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A jpg of an old painting that inspired a poem....

30+ some years ago, I saw a picture of a painting that inspired me to write a poem. The poem has been modified a few times down through the years, but the existential angst that inspired it certainly came from my reaction to that pictue. I could not find the picture in recent years; I didn't recall who painted the painting, nor what book I saw the picture in. Now, thanks to some imaginative googling, I have found it, and here it is...




Please click to play mp3 audio file of me reading the poem

When quakes shall root out foundings to the core,
When bold Abora shakes with cholic roar,
Then let the one in Abyssinia weep
That man so rashly lays him down to sleep.

How small a loss it were to lose a race
Of feeble mind and self-deceiving face,
Who write their songs with fingers in the sand
And like Sir Spens, go walking on the strand.

Yet still a pity should we lose our hope,
Questing, ever questing, time always our foe...

Before the solemn eyes of aged Pope
Man holds the last spectacular at bay,
No more we weep; the moon is full again
Today; Eternity is then tomorrow.

Enter the Real...

Enter the real...

I have a feeling that we are dealing with real things now.

The Cure for Regret; a Mixed Metaphor

Sometimes I think we are mostly pre-determined. Like I keep making the same mistakes over and over, in different circumstances. We think we create our reality by making constant decisions amongst endless choices, but in reality we follow the script, like twins separated at birth.

When we're born we are data. In the end, we are like processed information, processed by interaction with others and our environment. We are 99.9% robotic, and 0.1% existential creativity. But you can't savor the creativity, because it's all mixed up with the other 99.9%. So savor the whole thing, or savor nothing at all.

the Cave

"God knows there's a heaven
God knows its out of sight
God knows we can get there even if we got to crawl a million miles by candlelight..."

Bob Dylan

it was out under a cliff one day
that I learned a lesson.

From out of no where arose a thunder storm from hell that threatened my very existence.

Grandpa sought and found shelter under the highest, but briefest cliff you ever saw.

The thunder and rain swelled up from the very ground, the lightening crashed loud on every side.

Only minutes and it was gone. I didn't even feel foolish, not one little bit, even if the calm clear blue sky now mocked my fears. I knew what I'd seen and what I'd felt, and it was all right by me, man. Grandpa could ask me to tell that story time and again, and I'd just do it. Sometimes your pride is swallowed up by your gratitude.

That night, I dreamed a big cave opened up for me. Or rather, a small opening opened up into a surprisingly big cave. At the far end, I thought I found a treasure, no, when I touched it, or thought I would, it opened up into another, darker cave. But at the far end, a brighter treasure, a precious archaeological, anthropological mother lode. I can see it still...

the cave of damascus, purple velvet and all, and it jangled in my mind, like indian artifacts of an old chieftain washed smooth in the river bed

Some times candles look brighter in the dark...

"On the rising curve
You can test the strength of every nerve
You don't get anything you don't deserve
Where we were born in time"

Bob Dylan, both lyric fragments from the "Under the Red Sky" album. Worth listening to. A little out of date, OK, but have you heard the news????

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Identity

there is something beyond
the borders of my ego
it is not mystical, it is not natural
it is what it will be and always was

if my fathers bore the weight of karma
and my brethren the weight of sin
then my children shall fly as eagles
some glad morning

Artifacts and Angels

The picture to the left above is of a painting of John the Baptist by Carravaggio, an artist of the Italian Renaissance. John made the way straight for the Lord, eating locusts and honey. Herod had him beheaded at the request of Salome.

Next is a picture of a Chinese statue of Kuan Yin, a Bodhissatva, in other words, one who attains the state of Enlightenment, but, rather than entering Nirvana as a Buddha, takes a vow to not enter Nirvana until he/she has helped obtain the enlightenment of all living things, in other words, the entire world and all people.

Both pictures are marred by artifacts caused by the photographer's lack of skill, putting glare from a camera flash on them, especially the glare on successive folds of the poster containing the picture of the Kuan Yin statue.

