fāz/the carnival is over

after the Carnival

warm and salty winds

caress bones and sad singing

of a dancing past

 

The Carnival is Over. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel.

Painting and haiku by clinock.

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

holds

his

breath.

 

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

word.

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/Oracle in Love

the Oracle and the Alchemist

She predicted the Alchemist would come, even before she was given the Sight.

Afterwards she could not be certain if it was all a dream, a vision, another foretelling, or simply a subtle shifting of the clouds of prophesy in which she lived.

And so she continued to do what she had always done although now her seeing was a hair out of focus, her balance was a shade off center,

and when she laughed

she laughed trees into blossom.

 

Oracle in Love. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel.

Painting and text by clinock.

Anthem for a New Year

IMG_2904_2_2

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

 

From this heart to all of yours…may your New Year be filled with love, creativity and magic…we build the doors and then we pass through them…

“For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll drink a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.”

Photo by clinock

 

Solstice

white

“Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart’s heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but Pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul’s sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time’s covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable
Zero summer?”

poem: extract from Little Gidding by T. S. Eliot

Solstice. acrylic painting 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.