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Friday, October 26, 2007

paint in chiaroscuro, showing visual emotion..... a series

I'm beginning to see continuity. I've been wanting to paint a series of works that represented emotion as it is in the inside, the feeling to the outside, the visual. I have been working and reworking for some time. I'm seeing a pattern of chiaroscuro (light on dark contrast) and it stirs an overwhelming response about emotion in my dearest companions. Up close, subtleties come to life. From afar, dark emerges

Duality and compliment
In dark and light
Whole, no saturation
Like apple before the juice

I'm flowing into a
simple state
the gallery's pride and joy
look at blood from the outside

Portraits like love and pain pulled so much
From inside to travel from mind to life
with strokes absent evaluation
and without consent

They're talking through constant traveled roads
That clear shiny black asphalt
fearlessly holding the hand of
grasses who still embrace the snow

The yin and yang
I work out on each canvas
will blend and divide like charges coming from the heart
in a dance of black & white

dark inside, outdside light
the product of soul's emote gently slips out of subltle confines
or sees the need to violently escape
If you look with soulful eyes, it's never less than beautiful

Dark flows into light
and back just the like, day into night
I painted life to free temperment
that tantrically embodies sweet placid reserve

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Remembering you, Madame VanZanten. You touched my soul

For those of you who knew her, she was the most intriguing complexity and intrigue that ever blessed the sleepy hollow town that fed my formative years. She gave culture and discipline. Hated by the weak at mind, revered by the free.

Rest in peace.

Past coming into present, leaking into the future
Confusing the natural tendency to lean towards sense and order
How few acknowledge we are chasing the dragon
If logic rules and eradicates,
Why is the inductive the root of all haste?
Dreams, love, future, forgiveness, freedom...
All loose change of life that can never become that almighty dollar.
When will we see what we seek is organic
It has no rules, no regulation, no guarantees
The only thing consistent is birth life death
Yet it seems to be what feeds life into the umbilical cord called hope
Subsistance reciprocates dependance

I feel a tad out of place these days.
I'm staring at those I hold dear
Watching the struggle between the heart and the mind
I feel like I'm being guided by the soul of that blessed teacher.
Certainement madame, s'il vous plait. Je voudrais de l'embrace commes des vous
Freshman child looking into the intensity of her eyes
Some moments
Some souls
Penetrate and open your mind to truth
As never told but honered the path I would have to take
I learned the day I looked into her wise eyes intoxicating me with passion for elements outside that fed my passion within
That she told me something on a higher level
I had to let passion guide
Without, I'd be led astray
Find art, philosophy, and honest expression of the body and mind
Find life
That is love
Nothing more
Nothing less
Love

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

4 days... my drug

I've been painting for 4 days.
Up till four every night
Sorta feel like a snowstorm hit my body and I didn't have the sense to go inside.
Nowhere to go but the 2 foot door into someone's mind.

I'm that little red balloon
that the boy chases all over London
So precious
He just has to have it.
More because it's always out of reach

But all I'm doing is chasing the outer limits of the atmosphere
Don't know why
It's just a means to an end
So far into my own head

But art makes me so high
and noone can make me stop
except myself
and today I realized I'm outta control

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

I miss the snow (revised)

Remember last year, that night you drug me out in the snow?
I knew something was right when you told me it was gonna be fine, you just had to see me
And the plans were so divine
I felt the passion in those intoxicating eyes, pulling me inside while they entertained
I smiled as your face couldn't hide distaste at each Parisian dish you tried
But lover you only wanted me satisfied
Do you remember lover how you never gave up on pursuing me?
I couldn't hide from the pleasure stories your eyes told me you could provide

That one slushy day in November

I felt a dizzy warmth in the thought that you might just break through
Into the soul I tried to consign
And pulse back a beat
I drove away with sugar icicles warming my body
The scent of you in my hair
Longing coming alive
I drove back to him
When I hit the bridge to the West side
That still connected me to you
and the city you called our playground
But on the verge of him
and our paper doll life
I slammed on my brakes
My sensible cabin became a snow sled spinning 360
but I didn't care
I knew I was still in your arms
And someday I'd clear away the fog
I slid sideways for what seemed a lifetime
Calm as I neared the edge
towering over the Duwamish
my ride came to a euphoric end inches from the rail
Sitting alone and still on the bridge that carries droves
of ants into the city for the grind
The night stood still
and bright
No one came for what seemed a lifetime
I knew my life woud change

I drove over to him.
To tell him
Sublime
To let me go

He must have felt it from me somewhere deep inside
Just like a dog he swallowed down the scent of my fear
A weak and enticing potency tellig him we would eventually die
Igniting hostility strong enough to silently chew me up and throw me aside over paiinful time as I tried
He left me out to die, where you patiently stood waiting
to collect me and guide me back to my life
and gave yin for his yang
Only you coud replace assault with sanctity
Now, I can embrace the snow10/16
Convinced "it'll be all right"

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Undergarments of my life

Undergarments of my life

Maintaining control

what an oxymoron.

How can any sensible person believe maintenance of a conceptual state that is purely ruled by interprestion be possible?


I'm an educated woman. I've seen a chunk of the world. I've had my share of experiences.

Yet I can't say I know very much. The more I learn, the more I realize I know very little.

