Vivem em nós inúmeros;
Se penso ou sinto, ignoro
Quem é que pensa ou sente.
Sou somente o lugar
Onde se sente ou pensa. *

(Ricardo Reis: Fernando Pessoa)









The Other


Insanity lies waiting
i open the door
voices from the tunnel
call me home
beckon me to join
the collective I AM
a convivial chorus
useless to deny
and so i embrace
voices whose embrace
recalls me to the mother womb
where i float helplessly
among waters of words.
------------------------
*Endless selves live within us.
When I think or feel I question
Who it is that thinks or feels.
I am nothing more than the place
Where things are thought or felt.

"Indeed, Pessoa's grip on his own self was so tenuous that at one point he took to writing to his old teachers and schoolmates in Durban, posing as the psychiatrist Faustino Antunes, asking for their opinion on the mental state of his patient, Fernando Pessoa who, depending on the letter, had either committed suicide or was under restraint at an asylum. Having no idea who he was, Pessoa hoped to gain some insight from those who knew him."

http://www.nthposition.com/themagicalworldof.php


(Image: Kurt Schwitters, Spring Picture)

kandinsky

Seeing like Kandinsky

How to—discuss
Talk about—something
Anything—“non-linear”
Like—Simultaneity?

Multiple—POV’s?
Les Demoiselles—d’Avignon?
African masks—classic nudes?
Cubist—Barcelona boyfriends?

Kandinsky’s—paintings?
Mysterious—Composition #7?
All the—improvisations?
Leading up—to it?

Parataxis—parallel views?
Instead of—perspectives?
Narrative—without closure?
Cleavage—three ways?

http://www.snarke.com/2008/10/man-with-x-ray-eyes.html

The fog creeps
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg






The Fog Creeps
---while Loneliness breaks down the door
with bludgeons in both hands
powers a two-fisted punch to the gut
Loneliness locks himself inside
leaves his junkyard dog
to man the door
no fog of love here
only an empty rage
at those who would enter quietly
slinking about with a soft touch.

Sandberg waits at the docks
embracing the wet gray
weeping as she dissipates
creeping silent and away
---on little cat feet.


(Photo: Stranger in Fog, Daniel Seguin, 2005)

PANIC

Autumn---kerfuffle

birds---in the yard

scuffle---over desiccated corn.

(Photo, October 1929, New York Stock Exchange)

Kandinsky-Gris Paris 1906

The previous post led me to spend quite an enjoyable day exploring the works of Kandinsky and Gris. There is a natural progression that leads from the works of Monet up through Van Gogh, Matisse, Picasso.

Kandinsky knew Picasso. He was in Paris in 1906-1907 and later was instrumental in arranging an exhibit of Picasso's work in Munich. Gris moved to Paris in 1906. I don't find that they knew each other, but back when we were reading Stein, it seemed to me that the circle was fairly small. It seems they must have met.



Kandinsky's art tells a lot about his journey. The early works are reminiscent of Russian folk art. In works beginning around 1909, after Paris, there is a shift in Kandinsky's use of color. (View with Railway and Castle, 1909) At this time, he begins to use color independent of subject. His palette seems to be influenced by the ideas of the Fauvists...which brings us back to Gris and Picasso.








The next three images are interesting for me from a compare and speculate point of view.

First, Kandinsky's 1909 Grunggasse in Murnau.







Next is his Improvisation 10, 1910, which seems to revisit the Grungasse, at least in regards to the blue house motif.

























And now for the speculation. Here is Gris' Landscape at Ceret, 1913.

kandinsky

kandinsky

overhead—yours

underhead—mine

in-between—ours

I was reading a poem in
Books r us and looking
At Hoffman’s Kandinsky*
painting when all of a
sudden the flat surface
of the painting went 3-D
on me and it turned into
a “room” with lots of
action going on—blurring
motions, squiggling little
nervous movements of
color, all sorts of things
going on—it was like
Juan Gris’ cubist Table
except it was a huge
cubist room full of stuff
that just wouldn’t quit!!!

*Wassily Kandinsky:
Komposition VII

www.snarke.com

HEROES AREN'T BORN---

Looking for a hero--
Man of Iron

with a steel-plated heart

More-Than-Man

Messiah

Calmer of all fears

Wiper of all tears

Leader of sheep.

Alpha man

Omega man
Maker of planets

Mover of Stars.

Looking for a Hero
Man of Iron

Forged in fire
Refined and built on Tragedy

Looking for a Hero

with an indestructible heart--
Humanity evidenced only
in the conflicting shards of
hope and despair
doing battle
in the corners of his

steel blue eyes.

THEY'RE BUILT.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhbeHjOxVk8&feature=related

("Heroes aren't born, they're built"..tagline "Ironman" 2008)