Zoroaster was a Persian Prophet who founded a religion that originated many concepts later incorporated into Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. These concepts are often known in English by words borrowed from the Persian, such as "angel" and "paradise". Zoroaster taught that there is a war between good and evil, and that one should choose the good.

Much later, Nietzche wrote "Thus Spake Zarathustra" and talked about Supermen and Beyond Good and Evil. Nietzche bemoaned the effects of Semitic religions on European civilization, preferring to hark back to Greek and Persian values.

Later still, Richard Strauss wrote a tone poem called "Also Spake Zarathustra". This music was chosen by Stanley Kubrick to be the theme song for his movie adaptation of Arthur Clark's novel "2001: a Space Odyssey".

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the Centaur

These are my two dogs, Lucky and Lucy. Lucky, a short hair Jack Russel Terrier is lucky we picked him, lucky we kept him, and lucky to be alive. He is 10 years old, originally the runt of his litter, we picked him although he was abnormally shy. I still recall how the only way I could get him to relax, that day when we brought him to our home for the first time, was to put him snuggled up inside my armpit while we both took a nap on the sofa. After we moved to a new city, Lucky was atacked by a wild animal and almost died. Lucy, a long haired Jack Russel Terrier, came along a little later. I sometimes call her Lucifer because of the mischief she gets into. Once, she attacked Lucky and again put him in the hospital.

Like Lucky and Lucy, I am part animal. I can not deny the part of me that is animal in nature. I eat, sleep, have animal metabolism and characteristics.

Yet within me I recognize a spark of something else, something I will call a divine spark. Maybe this is a reflection of something from outside myself. Maybe people have evolved a consciousness that is the first thing in the physical universe that can recognize that spark of divinity.

Did that divine spark not exist before it evolved in humans, or before humans evolved the ability to recognize it? I can not offer proof, but I choose to believe that what we might call the divine spark (without realizing what it really is) was always there, at least in potentiality, and thus it was pre-existent and eternal. For if it came into existence only by human evolution, then it could just as easily cease to exist if humans became extinct.

If it did pre-exist, then it is the essence, the divine eternal.

I am not that eternal, but I partake of it, I reflect it, however imperfectly.

This divine spark is present and can be seen in all people. We cannot define it, sub-divide it, or contain. It is what we mean when w use the word divinity. If it is only an artifact of evolution, then we are in a sense “creating God”. But if it pre-existed, then it represents a primordial consciousness and moving force in the universe.

We cherish the divine spark. We seek to emulate it, emphasize it, unfold its inspired virtues and traits. But we can not be wholly one with the spark, for we are part animal also, and the animal part, the evolved part, is what finally obtained the ability recognize the divine spark.

I can not deny the animal that is part of me. But I can admire and worship the divine spark that I recognize.

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the Wall

The Wall is real. It exists. It seperates us from experiences that should be ours, that are right within our grasp...



...the road not taken...

This nature center is within an easy walking distance from the front door of the house I have lived in for the last ten years...the longest I have lived in any one house in my adult life. I only discovered it, though, this summer; right before I must move away for good....due to the contingencies of postmodern life...

This nature center was the site of an old water mill. The painting below is of a different old mill, built by my great great grandfather and his sons. Call it a picture of a picture, and of a completely different mill, just for misdirection, don't you know....

speaking of pictures of pictures, the two shots below were taken by me, a long time ago, on my first business trip to Europe, of Stonehenge. I used a disposable camera bought on the spot. I did not sleep on the plane, I had been up for 48 hours in fact, and when my host picked me up at Heathrow, he asked me what I wanted to see. I said Stonehenge, and we had just enough time to stop by in a mad dash before our first appointment. At the time, they let you go right up to the stones. Soon thereafter, it was fenced off and one can now not get anywhere near as close.

