click on image to enlarge
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
Dolorosa ... a drawing for Harry Crosby 2012
...if it were not for you...
Dolorosa 2012 ~ for Harry Crosby
The Sun in unconcealed rage
Glares down across the magic of the world
The sun within us, that sways un incalculably.
At night
Swift to the Sun
Deep imaged in my soul
But during the long day black lands
To cross
And it is faith in the incalculable sun, inner and outer, which keeps us alive.
Sunmaid
Left by the tide
I bring you a conch-shell
That listening to the Sun you may
Revive
And there is always the battle of the sun, against the corrosive acid vapour of vanity and poisonous conceit, which is the breath of the world.
Dark clouds
Are not so dark
As our embittered thoughts
Which carve strange silences within
The Sun
HARRY CROSBY ~ CHARIOT OF THE SUN
Friday, January 20, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Frank von Sepp... illustrations for Faust 1921...
click on image to enlarge
click on image to enlarge
~
Fill your heart to overflowing,
and when you feel profoundest bliss,
then call it what you will:
Good fortune! Heart! Love! or God!
I have no name for it!
Feeling is all;
the name is sound and smoke,
beclouding Heaven's glow.
MEPHISTOPHELES The modest truth I speak to thee.
If Man, the microcosmic fool, can see
Himself a whole so frequently,
Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,--
Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,
The haughty light, which mow disputes the space,
And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.
And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, however weaves,
Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves:
It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies;
By bodies is its course impeded;
And so, but little time is needed,
I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies!
If Man, the microcosmic fool, can see
Himself a whole so frequently,
Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,--
Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,
The haughty light, which mow disputes the space,
And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.
And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, however weaves,
Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves:
It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies;
By bodies is its course impeded;
And so, but little time is needed,
I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies!
from Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
previous von Sepp
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
John Singer Sargent... Orestes Pursued by the Furies...1921
click on image to enlarge
P and lead the dance of Fate!
- Lift the song that mortals hate!
- Tell what rights are ours on earth,
- Over all of human birth.
- Swift of foot to avenge are we!
- He whose hands are clean and pure,
- Naught our wrath to dread hath he;
- Calm his cloudless days endure.
- But the man that seeks to hide
- Like him, his gore-bedewèd hands,
- Witnesses to them that died,
- The blood avengers at his side,
- The Furies' troop forever stands.
Aeschylus ~ Song of the Furies
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Bhaskar Lahiri... Paintings and prints...
click on image to enlarge
The ancient civilizations of the entire world , especially that of
India, with their spectacular manifestations , create an enchantment
In me. Side by side age-old Indian philosophy , history,religion,
folk-culture, literature,folk-art,etc.stir the very core of my mind.
In every nook and corner of my home state ,West Bengal,folk climes
have its presence felt.Hence my utmost sincerity is to house those
dew and dust strewn jewels into my compositions
India, with their spectacular manifestations , create an enchantment
In me. Side by side age-old Indian philosophy , history,religion,
folk-culture, literature,folk-art,etc.stir the very core of my mind.
In every nook and corner of my home state ,West Bengal,folk climes
have its presence felt.Hence my utmost sincerity is to house those
dew and dust strewn jewels into my compositions
Bhaskar Lahiri
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