ask ancient question,
Is everything OK or not?
and Trickster appears
photo and haiku by clinock.
Thanks and credit to unknown dumpster artists.
‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog my intention is to present 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.
Posted in Art, Photography, poetry, Street Art, Text and Art, The '100', The Inner Path
Tagged dichotomy, dualism, dumpster art, haiku, OK or not?, philosophy, The Trickster
It’s a fast and frantic dance
around the corpus collosum
these days -
a crowded floor,
confused music,
stumbling movement,
crushed toes and egos.
Always has been this way
I guess and
always will?
Spinning yins and
gesticulating yangs
yelling and threatening.
Black versus white.
Frolic becomes fight,
man and woman,
ideologies,
church and state,
hate,
woman and woman,
man and man,
the loss of love,
war.
What if the gods lay down
and slept it off?
What if the waltz
was more fascinating
than the weapon?
What if a vast silence
descended
and everyone
took the day off
and listened
in quietude
to what one other person
wished to say?
The world continues
to turn gracefully.
It is only the animal
who-man who
is too clumsy
and deaf with self
to follow the music
of the spheres.
Get down
and boogie
the night
away –
it takes two
to -
and more.
And many more
equals
peace.
Poem and Acrylic painting on canvas. 20″ x 30″ by clinock.
Posted in Art, Stories of my Art, poetry, Paintings
Tagged acrylic painting, Love, war and peace, Duel, dance vs conflict, dualistic thinking, aggression, hate, expressionistic painting
The Waiting Room Drawings #6 – Urban Heat – solvent rubbing – by clinock. June 04. 2013.
she comes and goes
in this room
lacerating space with light,
tears and laughter,
while I stand
in urban heat
between faces and windows
lost in the solitude of speed.
she comes and goes
through the waiting,
promising nothing
yet open to all,
while I stand
arms akimbo
within traffic jams
that do not speak to me.
she comes and goes
across my gaze
and vanishes in night,
engaged elsewhere
while I stand
with clown nose
hawking post cards
of women I have known.
she comes and goes
through this solitude
on undeviating wings.
“Follow me” she says
then disappears
into the room beyond
the waiting room
where I cannot follow.
Poem and artwork by clinock.
A jigsaw from Japan – the image of ‘The Gleaners’ – a painting by Millet (1814-1875). The painting’s title relates so perfectly to the process involved in ‘gleaning’ the translated instructions:
glean [gleen]
verb (used with object)
1. to gather slowly and laboriously, bit by bit.
2. to gather (grain or the like) after the reapers or regular gatherers.
3. to learn, discover, or find out, usually little by little or slowly.
The translation of this puzzle, (below), is a puzzle in itself - so surreal that I couldn’t resist a poem, (below below), another level of translation…
When Peace is insufficient
as discovered in translation,
please one, and confirm
the number of peace
in the very beginning.
It groups as parts
of a small class of parts
so note keeping enough
so not as to lose it.
Remember,
it becomes easy to unite
if it unites from the peace
of the outside frame.
This is important.
As for outside frame peace,
one place or two places
have flattened.
Please note
there are a lot
of mistakes.
Do not set forcibly
when there is loosening
or it is tight.
It assembles while dividing.
This also is important.
Each colour that looks like peace
paint, without irregularity
to bury the joint part,
under the surface,
with the sponge of the
attachment and crowd.
Please pay attention.
When peace is insufficient
please search for surroundings
well,
once now.
This is essential.
And sorry to trouble you,
to note the report
of correct peace.
After it sends back,
we will send the peace
at once.
If only it were that simple….
Found object and poem by clinock.
‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog my intention is to present 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.
mirrors
can be
windows
too
through which we catch ourselves
in the moment of seeing ourselves
in the act of meeting ourselves
catching the moment of
seeing ourselves
caught
in
the
act.
Poem and photo by clinock.
Posted in Art, Photography, poetry, The Inner Path
Tagged art and poetry, light, looking and seeing, meeting oneself, Photography, reflections, urban illusions, windows & mirrors
who is this mystery
behind the weird
shaped window?
is she the artist
or the portrait?
why the incongruous
splodges of earth tones
and greens?
is that a cat
roughly made?
and what
oh what
is behind the curtains?
Poem and photo by clinock.
There is mystery here
induced by light,
not difficult or rare,
a pedestrian sight,
yet magical
none the less,
drawing the eyes
deep into dream.
It’s a sleight of vision,
a riddle of the gods,
solved by
a gazing child
who can’t let go
of this sunlit puzzle.
Lost in this tableau
of reflected thoughts
he is found in wonder.
Poem and photo by clinock.
Photo: Store window. Main St. Vancouver.
Posted in Art, Photography, poetry, The Inner Path
Tagged art and poetry, light, looking and seeing, lost in a dream, Photography, reflections, urban illusions, window art
Joan Margaret Clinock. 1915 – 2004.
In January 2004 I was in my mother’s house in England. She had recently died, age 88, and being a single child I was sorting out her home alone. I sat at her dining room table, the same table I had sat at so often as a child, and wrote this for her. I post it today in love and memory of love given without limits for so many years. I will always miss you mum, always.
The cyclamen still blooms
on your windowsill,
in colours of a Canadian sunrise
covered in tears of rain.
I want to tell you how beautiful it is
but I can’t find you.
I suppose that I am an orphan now,
an old gray child crying for his mum
in a house empty of you.
Yet I embrace your life in me
as once you embraced my life in you.
I am who I am because of you
and who you were.
And all you gave to me
I now give to my sons.
And they, in turn, will pass it on.
And so the circle is unbroken
and you will live in us.
When I was a child
you dispersed my shadows
with your light
and my sadness with your smile.
And after every storm
You were my sunshine.
You hated cold and dark,
loved the sun and long summer days.
But although it is winter
on this windy coast
you would like it here today
because the warmth and brightness
of your dearest friends
and their flowers of farewell
have touched this place with spring.
Soon you will join your husband
under the wild Cornish sky
that you both loved so much,
and your spirits will be free
to wander the ancient sea and hills
in the wind that lifts gulls
above the rocks and heather.
And I will think of you
there together
and be still.
Posted in Photography, poetry, The Inner Path
Tagged Mother's day, Poetry, remembering mum, sadness
Wave on little man,
wave on
against broken blues
and black beyonds,
wave on.
Stalwart your banner,
loyal your stance
against the cutting edge
of change and
the coming collapse.
Wave on little man,
against smashed
forgotten fragments
in a condo garden.
Photo and Poem by clinock. Thanks and credit to unknown stencil artist.
Photo: Stencil on condemned building window. East Vancouver, BC.
ghosts sleep behind glass,
memories confused
by labyrinths of iron,
spines and cheeks
leaving no trace.
passing this window,
“Dreams for Sale”
my face reflects
on haunted pillows.
I pause – and walk on.
Photo and Poem by clinock.
Photo: Bed in store window. Main Street, Vancouver, Canada.
Posted in Art, Photography, poetry
Tagged Clinock's art and poetry, clinock's photography, ghosts, haunted bed, iron bed frame, reflections on dreams, window art
