Category: creativity

The value of art

Accept imperfection and it find what is of value

http://www.janandcoragordon.co.uk/

I recall now that I first came across ideas about gaps when studying art and what stops us from making it. Jan and Cora Gordon’s writing and Marion Milner’s books mention this.Even the best artists must have the experience of working on and even completing a work and finding that it is not what they had hoped for.

Certainly for beginners it can be very depressing and may be the reason why many people who did poorly at art in school never try again… as they felt this gap very painfully.But as with many of the painful aspects of life,it is better to accept and honour the gap.Strangely when we look back at some of our work we may find it has much more in it than we saw at the time.But wanting some pre-conceived notion of perfection we fail to notice the value of what we did in reality.

That may be true on other realms of life such as personal relationships.So don’t get divorced yet!

.

Turner’s late work was thought by some to be a sign of madness.This doesn’t mean our daubs are the next great advance in Art or Writing…. but we may need to be more tolerant of ourselves and our productions whilst also being genuinely critical or open to other’s helpful criticism.

Note on Marion Milner

9″She was also a talented painter, and in On Not Being Able to Paint (1950) she wrote an important book on creativity and on some of the forces that prevent it. As with so much of her writing, she was not afraid to reveal herself. Her authorial voice was itself an instance of her view that “the internal gesture needed is to stand aside”. The Hands of the Living God (1969), an account of a 20-year analysis, also focused on drawings and doodles, this time her patients’.” From her obituary

Moving equilibrium

The fatal equilibrium of death

The lonely people pondering on their wrath

The dancers on the ice maintain their flow

Discipline and time love to bestow

The world’s hollow like a shell

I’m in deep now,never been this deep before
The world’s hollow like a shell and I’m out its door.
In so deep, the ocean has its own startled floor.
I’m down,down.down.never been so dark , so )

I can’t rightly tell how I got where I am
I think I had an accident,fell over, then I swam.
Sometimes it’s a loss, be times it’s my man.
I guess I only do it cos I know some folk can.

I don’t know if the joy is worth the pain
Would I choose to relive if, I was born again?
The deep joy is the amazing gain.
But the sorrow is damn sad, let’s admit it plain.

I’m in deep and it’s over my head
What was I thinking of,when I fell out of that bed?
I look up and the sea’s so turquoise like that mist is red
When we get good and mad and wish some loon was dead.

At first, it was all just black,black pain
But from the bottom of the well, I looked up with awed love again.
That’s when I recalled,feelings are deep and sane
Joy is much greater when we’re in the deep,deep zone.

I dunno if I’m ever comin’ out.
We can’t control it,ain’t that what life’s all about?
I’ll never love with innocence again,nor not feel doubt.
But I’m no teapot and the devil ain’t got my spout.

I’m swimming and the ocean’s so mysteriously bright
Down here we don’t have no day nor no night
Fish nudge me with big grins and teeth white
Sea flowers fondle me and whisper,turn off that light

Coming in my direction

I’m waiting for it to hit me.

It’s far away but it’s coming

It’s a dagger with a sharp point

Thrown by some errand angel

It’s a flat pebble thrown by a fisherman

It’s a stiletto heel broken off someone’s shoe

It’s flying through the air and its destiny is my heart.

When it hits me….. the shock will be unmeasurable.

Don’t go don’t go I can’t believe you’re going to go.

Now they say you’ve gone but it was only in a text message there was no phone call.

Someone far away fired a shot

The bullet’s not found me yet but it’s got all the technology needed to find it’s true destination

So I’m like a dead Man walking

It must have hit me already but I haven’t felt it yet but one day this numbness will wear off

You see I’m dead already but my legs keep moving my hands still floating in the air

Still breathing and then the slow collapse

It was only a few minutes but it seems like hours,.

Then I’ll be with her again

I knew she would die but why did she have to shoot me right at the end like that?

The world itself has cracks across

Infinite the drop between one step and the next.

Is it better not to look down?

We can’t control everything.

There’s a crack,a smack a loud thwack.

