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Category: Art

To the Ancient Seaside, Again and Again

To the Ancient Seaside, Again and Again

More experiments with various brushes and their effects, and more departures. I’m closer. Closer to visions of renewal and release I once had — nearly on call. Closer to their full return. The sea is inside us all. Can a person claim that it’s more a part of them than others? And does that matter? We can make that claim, certainly. Accuracy aside, it’s not really anything that needs evidence. For the ocean within, our DNA tracings, our narrative poems,…

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Paintings in Tumult: New Departures

Paintings in Tumult: New Departures

Here are a few of my latest digital works. I’m able to utilize the pen more and more now, and that means I can paint virtually with the same hand I would in the real world. It’s still not ideal, but getting better all the time, as the Beatles once sang. In some future world, many years from now, perhaps, I’ll have a super-sized screen, a stand-up Rilkean desk, and a view of the ocean to inspire me. The wind…

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Plastic People and Their Members Only Signs

Plastic People and Their Members Only Signs

  The Commons What we can and can’t see Depends too often on what we can And can’t afford Which brings in the poor imagination To carry much of the load Far too much of that load Says that central organ Of our nature Its definition Perhaps The primordial green and yellow valley Over there with its endless Flowered meadows And spritely creatures We imagine are there Waiting to dance with us Sing with us Show us their tiny multiverse…

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The Shaman and Time’s Arrow

The Shaman and Time’s Arrow

Over the course of the next few weeks, I played Daniel-san to the Shaman’s Mr. Miyagi. He had me wash his car, weed and seed his lawn, and take his clothes to the dry-cleaner’s, among other chores. All of this struck me as a waste of time, of course, which was likely the point. Either that, or a lesson in Entropy, a word the Shaman had left out of his lessons so far. But things changed dramatically soon enough. Archery…

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The Shaman and the Coffee Shop

The Shaman and the Coffee Shop

The Second Lesson Percolates Cat Stevens sang “Morning has Broken” above us, as we sat in the corner café, with its old stone walls, its monstrous fireplace, and its unbreakable wood tables and chairs. I suddenly felt relaxed in a way that had escaped me for weeks. The Shaman looked at me quickly, saw my newfound comfort, and pushed me violently to the floor. Luckily, there was no coffee to spill yet, no cakes to fly upward into the vaulted…

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The Shaman’s Secret

The Shaman’s Secret

First Lessons Abide “Moderation in all things is terrible advice,” said the Shaman as we walked, then ran, then stood still. “All is contrast within context. If you wish to live sweet lives, take the highs and lows, embrace the deepest darkness and the most luminous visions, as if your life depended on it, because it does.”           So I asked him, as we ran, then walked, then stopped: “But moderation and mindfulness lead to balance and wisdom, so say…

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New Poetry and the Penumbra Effect

New Poetry and the Penumbra Effect

We’ve added new poetry from Joshua Bocher, Sean Howard, and Avery Tuck. Please leave comments on our Contact Us page, if you’re so inclined. Recent readings/rereadings include the aforementioned Maggie Doherty’s The Equivalents, which was excellent. It makes a fine pairing too with Square Haunting, by Francesca Wade, which I read last year. Group bios about unfairly neglected women in the arts help set the record straight and expand our horizons in the bargain. Just finished The Lamplighters, by Emma…

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Supermoons and Ode to Hendrix

Supermoons and Ode to Hendrix

Okay, so, yeah. It’s entirely subjective. The best of. The best that. The top of the heap. Towering over us all like ancient mountains. The pinnacles and centers and foundations of the Sublime, the extraordinary, the heat from a thousand suns and so on. Who was the best? And what stands out amidst their own medleys of genius, as we climb ever higher and higher? As in, among those deathless glories, those white hot suns, which work rates as the…

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First Gatherings and other True Myths

First Gatherings and other True Myths

I try to simplify things somewhat with this group, especially The Mermaid. Even when I painted in the real world, aeons ago, it could be said that over-painting was a trap I couldn’t always avoid. Thinking a bit more of this color here and another shadow there would make it all work, finally! More often than not, “too much of a good thing” prevailed. And sometimes, there was . . . mud. Less is more isn’t just a hackneyed phrase….

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Trilunar Phases and Cosmic Debris

Trilunar Phases and Cosmic Debris

Have been productive along the artistic front lately, though that old black magic, inspiration, seems to come and go. But I’m pretty happy overall with my progression these days, taking more and more chances with media and medium. The latter is the message, or so I’ve heard. The two Cosmic Debris paintings are possibly the biggest departures from previous efforts, and made primarily in Gimp. I like the direction #34 is taking me, especially. Have figured out that I can…

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