made of stained concrete while all I’m saying is:
let’s get out of the zoo.
“Who say everything’s been said.”
Text at the top in “”:
Ray Bradbury “Fahrenheit 451”
Haiku in decorative italic: Series “messing with other people’s poems”. Deconstructed this time, Nick Drake “River Man”.
Text at the bottom in “”:
Nick Drake “Things behind the sun”
Drawing / painting are by me, the cup, the spoon, the rug, hat, vase and the gadget are store-bought, all the magnificent rest (including my toes) by The Ultimate Artist.
Yes my toes are magnificent, so are yours. Own it.
The second from top photo taken with a vintage iPhone 3GS, no edits.
The rest of the pictures are minimally edited to match the look of the above-mentioned.
The artwork in photos are all part of a two-piece series called “Spider Lily Red – Flare” I have been working on since autumn of 2012.
Took time to develop the style, as I aimed at doing something I haven’t seen anyone do before, that is authentically my own. 9 years on I no longer know what I am doing, I hear that is actually a very good sign that you/r art is getting somewhere.
The season of scented blossoms begins with Ume (Japanese Apricot) in late January.
Demure, delicate, their fragrance so faint, their buds mature during the coldest time of the year, petals push open against late winter chill.
Soft yet Strong, they flower to signal the end of the Winter, and quietly retreat as Spring triumphs and flourishes in magnificent varieties of shapes and shades.
Photos from top:
– Magnolia Kobus, close view. March 18, 2021, at 15:24.
– In praise of my favorite blossoms and the World they reside in – Spider Lily Red-Flare 2, acid dye on silk, as of May 11, 2021, 15:56. (Flare 1 is completed.)
– Same as above, at 15:55. In painting process since May 05, 2019, gradually coming together.
– Magnolia Blossoms in real nice morning light, full bloom. March 27, 2021, at 4:26.
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.
On the day of New Moon in Aquarius – dedicated to the humanitarian of the zodiac.
dawned on me today, that
I’m gonna miss being me
when I’m gone.
Text: “The best thought I’ve ever thought” November 03, 2012, originally posted on cowbird.com.
Pictures: All from early 2014. Kites gliding is a video still, Fukui, Japan, 2011. The small wood sculpture is from 1996.
The photo is a rubber stamp print drawn from a picture of a girl cow, who “escaped on way to slaughterhouse, smashed through metal fence, broke arm of man trying to catch her then swam to safety on island in lake” therefore deserves a portrait drawn nice and pretty.
Source: “The Independent”, February 16, 2018 – no link / please copy the above sentence within “” and search engine it.
I added a lily in honor of the “Story of Ferdinand”, a little tale about a cow “they called Ferdinand the Fierce” who, “when he got to the middle of the (bull fight) ring he saw the flowers in all the lovely ladies’ hair and he just sat down quietly and smelled”.
Book: (1936) Munro Leaf (words), Robert Lawson (illustration). Many read-along videos on YTube (req. less than 10 minutes).
News Flash: Ferdinand existed in real life!! His name was Civilon and the bull fight – of no fight – took place in 1936. (Source: “Ferdinand – The True Story (2014)” – no link / please copy the….)
Come to think of it….the girl cow deserves a name, too. Why not call her Civille. Brave Civille.
Wishing you a Beautiful Year ahead,
from Civille and artista.
Several hours before the moon to turn dark, I brought myself to my favorite sand dune, suited up in my swim gear, like I had been all summer. Mid day in the midst of September, temperature noticeably lower but water was still warm and inviting.
I kept myself pretty much out of the sea since Fukushima incident nine years ago and spent every summer in torment, pining for my ocean fix like I would for a long lost love but this year, after hearing some millionaire technocrat talk about nano technology embeds planned for regular humans like myself I made a decision that an extra plutonium particle or two in my snout wouldn’t be a big deal.
Usually this particular beach has chaotic white forms right at the shore giving me a clue about my whereabouts – as once in water, perspective changes and you become a minute miniature existence floating in the merciless energy soup. But this day it was a little different.
The shore break was nearly non existent. Smaller day I thought, and did not assess the current nor my physical prowess of the day.
Over confidence boosted by over eagerness can cause an issue or two. Without realizing I swam out further than usual and not too long after I started to struggle. Exhaustion grew rapidly like never before and with each wave I had to duck my strength drained in heaps.
Then a thought hit me: this is how people drown. I recalled a news story about a recent mysterious drowning of an actress I had not known existed and my thinking, how could you drown in a ripple-less lake? Fear inflated instantly while my arms turned weighty rubber and I knew I was in trouble.
Then came another thought, this time with quiet, solid confidence I never knew I had:
I am not drowning here.
The next moment I felt the Guidance kicking in, and I turned on my back and floated to rest. But waves kept coming and I had to duck and duck and duck. There was only one other person on the stretch of the beach, and he, a surfer, was just getting in as I arrived, and was way over there to notice me.
Or so I thought. Few moments later I saw him walking across the shore closest to where I was as I called out “Help!!”, to which he responded swiftly.
Guidance strongly at work by then, and just as strong was the surfer who happened to be on the beach that day. As if automated I floated on my back again so as to receive help with least harm to this young man. He positioned himself between me and the horizon and gave several powerful pushes at my soles, like he would to a surfboard. Neither party said nothing, but the communication was in Perfect Flow.
What happened this day have been on my mind since. Thought about it many times where it went ‘wrong’ and what I can do in my future swim. I was fortunate, no doubt. Typing this I still feel my heart quicken.
Each time I go over though, this one point when I said “I am not drowning here” stands out as the pivotal one.
In my struggle I declared, intended from the very core of my existence. Calmly, firmly.
And with bottomless Mercy, Life responded accordingly.
Special shout out to Guidance, Mercy and the surfer I do not know the name of.
Photos, from Top:
01: The beach.
02. Year of Rat rubber stamp, not quite there but I meant well.
03. At work, May.
09. Best picnic of the year – with my muse, red spider lilies, October.
10. The work, as of December 28. (Getting there.)
11. The best find of 2020.
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