Absolument ou le Vide a l'Envers 1950
At Eye Level — Paramyths 1949
Monday, April 2, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Hans Sebald Beham... Fortuna...1541
When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least.
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least.
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Sonnet 29 –William Shakespeare
previous
Hans Sebald Behan
Franz von Bayros... Venus...c1900
c 1900
....
These spirits she persuades not, nor deceives,
But none beside escape, so well she weaves
Her unseen toils; nor mortal men, nor gods
Who live secure in their unseen abodes.
She won the soul of him whose fierce delight
Is thunder--first in glory and in might.
And, as she willed, his mighty mind deceiving,
With mortal limbs his deathless limbs inweaving,
Concealed him from his spouse and sister fair,
Whom to wise Saturn ancient Rhea bare.
but in return,
In Venus Jove did soft desire awaken,
That by her own enchantments overtaken,
She might, no more from human union free,
Burn for a nursling of mortality.
For once amid the assembled Deities,
The laughter-loving Venus from her eyes
from
Homer's Hymn To Venus
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Patrick John Larabee...drawing & poem
click on image to enlarge
Janus
An Invokation of the Hidden Light
I call forth to the Eldritch Spirits of the Dark Abyss,
Thee who don the Masks of Earths Gods,
I am Enchanted as a Light in the Dark,
Illuminated Rays ever searching for You.
Fiery Serpent of Wisdom I call forth to You,
Mighty Angel of the Absolute,
O' Sacred King of the Witch-Blood True,
To the Land of Man Thou hast Come as the Leader of the Way,
Let Thine Blessed Radiance impregnate this Red Clay.
I look forward into the Past,
I awaken the Soul of my Ancestor Qayin,
I bring to light the Hidden Wisdom of Midnight's Gods,
O' Gates of mine own Self be open!
O' Light of the Soul,
O' Brilliance of the Spirit,
Forever Shimmering is the Light of the Peacock Angel,
Descending from the Heavens to Earth to Embrace
the Flesh of the Existent.
Wisdom and Truth of the Light I seek,
Ever to be found in the Gnosis of I,
Self-Knowledge of Mine Ever-Changing Ways,
Forever swirling about the Point,
As an Un-Earthed Treasure ever abiding in the Dark.
Sacred Fire of the Most High shine from Within,
Illuminate the Mind of the Wise with the Vision of the Eternal,
O' Secret Light cast by Witches Fire,
O' Secret Light cast by Sorcerer's Pyre,
Burn bright, grow high, forever alight in the Mind's Eye.
Patrick Larabee on Etsy
I am first and foremost a practitioner of the Traditional Witchcraft Mysteries as a Walker of the Lonley Road. My work is concerned with Arte of Magick and Sorcery. Secondly, I am an artist and writer who seeks to bring to light the Mysteries of the Darkness through Image and Word, Rite and Praxis.
Patricks Artists page on Facebook
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Claude Boutet...Colour spectrum ...1708
Artists were fascinated by Newton’s clear demonstration that light alone was responsible for colour. His most useful idea for artists was his conceptual arrangement of colours around the circumference of a circle, which allowed the painters’ primaries (red, yellow, blue) to be arranged opposite their complementary colors (e.g. red opposite green), as a way of denoting that each complementary would enhance the other’s effect through optical contrast.
This circular diagram became the model for many color systems of the 18th and 19th centuries. Claude Boutet’s painter’s circle of 1708 was probably the first to be based on Newton’s circle.
Unable to represent spectral red with any pigment, Boutet substituted two reds – fire-red and crimson – omitting one of Newton’s two blues. To compound the confusion, the colorist evidently misread two of the labels, “orange” and “violet.”
~ from John Gage ~ Colour and Meaning - Art, Science and Symbolism
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Sherana Harriette Frances... drawings part 2 ... 1976
The LSD drawings of Sherana Harriette Frances
a scan from a favourite book of mine
Drawing it out ~ Befriending the Unconscious ~
the book originated as a wordless visual dialogue between her conscious and unconscious mind, catalyzed by her experience with LSD at the international Institute for Advanced Study.
click on image to enlarge
"The Mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell,
a hell of heaven."
- Milton: Paradise Lost (1667) Book 1 line 253 Thursday, March 22, 2012
Anne Sexton (1928- 1974)... self portrait & poem...