It was just me passing

Essex cornfields

Saturday was shopping then a walk Epping,Ongar,Finchingfield by car

Reading book reviews and chewing stalks

Buttercups and meadows,Henry Moore

Driving back from Chelmsford, cornfields flamed

Smoke and fire and earth, the sun dismayed

Farmers working hard, a harvest, grain

The sky through mist a cobalt blue displayed

Standon with its fords and wandering cows

Little rivers,Essex, flowing down

The Stort joins with the Lea,a gurglimg sound

Water for the Thames and mossy ground

The earth feels like my body sacrificed

The artist’s canvas stretched ,a matricide

Essex cornfields

Saturday was shopping then a walk Epping,Ongar,Finchingfield by car

Reading book reviews and chewing stalks

Buttercups and meadows,Henry Moore

Driving back from Chelmsford, cornfields flamed

Smoke and fire and earth, the sun dismayed

Farmers working hard, a harvest, grain

The sky through mist a cobalt blue displayed

Standon with its fords and wandering cows

Little rivers,Essex, flowing down

The Stort joins with the Lea,a gurglimg sound

Water for the Thames and mossy ground

The earth feels like my body sacrificed

The artist’s canvas stretched ,a matricide

Astonished into bud

The journey to the heart is graced by love.
And those who need to seek obey their call.
Though virtue and her graces smile above,
We see steep paths ahead with risky falls

With willingness to cross fields deep in mud,
To struggle through the tangled wind bent wood.
Our soul within knows when there’s latent good;
Recalls old trees astonished into bud.

As flowers spring up to gently grace our toes
Encouragement is with much joy received;
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our souls were not deceived.

For Virgil,fortune favours steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

There’s no foe

The mind inhabits every body cell

When we’re tense the mind is tense as well

Thoughts are strangled choked the mind is crazed

All our body cells this crush obey.

Suspicion narrows eyes. And purses lips.

As we tense, the mind itself will shrink

Turning violent, hearts attacked by pain

No good thoughts are nurtured by this strain

How can we relax and trust once more?

The war dead moan, the Jews scream, Ariel roars.

Feel the pain precisely, let it go

Warmer heart remember there’s no foe

Plato on drugs? I don’t believe it;I do believe it

PHILOSOPHY_AND_LITERATURE_01

http://becomingintegral.com/2013/09/19/was-plato-on-drugs/t

This is not a book but a blog.It’s really fascinating.not just th above article but for all its other thoughtful

discussions.If you are not a philosopher still many pieces are understandable to the general reader.

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How would we like to dress?

Why should we want to wear a certain kind of clothing just because some famous person wears it?

Perhaps you don’t have any ideas of your own about what you’d like to wear. But these people may not have chosen the clothes themselves. They may be being paid to wear them by some firm or designer. They may not even like them

So stop looking at other people Do you not know what you like?

You may like to think about a few relevant possibilities.

For myself I like to wear colours that appeal to me I like blue. I used to like very bright colours and I still do up to a point. Does colour matter to you you?

Then wear muted colours such as grey especially if you are going out. Initial muted colour

Do you like to be inconspicuous in the street?

If it does not you could dress ini black or another neutral colour. Some people do this anyway because it makes life simpler. Other people wear just two or three colours like beige black and light cream.

Restricting the colours to two or three means that you will never have a problem matching clothes together

Similarly do you like prints and patterns or plain colours? It’s much easier if you leave out prints. You can get a scarf which has several colours in if you feel that would be fun to wear.

You need some shoes. You will probably already have got these but they should not clash with your clothing colours

Di you u fancy wearing bright red shoes and you know that’s what you want regardless of what other people wear ? Choose what you want

If you are are living on a small income you may not be able to wear exactly what you want but you can get near it.

If you have got clothes and you hate them, sell them on eBay or give them for charity

Save the money I’m sure you’ll find something you like later.

You don’t have to dress in avway that is dictated to you.

It’s better to enjoy your own choices f you have no interest in clothes just buy things in one colour and forget about it

Or go to charity shops and see if you can find something more interesting add to your very simple and plain outfits

We should try to enjoy as much of life as we can whether it is having good friends finding a job that we like or simply having fun bwith our clothing.

My watercolour love

Joseph_Mallord_William_Turner_-_Norham_Castle,_Sunrise_-_WGA23182

Though our colours mingled, the earliest remain.
Two watercolor paintings without frames,
Became one picture over time,
Yet two of us still there.
Our colours blended naturally,
Now all the hues are shared.

I love your colours flowing into mine:
Together they have made a new design.
A Watercolor painted by the rain;
We shall go, but our Watercolor Love will still remain

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Soil

I am feeling for the many roots that curve beneath the soil

Where insects scuttle silently, where kindly beetles toil.

Roots keep huge trees from falling down,an anchor and a friend

They feed the trees and crops and flowers in spring when life expands.