Maybe this is in left field, but here goes:

Science::
The conscious mind shows what needs to be seen.
It's all a very slick user interface if you think about it
The subconscious stores away all the data of our experience.
We build our characters, motives, desires from the entirety
But we look back to give homage to experiences creating the end result
Or draw conclusions of how we got from A to B based on what's left in the memory banks.
Underneath... not-so-pretty files fold over and into one another

I think it's ok.
I am one of the fortunate ones that chooses to see beauty
I know all of that other stuff is there
I know it is equally integral in my totality
But I choose to pull from experience
Beauty
Love
Passion
Kindness

Art::
To look at as the portrait of my life
Everything else is there
Like the rabbit skin glue
Or the gesso
Or the foundational strokes
They give the texture, paint and linseed a strong home to rest
So that the beauty builds with every layer.
Every mix of pigment
Every cut with the palate knife.

What you see outside will be there for lifetimes to come in reverie
Underneath, the base lays strong and proud
Forgotten
Steady in it's love for the paint it preserves
That is beauty,
That is love.

I love all that has made me who I am

1:17 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

He's learning that not everything pleasurable and fulfilling is love

October 14, 2007 - Sunday
Learning that not everything pleasurable and fulfilling is love

I am not in love with you.
I am your fantasy
I take my cues from your desires
Don't fear my love,
I will never be more than you can handle.

I will fulfill your curiosities
Pure hedonism in its highest form.
But please don't run my love
You created me, you alone guide me
The mind
Controls me
Not the heart,
So you need not worry I will bring you pain or fear.

Like the novel that carried you to exotic lands
Or the film that drew you to weep tears of joy
I'm there for you
Until the lights come up and bindings close around the final page.

But I will linger in your soul
Until desire draws you to the sequel my love.
Created by the mind, but resting lovingly in the heart.
I will not bring discontent when our story ends

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Pro-Hedonism

October 6, 2007 - Saturday



Current mood: Remebering feeling love stoned
Category: Love stoned Romance and Relationships

**Excuse any typos, I chose not to edit this for fear of editing content and taking the passion out of it

Do you ever wonder why we have certain standards? Specifically in matters of "love & sex"

I mean, I GET the whole "consistency" thing. It's very convenient and has oodles of merits.

But there are some of us (I assume it's just some cuz everyone seems to be buying into the norm) who don't want it like myself. I can't seem to live with it, and flat out reject it!!!

So it boils down to this: relationships. we are always in them, like it or not. All of our interactions are relationships even if for only one night. so why is it that people like to put a label, status, or contract to them? I'm not saying boundaries can;t be set and commmitments made if two mutually agree. Honestly, we are big blobs of thinking matter constantly seeking nourishment for growth. Sex and intimacy is no different. Just as one seeks and desires food, they also seek physical pleasures. These two elements feed the body and the heart. So why is it acceptable for folks to have diverse palates, different times of eating,varying amounts, and a wealth of preferences when we are told nourishment in the form of intimacy has to follow EVERYONE ELSE'S GUIDELINES. Why does our passion have to always be on a diet, or commanded by a nutritionist. Sure, some ways of eating can kill me just as some ways of making love can kill me. But most people know how to avoid severe demise in all of their consumption, so why not allow freedom in the consumption of passion.

Some of us have a lot more of it than others, just like muscle mass. We need to feed our passion more vigorously than those with less.

I don't want marriage. I don't want a man to live with me. Unless, that is, it feels right for the right reasons. For example (imagine, don't assume this is true) I told my last boyfriend that I never wanted these things and it seemed as though it became his crusade to convince me I had to have it. I almost fell for it, but I met my now love during our year and a half coexistence. But I started to fall for the dream the first one sold, even though neither of us wanted it, at least not with each other. I almost let the second one go. Story ends in utter tyranny as both of us snap to our senses. I felt inspiration in poetry, philosophy, passion, music, metaphors, desire, and oh so many "big things" while he found inspiration in stability, calm, and roots. I needed to fly and treated nostalgia as a beautiful means to self-discovery. He held strong to it, reliving it as best he could. Two people who bonded over nostalgia, yet completely different in the end with a complete different value placed on the nostalgia.

So, imagine he does his best to convince her to think the way he does but he falls in love instantly with a more qualified wife. She's set aback, mostly out of hurt ego and frustration at the stupidity of almost being sold the lake-front property in the desert. She (I) return to my other lover that blesses me every day with passion and inspiration. I start to believe in myself again. I start to love myself again. How is it that when I was in what society told me was the "right" situationlf according to standards, I was unhappy and lost myself? With my lover, we experience hedonism, mutual faith, pure honesty, and unconditional giving. Yet we will never marry and procreate. We wander from time to time and experience another, but we always return to one another. I know it isn't forever, but if we we ran into each other in old age and alone: I honestly could see us broken and rickety running off on fascinating adventures long beyond when Viagra works, or even wanted. Yet we will never give each other what you all think we "need" but we will always fulfill and satisfy each other beyond any expectation.

Why does the second relationship sound so much more appealing to me? Am I crazy, or am I the only one who places John Stuart Mill's Utilitarianism into play when it comes to matters of the heart. See, I seek pleasure. Not at the expense of others, but for general gain. If the two of us are happy, it doesn't hurt anyone, but it assures two less miserable people in this world.

I don't seek to fit my heart into a box confined by rules. I just want to let it give love and let another do the same. No rules.

Just something to think about.

Currently listening :
Justify My Love
By Madonna

1:16 AM - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove