Monday, August 19, 2019

rice field underwater - imaginary project 31


a season's sleeping tent - imaginary project 30

r e s t
Imagine a garden bed, low and white, waiting for you, within a tent. 
Shoes off, you've bent, entered.  
Lay down within a poem, and rest.

the psalm - imaginary project 29

A voice over the waters

  صَوْتُ الرَّبِّ عَلَى الْمِيَاهِ. إِلَهُ الْمَجْدِ أَرْعَدَ. الرَّبُّ فَوْقَ الْمِيَاهِ الْكَثِيرَ

ג קול יהוה  על-המים אל-הכבוד הרעים  יהוה על-מים רבים

T'hilim marries Maimonides to psalter, an altered step again to Zabur.
Here in storm form, fleeing with the deer,  I hear the word the thunder said :

Imagine film palimpsests seen and said, ominous, potent, deceptively mundane, yet respecting dread. This singing should be cyclic like histories, in turns terrible and supplicant, sinful and righteous.

                           Tradition, not history, holds David old when he wrote 29. Joyce published Finnegan's Wake in 1939, two years before his death. 
                       Psalm 29:3 The voice of the Lord is over the waters, the God of glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters.

Imaginary project - twentyeight - trash bird

talking stone - imaginary project 26

a translation of

Devonians roam under us, feel fish.
A rock thought ought to be possible.
Imagine slow poetry sounds from the ground,
 as old as, as alive as, this.
Broken words in stone tongues still speaking here, 
near water.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

web - imaginary project 25

        A spider weaves a web.

      a spider's web


It is not the same. It is never the same. It is all the same. It is always the same.
Each life is culled in a thread - sperm web, swaddling silk, first flight lifelines, shelter, draglines, lure, swaddled dead.
Imagine a film of floating daughters, slaughtered moth feasting, moon silvered revelers slipping back into nests. 

the fisher queen - imaginary project 24

  The fisher queen is seen.
There are stories.
This is one.
Then another appears.
We're entertained for years by fish tales.
When and if they end,
we'll be sorry to see them go.
Show this as photos, a film. 

The Maya Indians of southern Yucatan and northern British Honduras"1919
 Thomas William Francis Gann

memento avium - imaginary project 23

しらさぎ 白鷺memento avium (remember birds)

As water levels and temperatures rise, some shore and sea birds may increase and thrive, diving under flooded bridges, swimming over submerged homes. Other species follow the warming frontier.  The Gold-Winged Warbler is spotted in higher latitudes. The Upper Peninsula of Michigan sees 15 species return 21 days earlier in spring. Things fall apart too. Witness Plovers confused, exhausted Adele Penguins adrift far out to sea. 80% of animal and avian migration routes have changed. I think about the nisagi, or lesser egret, of Tokyo and Kanagawa's rivers and canals. Seen at night, their white silhouettes flood utility wires, are sighted fishing at dusk. Must they too become few?

Imagine a film of ghost birds, images silent, combined with black screen and sound. 

                                               こさぎ [ 小鷺 ]  lesser egret - Sakai River  境川                                                       

wrote - imaginary project 22

吉増 剛造| Yoshimasu Gōzō reminded me it's not shodo. I watched him, writing beautifully exact kana and kanji in four colors - blue, black, green, red. The characters were a few millimeters, entirely legible. His writing enveloped him. an organic extension, nourishment. symbiotic performance. 

Imagine alphabets as crypto-genesis. Understand other life writes in living languages, have their poets too. The Anthropocene could mean we've been given a chance to honor other-handedness, its persistence in spite of us. I ask myself to stop entertaining illusions of solitude.

Monday, August 12, 2019

water tableau - imaginary project 21

water tableau - still life
Imagine discarded toys, with their bellies exposed (death pose).
Remember those fragile years.
 innocence ever still?
Childhood develops flow
one way
or another.

Sunday, August 11, 2019

float - imaginary project 20


In this project, boats, a fleet, are made of warped plastic containers, a toxic flotilla of waste.
Marine beauty may contain a certain impure translucence. 
But at what cost and for how long?

peony - imaginary project 19

Tao Yuanming (Tao Chi'en) brings poverty to the peony, gifts compassion to flower and ant. Gardens adore color, abundance. Tao Yuanming sought language and landscape laid as bare as cold trees.  He saw more at his eastern door than all the wonders of Kew.  Stand at the edge of Lynden and look. Wild aster, buds swelling, foretell cold. Bold peonies seem a dream now. 

Imagine filming seasons as ghosts - prosperity, peace, turbulence, war.  Explore more your personal and cultural memory.  

the yellow dog (Goya) - imaginary project 18

the yellow dog

If struggling to swim, the approaching swell may well drown him.  If the incline describes a breaker near-shore, more life may be waiting for him. We may see the edge of grave not wave, war rubble, troubled house, roof edge, a felled tree not the sea.

Nothing is certain - not despair, not hope.

Imagine a film only of the head of a dog, light, and darkness. Recordings of peace, war, creation, and destruction play. There is no dialogue, just dog, sound. dark, and light. What might you,
seeing, listening, discover about yourself?

the yellow dog (Carpaccio) - imaginary project 17

the yellow dog

Vittore Scarpanza (Italianised as Carpaccio), the son of, perhaps, an immigrant Dalmation merchant, was a Venetian painter who lived from around 1460 into the 1520s, as one century slid into another. The actual dates of his birth and death remain uncertain, as do most biographical facts about him. Before he drifted in obscurity after age 50, he painted many beautifully luminous paintings. Here, a dog from St. Augustine in his Study (1502-1507), patiently sits and stares up and, I think, out the lit window, as does Augustine. Outside is an annunciation, the death of Jerome, to whom Augustine may or may not be writing a letter. Scholars believe the dog looks at the living saint, but I wonder. That dogs see ghosts is an old human belief, still persisting in many cultures. Why not man and dog aware of an old friend?

Imagine a film of a small mongrel dog grooming itself, and a woman writing, both seated before a daylit window. Radiance gradually increases. Both look up and out until the radiance, as slowly as it came, abates. They return to their tasks.

Ask yourself. What do they see? 

Probe deeper, with a dog's eye.

Thursday, August 8, 2019

the gypsy moth despaired - imaginary project 16

Lymantria dispar (Linneaus 1758)  Lymantriidae(1893), Noctuidae (2006), then Erebidae (2012) were sought out and brought to America (1869) by artist Étienne Léopold Trouvelot, to be interbred
with Bombyx mori, the domestic silkmoth. Trouvelot's disastrous imagination produces a century of poisons and insect introductions. It is interesting to note two native species, the daddy-long-legs (Pholcus phalangioides) and the deer mouse (Peromyscus maniculatus), have been observed to be very effective predators. The emergent female, shown here, never flies but dies after producing a soft woolen, doe-colored egg pouch. 

Imagine cloaks made of white wings, things as revered as the Gaelic poet's tuigean (teygen), or as that of a Maori kakahu, each exhibiting a kind of cool climate delicacy. Imagine the beautiful brown egg pouch covers collected and pressed into felt for children's slippers or prayer book covers. I've discovered in this moth how the unwanted and reviled deserve attention. This war on a species began with us; our mistakes and manipulations have driven its persecution.  The creature itself? Contemplate this - a gypsy moth's persistence in existing.