July 27, 2013 Sunday Whirl #119

Enso

Calligraphy by Kanjuro Shibata XXNote:The pattern of the artist’s process is a circle.

Enso

One day

Always the first day

Always a beginning

Gather scarce resources

Jeweled colors

 Stuffed into tubes

The finest brush

Paper like skin

Revisit old ideas

Rooted in days gone bye

Weigh their strength

Count crows on the fence

Woven into patterns

Catching rain

To water the vegetation

That fills the garden

 And grows in your brain

 Left unattended

 The cells of the

 Heart are eroded

 Without the strength

 To begin again

Until the last day

 When the artist

 Breaks the circle and

 Stops

This infomation from wikipedia.   This is about the Japanese word, Enso, which means circle.
Ensō (円相) is a Japanese word meaning “circle” and a concept strongly associated with Zen. Ensō is one of the most common subjects of Japanese calligraphy even though it is a symbol and not a character. It symbolizes absolute enlightenment, strength, elegance, the universe, and the void; it can also symbolize the Japanese aesthetic itself. As an “expression of the moment” it is often considered a form of minimalist expressionist art.

In Zen Buddhist painting, ensō symbolizes a moment when the mind is free to simply let the body/spirit create. The brushed ink of the circle is usually done on silk or rice paper in one movement (Bankei, however, occasionally used two strokes) and there is no possibility of modification: it shows the expressive movement of the spirit at that time. Zen Buddhists “believe that the character of the artist is fully exposed in how she or he draws an ensō. Only a person who is mentally and spiritually complete can draw a true ensō. Some artists will practice drawing an ensō daily, as a kind of spiritual practice.”[1]

Style[edit]

Some artists paint ensō with an opening in the circle, while others complete the circle. For the former, the opening may express various ideas, for example that the ensō is not separate, but is part of something greater, or that imperfection is an essential and inherent aspect of existence (see also the idea of broken symmetry). The principle of controlling the balance of composition through asymmetry and irregularity is an important aspect of the Japanese aesthetic: Fukinsei (不均斉), the denial of perfection.
The ensō is also a sacred symbol in the Zen school of Buddhism, and is often used by Zen masters as a form of signature in their religious artwork. For more on the philosophy behind this see Hitsuzendo, the Way of the Brush or Zen Calligraphy.

Prompt: one,  wove, scarce, revisited, rain, rooted,

crows, vegetation, last, cells, eroded, strength

July 21, 2013 Sunday Whirl #118/Poets United

The Artist

Always in a state of repair

Wipe the slate

Driven to continue

Longing rings from far off

Echoes in the heart

When asked

What is so hard

About making a painting

The answer is

The beginning

The middle

The end

I think about it

I do not have the key

My only answer is

The artist must continue

She begins when she enters

The room that is her studio

No

It will not be laid out for her

No instructions

She must find her own way

Through the no-s

Brush away any tears

 

In the middle

She may have lost her way

No memory of

What inspired her

And has no idea

How to navigate

The artist often

Doesn’t even know

When the end is reached

The last chance

To speak clearly

To mesh the piece

Into a whole

Through the process

She will grow

She will become

The artist

Note:

repair, slate, time, driven, think, night, no

mesh, tear, room, longing, key, become

I have heard it declared that “painting is dead,” and yet I find I continue to paint, finding new and different ways to “say” what it is to be alive, to continue the old “dance.”   Elisabeth Tova Bailey says, “The evolution of our species is inextricably tied to making,” I say, it is tied to painting.  It records mystery, history, and the skills of our past.

Painting is a visual language.  A language that is fluent, when words are not sufficient.  It is not only about reality, but also about dreams, feelings, and things that cannot be spoken, for there are no words.  Painting comes into existence in stillness, silence and isolation.  It has the ability to be infinite in its’ meanings.  It can hold different meanings for each who sees it and still another meaning for the one who creates it.

