Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Traces of us and them.........

i am echoed
in reflections
of you, rain
remained
in reflective
puddle designs,
traced like your
face in the palm
of my hand,
distinctly drawn,
human as
a song.

Like a haiku in pictographs
a function of the brain
to seek patterns in nature


before the word was the image
an alphabet of pictures
tells a story of us and them


birds in flight
men and women dance
waves of foot steps in snow

I don't get art
I just fall into it
it leaves traces behind my eyes.

I know nothing about art.
Art is Greek to me.
Mysterious traces
Art is an undeciphered language for me
Just something that draws my eyes

I just noticed how much there is in the white on white background. Like a snow-blind hallucination. I wonder if this piece is as interesting as I think it is?
Now my eyes are drawn to the background. Do I see what I see, like a staring into a winter white out on I-90.




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Minoan Linear B

this is edit number 21 I think.

an interesting venture into primal figurine
calligraphy
carries with them a sense of the old wonder
long forgotten
flight of loons
dancing buffoons
way back when
chalk on cave was th
medium
only now
post-modern
with a flip of art deco
and some chrome
a new flag for ontario
not one you'ld wanna salute
tho
just an evocation
old wonder
essential truth

As further description.... this piece is oil on plywood...48" x 36"...the black lines are actually grooves routered into the plywood......look carefully and you will see a path meandering through that is raised blobs of paint..................

High row
glee fix.
Shooting star
souls
visible only,
via
x-ray eyes.
Dreamspines
revealed,
in shocking caricature,
clear as bells,
naked impulses,
shooting like heroin,
straight from the
heart.

x-ray eyes
I was blind
Now I see
A million miles and thirty years
Of watching Husserl's TV
And trying to read The Phenomenology of Internal Time Consciousnes
It is the phenomenology of internal space consciousness been giving me static in the attic.

Traces a case in point.
When you said it was inscribed
An epiphany
I was now with it but not here
you know I am giving up on Husserl, 140 pages read in thirty years, I don't mind googling for Greek and Latin when he uses it, it the new words he invents. Seems like where ever he went a Zen Buddhist had been there first.

So here is the deal on my A Ha momment with Traces.

cont.

Optical delusion, I looked at the image as if it was the object present in a gallery and I was looking at it in normal space which may be somewhere between my brain and the painting before me.

Shook me up so much I had to check into an art museum for a couple of hours.



I was so 2-D, I forgot I was staring into glass, my eyes lying to my mind, it was like a ghostly voice, a small quiet voice from a distant brain did a Firesign Theatre schtick that sounded like this. “Brain to mind: hello space cowboy this is ground control speaking, check it out in three D, your nose is about six inches from a dirty computer screen.”

A case of highway hypnosis.