Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Residue... Hail Lee Lozano...writings..
CONTAINED BECOMINGS OF AN ARTISTS PROCEDURE, TO VIEW IMMANENCE AND EVENTS THROUGH RITUAL,THIS RESIDUE,WHAT IS LEFT,REMAINDER, IS RAW AND OPEN,LIGHT AND DARK.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Agostino Carracci... Satyr
The Satyr Mason 1578
I make leaf-circlets
and a crown of honey-flowers
for thy throat;
where the amber petals
drip to ivory,
I cut and slip
each stiffened petal
in the rift
of carven petal:
honey horn
has wed the bright
virgin petal of the white
flower cluster: lip to lip
let them whisper,
let them lilt, quivering:
Most holy Satyr,
like a goat,
hear this our song,
accept our leaves,
love-offering,
return our hymn;
like echo fling
a sweet song,
answering note for note.
Holy Satyr by Hilda Doolittle 1922
and a crown of honey-flowers
for thy throat;
where the amber petals
drip to ivory,
I cut and slip
each stiffened petal
in the rift
of carven petal:
honey horn
has wed the bright
virgin petal of the white
flower cluster: lip to lip
let them whisper,
let them lilt, quivering:
Most holy Satyr,
like a goat,
hear this our song,
accept our leaves,
love-offering,
return our hymn;
like echo fling
a sweet song,
answering note for note.
Holy Satyr by Hilda Doolittle 1922
Labels:
Agostino Carracci,
art,
Hilda Doolittle,
Holy Satyr,
paintings,
poems,
satyr
Friday, January 29, 2010
Now and then....Collage Animation
Stan Vanderbeek 1959
Yoshihiro Haku and Sachiko Hiraoka 2009
Labels:
animation,
art,
collage,
sachiko hiraoka,
Stan Vanderbeek,
yoshihiro haku
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
may butterflies rise from yr grave every year..for Garcia Lorca...Rob Plath..poem
Louis le Brocquy - Lorca
may butterflies rise from yr grave every year..
by Rob Plath
a soldier pumped
two bullets
into yr buttocks
for being a queer
two bullets
into yr buttocks
for being a queer
then another
into the branches
of yr lung
for being
a poet
into the branches
of yr lung
for being
a poet
another word
for dirty communist
to them
for dirty communist
to them
you were their worst enemy
w/unplugged asshole
& wide open singing
lung bags
w/unplugged asshole
& wide open singing
lung bags
i imagine yr
assassin bragging
about it afterwards
to his comrades
assassin bragging
about it afterwards
to his comrades
then later that night
giving his wife a good
hetero fascist fuck
giving his wife a good
hetero fascist fuck
his dick standing like
a middle finger
to commie faggot poets
a middle finger
to commie faggot poets
his torso full of
fearful gears
moving w/precision
over her body
fearful gears
moving w/precision
over her body
his clenched homophobic
cheeks thrusting
like a pair of iron fists
bloodless knuckles
cheeks thrusting
like a pair of iron fists
bloodless knuckles
giving it to her once
for himself
& once for the gang
for himself
& once for the gang
the regime
Labels:
art,
Federico García Lorca,
Louis le Brocquy,
poems,
poetry,
prints,
Rob Plath
Friday, January 22, 2010
Johann Joachim Becher...Physica subterranea ... 1669
Johann Joachim Becher (6 May 1635 – October 1682), was a German physician, alchemist, precursor of chemistry, scholar and adventurer
"... chemists are a strange class of mortals, impelled by an almost insane impulse to seek their pleasure among smoke and vapor, soot and flame, poisons and poverty, yet among all these evils I seem to live so sweetly, that [I'd die before I'd] change places with the Persian King..." JB
Labels:
art,
books,
illustration,
Johann Joachim Becher
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Leonor Fini... Sphinx & Charles Baudelaire...Beauty..poem and drawings...
Beauty
I am fair, O mortals! like a dream carved in stone,
And my breast where each one in turn has bruised himself
Is made to inspire in the poet a love
As eternal and silent as matter.
And my breast where each one in turn has bruised himself
Is made to inspire in the poet a love
As eternal and silent as matter.
On a throne in the sky, a mysterious sphinx,
I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans;
I hate movement for it displaces lines,
And never do I weep and never do I laugh.
Poets, before my grandiose poses,
Which I seem to assume from the proudest statues,
Will consume their lives in austere study;
For I have, to enchant those submissive lovers,
Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful:
My eyes, my large, wide eyes of eternal brightness!
Charles Baudelaire - The Flowers of Evil
Translation by William Aggeler
Labels:
art,
Charles Baudelaire,
drawings,
Leonor Fini,
poems,
poetry,
writers
Friday, January 15, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Insomnia or the Devil at Large... Henry Miller ... drawings
Drawings by Henry Miller, made during a bout of Insomnia 1965/66
“They reflect the varying moods of three in the morning. Some were sprinkled with bird seed, some with songes, and some with mensonges. Some dripped from the brush like pink arsenic; others clogged up on me and came out as welts and bruises. Some were
organic, some inorganic, but they were all intended to lead their own life in the garden of Abracadabra.”
MORE >>>> Henry Miller
Labels:
art,
drawings,
Henry Miller,
writers
Friday, January 8, 2010
Steffi Grant... A Vision...
A vision of elemental spirits
Labels:
art,
drawings,
magick,
occult,
Steffi Grant
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
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