Self Portrait Undated
'You are the answer, '
I said, and entered,
lying down on the gates of the city.
Then the chains were fastened around me
and I lost my common gender and my final aspect.
Adam was on the left of me
and Eve was on the right of me,
both thoroughly inconsistent with the world of reason.
We wove our arms together
and rode under the sun.
I was not a woman anymore,
not one thing or the other.
O daughters of Jerusalem,
the king has brought me into his chamber.
I am black and I am beautiful.
I've been opened and undressed.
I have no arms or legs.
I'm all one skin like a fish.
I'm no more a woman
than Christ was a man.
I said, and entered,
lying down on the gates of the city.
Then the chains were fastened around me
and I lost my common gender and my final aspect.
Adam was on the left of me
and Eve was on the right of me,
both thoroughly inconsistent with the world of reason.
We wove our arms together
and rode under the sun.
I was not a woman anymore,
not one thing or the other.
O daughters of Jerusalem,
the king has brought me into his chamber.
I am black and I am beautiful.
I've been opened and undressed.
I have no arms or legs.
I'm all one skin like a fish.
I'm no more a woman
than Christ was a man.
excerpt from ~ Consorting with Angels by Anne Sexton
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Antonius Eisenhoit (around 1553-1603)... print ...Haeresis Dea... 1589
I thought it was time to blog this image as i still get lots of enquiries on it since i first posted it back when i started blogging on myspace about 2007, and HERE she is in her detailed glory, enjoy!
Monday, March 19, 2012
Odilon Redon...print 1889
The Sphinx: My gaze, which nothing can deflect, remains fixed across all things on an unreachable horizon. The Chimera: I am full of lightness and joy!
A Gustave Flaubert
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Jean Giraud ... Moebius RIP ...8 May 1938 - 10 March 2012
We artists can only go so far as the people can follow us. We are not alone, we are part of the system. We can take risks, but if you want to go to the peak of your consciousness, you may very well find yourself alone. Even if you know how to translate what you see, maybe only ten people will be able to understand what you tell. But, if you have faith in your vision, and retell it again and again, you will start noticing that, after a time, more people will begin to catch up with you. ~ Jean Giraud
Friday, March 9, 2012
Paul Rumsey... drawings... Satyr Family... 2002
I am delighted to share with you, some work generously sent by a favourite artist and super thrilled to know he is a fan of the blog!!
click on image to enlarge
click on image to enlarge
more wonders here > The Paul Rumsey Homepage
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Dolorosa ...prints for Sale...
I have had a few enquiries about my own art works for sale, so i have made available 1 of each of the following prints that where made as part of a small limited edition for an exhibitions at last years Esoteric Book Conference in Seattle.
All printed on Hahnemühle FineArt paper
1. A5 with one inch border SOLD
2. A4 with one inch border SOLD
3. A4 with one inch border SOLD
4. A4 with one inch border SOLD
5. A4 with one inch border SOLD
A5= 35 euros plus p&p A4= 55 euros plus p&p
paypal accepted
all enquiries to > mariadolorosadelacruz@dublin.com
Monday, March 5, 2012
Justin Lee Brown ... drawings & poem
"Maximum Velocity Realization"
A History of Abuse
Devotion punishes
the submissive tenderness of love
rattles the bars of the riot cell
the event horizon explodes
ecstasy seizes my ersatz heart
accelerates paroxysms of cobalt quivers
I strain
against taught strung bow
of limited compassion
I sink into delicious madness
plunge terrified
into the reverie of myogenic dream
my serial killer love springs its genetic latch
everything is offered
nothing will be forgiven
everything must die
my crisis of dimension survives
the vicissitudes of my shape shifting
into fire I throw you, true believer
twisting flesh, contortions of long shadows
whispering, the ancestry of restrained milieu
familial bonds break tender bones
cruel thoughts race mercilessly
they cut across the frozen tundra
tearing away layer after layer of lies
exposing the new pink flesh of the righteous kill
I am parched by absences and acquisitions
my teeth are in my stomach instead of in my mouth
hope, consigned to oblivion
albeit practiced after every loss or forbidding
unlike like muscle memory
which never lies and never forgets
I forget things when I am skinned raw and bare naked
In moments of an utter disconnection from love
still, my fear of you holds me close like exile
like a sickness in waiting
longing for fire while being burned by it
consumed by even the most objective elements of self
the crush of the malevolent familiar
spits me from the bloodbath of your mouth
curious confusions rebound, recoil
my darkness wrapped around me like my father’s lust
I recognized the tone of your intentions
filling my rusted water can with blood
what better way to control me
than to drown me with your hybrid vigor
survival, an odd balance of nature and nurture
that which doesn’t kill me makes me crawl.