Hey, I wonder what delights are within an easy walk from your front door, but are hidden by the Wall ...

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PostModernMan in Search of an Identity: Who am I and What am I Doing Here?

I feel that we today must play many roles. New roles, old roles, in between roles. We are good at picking up new roles, but it is hard to integrate them into a whole.

I feel the need to express something of what this is like. I come at it from a fairly typical point of view, but I am a male American. I thought of using PostModernFolk to avoid gender specificity, but I am who I am.

Change happens so fast nowadays. I have read that prior to Shakespeare, no literary character changed persona in mid course. Characters were more static and well defined. Shakespearean characters actively considered their inner conditions and made conscious changes. Of course, Homer might protest that Odysseus did as well.

But now we are beyond that. Maybe not beyond good and evil, but definitely beyond simplicity. We are only too aware of the different world views found amongst people of different cultures. Different religious views, different social roles, different mores. Different ways of relating to the world. Different ways of being human.

But in the midst of all this, how do we find an identity, what some might call a soul? Is it even important? This is what I want to explore.

Oh, I love the technology, but at heart I am a poet. Not a good one perhaps. I have explored poetry techniques all my life but I can only write poetry by forgetting all that and going with the zen or satori of the moment.

I am going through a period of maximum change and stress right now, but with my few spare moments and brain cycles I find a need to pour myself out and try to express something.

Watch out.

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ArtBlog

This ArtBlog will be an expression from the point of view of a prototypical Postmodern Man. People in this day and time have something to say, but it ususaloly gets lost in teh shuffle.

I suppose I should add a few words of explanation to clarify my comments. I will continue to do all the things I have been doing, but in addition I have this idea of an ArtBlog.

An ArtBlog, as I envision it, will be a vehicle for expression including photographs, videos, music, and written commentary and poetry, all in a unified and coherent manner. The tools for doing this have come together for me in the right place at the right time.

I am about to purchase a Canon PowerShot S500 Digital Elph Camera. I have never owned a hobby camera before, analog or digital. My wife makes the family photos. In my business travels, I have often bought disposable cameras to take pictures and I have been very pleased with the results. For instance, years ago, when one could still walk right up to and touch the Stonehenge rocks, I took some pictures that I have blown up and framed for my company office and my home office.

I have a lot of ideas for pictures I want to take, primarily around my home and the nearby environs, but also on my many travels. Each picture I have in mind will tell a story all its now, and I will comment and write about what the photo (and/or video) means to me. This may be supplemented by associated Python' and JavaScripts.

It may not seem like much, but I am going to use all the tools of the Mac world, GarageBand, iTunes, iMovie, as well as Firedrop2 (the Python blog software I use) to create my own unique expressions.

I expect to churn out a lot of stuff, interesting I hope, within the next 3 weeks. Then, I go on a trip to China from June 20 to 30, and I will no doubt take pics as I go from south China to the north, ending at the Great Wall; I have several photos in mind already.

I'll stay in touch even while I'm in China, via the Discussion Forum if not through actual Blog posts.

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Diary of a Madman

Diary of a Madman

Henceforth, this Blog will be taking a new turn. It will become a new ArtForm, an ArtBlog.

Ultimately, the technology is a means to an end, a toolset for the times. This site is produced and operated on a Mac OS X box and a Suse Linux box, using Python, JavaScript, Firedrop2, and soon, a Canon PowerShot S500 digital camera.

Images and videos of our times will be combined with music, song and commentary.

But it will not be namby-pamby artistic commentary. It will be the anguished cries of postmodern man, lacking a stable identity, alternatively manifesting himself as chameleon, centaur, and ghost. Where it will lead no one knows; who will follow, no one can guess; but the explosion can no longer be contained.

If we lose our existing following, so be it. If our howls are lost in the oblivion of cyberspace, so be it. The record will be there for archeologists and anthropologists of the future. There is no longer any choice. The future is now.

Stay tuned.

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