Ghosts – the alone

ghost1Cracked and whispering,

smeared

across frayed and faded

veils of memory,

dissolving

fractured interstices

of stained days,

the one alone,

lost.

 

Loss and paradox

chime

dried bones in dank tunnels

beneath a burning bridge

where bright darkness

casts an eye,

staring down my soul,

stirring my cells

translucent.

 

Intimate spirit

trapped,

struggling for escape

but chained

to rusting remnants

and luminous ice,

a nameless shadow

craving release,

freedom

 

to be loved into

tree skin,

sleeping rocks and gulls,

wolf and worm,

petal and seed.

To enter floods and dust,

and the rising moon.

To let go.

Transcend.

 

Mixed media painting and poem by clinock.

Penguins and Slogan #8 (Douglas Coupland at the VAG)

Penguins 1

The crowds were thickly gathering on the final day of the exhibition as I captured these photos, I apologize for the poor quality, shooting between dozens of heads. The wall description photo was totally out of focus so I paraphrase it here:

‘The collages forming Coupland’s Penguins series are centered around the Penguin publishing house’s familiar orange and black paper backs. Over the covers of these iconic cultural tomes Coupland has applied vinyl texts. Some of these, read across several splayed paperbacks, form short phrases such as “Love Will Tear Us Apart” a song by British post-punk band, Joy Division or “Blasphemous Rumours” the title of a Depeche Mode song.  These phrases layer additional cultural references to the books beneath them.

In my photos I have edited the sequences for brevity.

Penguins 2

Penguins 3

I admit I haven’t read all of the novels referenced. I know there are those amongst you that have. I believe the vinyl overlays probably connect to the underlying theme of each novel. Am I correct in my assumption?

Penguins 5

Penguins 4

I nostalgically connect with the distinctive design of the Penguin covers, remembering them from my early years of reading. I think I understand some of the textual relevance of the overlays. I enjoy the formal qualities of the juxtapositions of Coupland’s text over the Penguin covers, the blocking off and letting through, the casual use of duct and painter’s tape. How do these collages work for you? What memories are evoked for you by these Penguin covers?

Slogan #8:

Slogan #8

Please see my first post in this series for full explanation of all posts. Also see my first ‘Slogans’ post to understand #8.

Credits: thank you to Douglas Coupland and the Vancouver Art Gallery for images and wall descriptions.

All photos by clinock.

 

 

 

Sagacious Serendipity – Red

 

Redimg380

A working studio becomes layered with a deep and wondrous treasure trove of raw material. When I become a camera the possibilities of framing chance encounters with surreal and inspiring compositions are limitless. This series shares my captures of random juxtapositions that caught my eye. Some I may use as source ideas for painting, but all are complete in themselves as examples of sagacious serendipity.

The scraps of writing and doodles are taken from my version of a sketchbook which consists of bits of paper I scribble on as I moodle around the studio.

Click on images for more detail.

Sagacious Serendipity – shed skins

shed skinsshedskinsA working studio becomes layered with a deep and wondrous treasure trove of raw material. When I become a camera the possibilities of framing chance encounters with surreal and inspiring compositions are limitless. This series shares my captures of random juxtapositions that caught my eye. Some I may use as source ideas for painting, but all are complete in themselves as examples of sagacious serendipity.

The scraps of writing and doodles are taken from my version of a sketchbook which consists of bits of paper I scribble on as I moodle around the studio.

Click on images for more detail.

Sagacious Serendipity – VERN

DSC08286

vernA working studio becomes layered with a deep and wondrous treasure trove of raw material. When I become a camera the possibilities of framing chance encounters with surreal and inspiring compositions are limitless. This series shares my captures of random juxtapositions that caught my eye. Some I may use as source ideas for painting, but all are complete in themselves as examples of sagacious serendipity.

The scraps of writing and doodles are taken from my version of a sketchbook which consists of bits of paper I scribble on as I moodle around the studio.

 

map of my heart

map

In case I disappear here is a map of my heart,

a patched up job, repeatedly reassembled.

With a little patience it can still be understood

and if gently handled it won’t fall apart,

but please do not fold, spindle or mutilate.

 

Its paths and crossroads are still echoing

with songs of travelers passing through,

tears too are heard, of the wandering lost,

for though the roads are straight they are also worn

and collapsed with confusions and misdirections.

 

Notice how the blue of fallen sky becomes an ocean

where angels and mermaids dance in arcs of light.

I rest on these beaches when I lose myself,

cool my feet in the waves and sleep for awhile,

then I remember, this is the way back home.

 

And here are the greens of meadows where I lay

deep in new growth, my thrusting blossoms

seeding the verdant winds and high forests of isolation

with pollinations of laughter, longing and desire.

I smudge the map with unseen words against forgetting.

 

And there the golden glow of a thousand votive flames

illuminates the holy dark, recalls the first January sun,

places lamps in all the windows, engorges summer heat,

reflects itself in conjured forms of island fantasies

and shapes of full moon dreams in fields of wheat.

 

The signatures of red I will not hide beneath the surface,

they are its surging life and are crying for acceptance.

These bleeds of love seep through the gauze of landscape

however many bandages of colour I apply.

No compass needed here. This is a map of my heart.

torn and reassembled acrylic painting and poem by clinock

‘The 100′ – # 100. Fin

Fin_2

Done, over, concluded, terminated.

Remember the end of those romantic

French movies? “FIN”,

as in finished and finale.

Fin_2_2

Time to put on coats and hats,

shuffle through popcorn detritus and cola cans,

leave the cosy sentiments of make-believe,

the warmth of shared fantasies and holding hands,

the smells of perfume, upholstery and sweat,

and step through swinging doors

into the glare and noises of the street,

stunned for a moment, floating between

two worlds, not certain which is real.

Fin_2_3_2

Mixed media art and poem by clinock

Thanks Mr. Twain.