Justin Lee Brown aka/Desiderata © Copyright all rights reserved 2011
Detail from "The Arrogance of Observation"
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Dolorosa... new drawing... La Inquieta 2012
a H.I.M. is still ah HER.
a hymn Her.
a song unto HER
a chant unto HER
a lotus flowHER at HER
sacRED lotus feet
is ALL Eye e'er was
and WILL
BE unto She who be
HER
and I AUM HER HYMN.
a hymn Her.
a song unto HER
a chant unto HER
a lotus flowHER at HER
sacRED lotus feet
is ALL Eye e'er was
and WILL
BE unto She who be
HER
and I AUM HER HYMN.
by Naga Negus.
Alfred Kubin...illustration...1926
"When I ventured back into the world of the living, I discovered that my god only held half-sway. In everything, both great and small, he had to share with an adversary who wanted life. The forces of repulsion and attraction, the twin poles of the earth with their currents, the alternation of the seasons, day and night, black and white - these are battles."
from The Other Side by Alfred Kubin
Monday, February 27, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Stephen J. Clark... prints 2010/11/12
Burden 2010
From A Great Lost Book 2011
Mephistotrix, Beezle and Lamia 2011
Night Swallows 2012
more here > The Singing Garden
Clive Barker... prints ...
At The Door Of The Primal Room
Demon In The Blue Grass
Blue Vision 1995
Malingo, 1999
more > Clive Barker
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Austin O Spare...
We who seek—whether we know or not what we seek or find, seem forced to face divergent paths; and ever inviting is the non-resistant blind alley to all sameness, to sick and weary life. Other paths, rougher, lead who so willeth to new pleasures: verily they lead the life-force with ever-open eye to the awaiting disaster or to chaos—never bathos, self-pity. The brave care nothing.
The wise man often exuviates his knowledge, rectifies his pastiche of acceptances and reverts to simple fundaments. By courage his eye is never stale and his levels become as steps. He again reorientates by oblique divagation, new asymmetries, dynamics, complexities and funambulatory compositions; never destroying his essential dis-symmetry.
Love for all things is integral beauty; it has no hate or possessiveness; its law is its own causality. Passions may be controlled but we best love by non-will as inclination dictates: so accept love wherever you may find it. It is difficult to recognize because it never asks.
All our denials, even of ourselves, come from non-acceptance: the unrealisation of otherness in self; of the Absolute in the non-absolute.
Love for all things is integral beauty; it has no hate or possessiveness; its law is its own causality. Passions may be controlled but we best love by non-will as inclination dictates: so accept love wherever you may find it. It is difficult to recognize because it never asks.
All our denials, even of ourselves, come from non-acceptance: the unrealisation of otherness in self; of the Absolute in the non-absolute.
from Austin Osman Spare,The Logomachy of ZOS ~ ZOS Speaks! Encounters with AOS. Fulgur, 1998
previous Austin O Spare
In our solitariness... great depths are sometimes sounded. Truth hideth in company.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Jindrich Styrsky...collage ...Comte de Lautréamont...1939...
"It was a spring day. Birds spilled out their warbling canticles, and humans, having answered their various calls of duty, were bathing in the sanctity of fatigue. Everything was working out its destiny: trees, planets, sharks. All except the Creator! He was stretched out on the highway, his clothing torn, His lower lip hung down like a soporific cable. His teeth were unbrushed, and dust clogged the blond waves of his hair. Numbed by a torpid drowsiness, crushed against pebbles, his body was making futile efforts to get up again. His strength had left him, and he lay there weak as an earthworm, impassive as treebark. Gouts of wine swamped the ruts trenched by his shoulders' nervous twitches."
Lautréamont, From "Maldoror"
(trans. Alexis Lykiard)
previous Jindrich Styrsky
Styrsky poem > here
Monday, February 20, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Bookplate...Francisco Hernández...1651...natural treasures of the new world
click on image to enlarge
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