fāz/the Empty Green Line

The Empty Green

(OMG LOOK! he forgot

to remove the painters tape,

should we tell someone?)


they wear each other like hats, like masks,

like hair and hair nets,

like birds nests and spilled honey.


the empty green line waits

but words can’t be found.

the poet





they are a circus unto themselves,

an orgy of coupling, a welding, a carnival,

partners in the great stumbling dance.


they wear each other

like music wears silence,

like the night wears the moon.


(meanwhile, other clues are given,

attention shifts from vagaries of language

to the eccentricities of the senses).


they wear each other like magicians wear clowns,

like gulls wear the wind,

like somehow nothing seems real

without the written


this magic is called The Naming.

it is also known as

The Forgetting.



The Empty Green Line. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel.

Painting and poem by clinock.

fāz/Unexpected Guests

Unexpected Guests

unexpected guests

came by moon, gone by morning

changing everything


Unexpected Guests. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel and haiku by clinock.

fāz/Wise Women

Wise Women

And we’ll walk the paths that the old ones walk
And we’ll dance the dances they taught us
And we’ll sing the songs that the old ones sang
For the magick now has caught us.


Wise Women. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel. by clinock.

fāz/Send and Receive

Send and Receive

What can I say? I receive, something. A fragment. What I receive I try to express and make tangible with pigment, hand, brush and rag, dance and struggle, and then I send, out, here two dimensional and back lit, and there as objects hung on track lit walls. Viewed either way, by some, passed by most.

This is where the one becomes two, where the road forks, where there are now figures in a relationship, sharing the space that was before inhabited only by one.

All relationships reciprocate energy…I can’t even begin to navigate through the energies sent and received in this painting…

Sometimes it makes me laugh.
Sometimes I find it melodramatic, sometimes tragic.

It could be an opera!

Send and Receive. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel.   Painting and text by clinock.

fāz/Spirit Voices

Spirit Voices

I listened to Paul Simon’s album over and over

as I painted this in the heat of Mexico,

and my brushes danced,

and I danced.


Are these images my spirit guides?

Is this how spirit guides are sent?

Is it possible that ‘grace’ can still be?


Spirit Voices. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel. By clinock.




fāz/Reliquary Head

Reliquary Head

In Italian cathedrals I saw glass boxes (Reliquaries) containing the (reputed) heads and limbs of saints. I wondered how it must feel to be the afterlife spirit of that person trapped inside an aquarium of death with his or her body part(s) for ever on display and with people staring all and every day, however much they prayed, a claustrophobic hell, a spiritual zoo.

How could everlasting peace ever be found?

What a horrific ending for a lifetime of faith and service.

I hope that these sad relics are nothing more than wax effigies. However, on the off chance that they are real this painting is to light a candle and say a prayer for all fragmented souls.

Reliquary Head. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel. By clinock.

*(see fāz/ Ada and Anna for back story)*

fāz/ Ada and Anna.

Ada and AnnaAda is a very sweet elder lady and takes her very sweet elder dog for a stroll and a poop every day in my hood. Ada and I talk whenever we chance to meet by the gate.

Ada told me she named her dog Anna after her only daughter because It seems that her dog, Anna, gives her more respect and more caring companionship than does Anna her daughter who is always just too stressed from selling real estate in Toronto to visit.

Ada always smells of mothballs and Anna of lavender doggy wash liquid and dog poop.

Neither bite.

Ada told me that she was once a secretary to a local winter sporting goods tycoon named Albert Snow! She never married because she was in love with her boss Albert who was married.

Albert’s wife was an alcoholic. Ada sent her a case or two of the very best and strongest moonshine on every possible occasion…!

Ada always tells me to never settle for second best.

(The mostly unreadable collaged text is taken from a typing instruction manual from the 1950s.)

Throughout the winter I will be sharing my work from my year away.

Most of the fāz/ series was painted in Mexico. They are faces looking out from that burning line of incomprehensible magic where outside becomes inside and inside becomes outside. They emerged, fast and furious dragons, their birth carrying image and spirit fire of others and myself, mostly myself.

I like to hang out with this new family, many of them make me laugh, some are welcome spirit guides, some are too tragic for words, all are teachers.

fāz/, pun very much intended, also a confluence of other meanings on many levels:

*a distinct period or stage in a process of change or forming part of something’s development.

* a stage in a person’s psychological development.

*a genetic or seasonal variety of an animal’s coloration.

* carry out (something) in gradual stages.

origin: early 19th century (denoting each aspect of the moon): from French phase, based on Greek phasis ‘appearance,’ from the base of phainein ‘to show.’

all spiraling into the guts of each painting and back into my heart.

Ada and Anna. 18”x14”. Acrylic and mixed media on paper and panel. By clinock.