 

_______________________________________________________________

Poets United

A Day Without You

The taste on my tongue

Is metal

Bright and shiny

My stomach

Turns

Slowly

Grudgingly

Like the workings

Of a large

Ancient clock

The blood has ceased

To flow

There is no pulse

Silent

Sadness seeps

Into every crook and cranny

Like desert seeps

Hardly noticeable

Slowly running down the face

Of a dark canyon

Colors my world grey

Long to break through

The caul

Discover sun

On my cheek

Warm as your kiss

Killing sadness

 

July 21, 2013

 

 

 

 

July 13, 2013 Sunday Whirl #117 and Poets United #158

STUDIO LIFE

A tiny voice whispers

Look around in surprise

It is my conscience

You see

The one who

Watches out for me

Together we try to

Stay out of the ditch

Make no mistake

It is easy to get off the path

Leave no trace

Of your whereabouts

Lost in your work

In the studio

 

Friends will want you to

Come out to play

They will

Leave a note

And when you see them

You will explain

You are not sick

Only dedicated

 

Seconds past uninterrupted

Then you realize

A lifetime has passed

No rest taken

And like the scientist

In the lab

You attempt to translate

The discoveries made

Detect where you have been

All your life

PROMPT:conscience, together, mistake, leave, note, sick

friends, second, rest, translate, lab, detect

_MG_0467   Fragments G&C #151  30″x30″  gouache on w/c paper

The Voice of the Painting
I look at paintings I hear voices
Some low almost inaudible
Some scream
Some so pleasant
They seem to sing

It is impossible to know
The voice the artist
Will assume
What happens
Happens
The artist takes a risk
And then he listens

The voice so comfortable
Like a finger print
It is his alone
It fits Without pressure
To be anything else
But his own

To appear naked
Without mask
No smoke and mirrors
Might scare a lesser man
Where one is taught
That it is not enough
To be oneself

I look at paintings
To climb out of myself
I become the voice
I see
I am the viewer
No one orders me

Prompt:  voices, impossible, scare, climb, risk, listen,
where, smoke, happens, pressure, might, orders

June 30, 2013 Sunday Whirl

th-2

Ruby’s Farewell Song
(Ruby Estes 1920 – 2013, Grandlake, Colorado)
At the service
Under a tent of blue
Color of the lake and sky

In a place that once was wild
On a hill over looking
The town
A favorite picnic spot for bears
Before the people came
They are gone now, too

Friends and family gathered
There
To say goodbye

A bird in flight caught my eye
At the edge of tent and sky
Flitting and dancing
I looked again
It wasn’t a bird at all
Instead a butterfly
As big as my hand
Yellow and black
Bridge between
Life and death
It seemed to know…
Waved farewell
With graceful wing

A rock was placed
“RIP”
This was no retreat
Simply the end
Of a long paved road
No longer stable

A bend in the road…
Your tiny feet took
The other path
Followed the lane
Through the meadow
Into the wood
In search of an island
You could call your own
With the people that you know
You turned and waved
And whispered
“Remember Me”

Note: Sorry my “unstable” became “No longer stable,” sometimes it just works out that way. Still, a few words to remember a woman, strong as steel, who will be remembered by all who knew her. RIP Ruby Estes, Grand Lake, Colorado.

 

 

 

bird, bridge, unstable, wild, bend, rock,

retreat, bear, lane, fallen, meadow, island

June 22, 2013 Sunday Whirl

IMG_1210_3

Questions of the Day
From front door
Across the portal
To studio
I leave no tracks
Morning begins
At the edge
Of a new day

Files heaped upon my desk
A mess
Waiting to become
Uncluttered
Arranged
Organized

Each day
A complex dance
Choreographed by me
The morning still
Except for the little fly catcher
Screaming for
 his…or her 
partner
 (Gender unknown
To me)

Each day
I wander
The studio
My enchanted forest
Like a class-room
Of my own design
Lessons drawn from life

Black tar to 
pale gaseous colors
Greyed
Gradual change
Gives direction

Each completed work
Simply answers
The questions of
The day

Prompt: tracks, edge, files, lie, mess, complex,
gas, forest, still, pale, answers, class

May 16, 2013 Sunday Whirl 113

 

 

IMG_9381

Prompt: moonshine, anything, scoop, cave, shatters, wake,

giggle, cut, load, sense, splits, crazy, chattering

HOME AGAIN
If you had been there
You would say
The chattering was crazy
Probably wake the dead

We spoke of all things
Anything
We laughed and giggled
It was like being
Struck by moonshine
(Or so I’ve heard)

Your magical garden
Like a cave sheltering
Against the heavy load
The cares of the world

Sense of time
Is split
Shatters and is broken
Only that
Moment remembered
Cut as though
A special piece of pie
Scooped and eaten

I look into your pale
Blue eyes
We are home again