I place my feelers out to learn

what other life forms know.

Everywhere the mind can think

imagination goes

Photo by Jill Burrow on Pexels.com

Soup

Photo by Tobias Bju00f8rkli on Pexels.com

The parsnip soup was delicate yet strong..

Here the flavour lingers on my tongue

We had chopped fruit and ice cream in a tub

All I need is he whom I still love.

I need to be caressed but not too much

I shall beat off strangers with a crutch

For women are no longer victims of strong men

Hear my words and write them with a pen

Let the good

Do not wear a bin bag in the snow

You need sheepskin boots on an ice flow

Better think of summer and bright lights

The sun will rise and set but not at night

Blakeny is in Norfolk which we love

Air,sky sea will mingle for our good

Moving equilibrium

The fatal equilibrium of death

The lonely people pondering on their wrath

The dancers on the ice maintain their flow

Discipline and time love to bestow

Authenticity is invaluable

Jim Jarmusch

“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery – celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from – it’s where you take them to.”
― Jim Jarmusch
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Teachers who touch our hearts

Leaves are the placet  along with roots where communication happens.When we grow beans the plants at first have just two leaves and need warmth and light to develop…. and so do human beings,We need food as well.
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THE CAMBRIDGE INTRODUCTION TO SYLVIA PLATH

 There has more been written,probably, about Sylvia Plath than any other poet of the last century.Much of it is  various  attempts at her  biography.The focus was on her actual life and its events.I  had only read “Daddy” and “lady Lazarus” but lately I read more from her collected works and I am now impressed with her poetic gift and her hard work developing it.Perhaps she worked too hard.Who can say?
So I was ready to read some critical evaluation of her writing.This book is excellent if a little short. I found it quite easy to read even though I have no academic training in literature.

There is a summary of her life but the main focus is on each  phase of her writing For someone of  only 30  when she  died she underwent remarkable transitions and growth of her poetic mind.I am also now re ading her prose which I had dismissed.

I recommend this wholeheartedly.There is another volume “The Cambridge Companion to Sylvia Plath”

Here is a poem I like especially the last verse

Nick and the Candlestick

By Sylvia Plath

I am a miner. The light burns blue.
Waxy stalactites
Drip and thicken, tears
The earthen womb
Exudes from its dead boredom.
Black bat airs
Wrap me, raggy shawls,
Cold homicides.
They weld to me like plums.
Old cave of calcium
Icicles, old echoer.
Even the newts are white,
Those holy Joes.
And the fish, the fish—
Christ! they are panes of ice,
A vice of knives,
A piranha
Religion, drinking
Its first communion out of my live toes.
The candle
Gulps and recovers its small altitude,
Its yellows hearten.
O love, how did you get here?
O embryo
Remembering, even in sleep,
Your crossed position.
The blood blooms clean
In you, ruby.
The pain
You wake to is not yours.
Love, love,
I have hung our cave with roses,
With soft rugs—
The last of Victoriana.
Let the stars
Plummet to their dark address,
Let the mercuric
Atoms that cripple drip
Into the terrible well,
You are the one
Solid the spaces lean on, envious.
You are the baby in the barn.
 
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A person is not a pet

Some people keep birds as pets.To me it seems so  cruel… a bird should fly.I suppose making any animal a pet may be wrong but some want to be.Dogs and cats no doubt were better off living near humans… so they moved closer.And the Egyptians worshipped cats .Some people treat their spouse  like  a pet.But it’s a bad idea.People may enjoy it at first but no-one can be the propertyof someone else however benevolent.Control is not loving even if you shower them with gifts,caresses and kisses.We need to belong but also to be free….to a reasonable extent….I know some people get sexually aroused by games of dominance and submission but it’s not good to be like that all time,in my view.I know books like Fifty shades of grey sell.But why do we need others fantasies?Why not use our own minds?

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Sheep as pets

Have you ever considered keeping a sheep as a pet? they don’t appear to bite or scratch,they would keep you warm ay night,they would not be in danger if you rolled onto them…I am unsure how much a sheep weighs….imagine wakening up and being between the woolly legs of a sheep ,held against its fleece.just what you need in a recession

As for grooming I am unsure what wild sheep do.They don’t have baths.Do they bathe in rivers?Do they  leave it to nature?

And if things got really bad……….I hate to say this,but you could eat it!It would last for ages.I  know it sounds cruel but it would have had a lovely life in your garden eating your lawn!

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By all means paint

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