Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
more word dust billy bob beamer
more word dust billy bob beamer
My works visually explore prayer/meditation/healing processes, as well as my intuitive understanding of string theory, the vibratory interconnectedness of all things, and multiple universes. Like all art, though, the works are ultimately about themselves and the viewer's involvement with them. I concentrate on drawing--that most basic mode of communication--in a small format. To quote William Blake: "the universe lies in a grain of sand." My best way to realize incalculable enormity is to create its contrasting opposite, seen in the often faintly drawn, small-to-smallest lines, signs, and symbols. To better grasp at least one aspect of my works, the viewer needs to see them through magnification--not a gimmick but a major part of the interactive process. This method becomes a way of revealing initially unseen details in the drawings, as well as random miniscule particles, fingerprints, and detritus--the latter arriving unexpectedly onto the glass and frame surfaces and interacting with the drawings in unplanned, ever changing, interconnected ways...
Thanks to the synchronicity of meeting Jim Leftwich (5 years after I had decided that my works most closely fit the definitions of "asemic writing"), and then of learning that Jim and Tim Gaze had essentially operationalized the terms, "asemic writing," I was and am very pleased to sit in the asemia camp, if I may call it that And I am happy to call Jim a good friend. Within that friendship, and from his often profound knowledge base, Jim has inspired my work more than I could have imagined.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The Great Wyrm of the Primer Siglo Veinte
The Great Wyrm of the Primer Siglo Veinte
by Jesse S. Mitchell
God Bless the new millennium,
Everyone is dead.
God Bless the new Messiah,
Everyone is dead.
God Bless all this miasma,
Everything is gone.
We wait outdoors, because that is where the sun will shine. They tell us the truth.
The junk sick princesses make their rounds
With palms pressed out
Waiting for alms
Searching for all those
Fevered words we all left
Burning in other mouths
And lips.
Taking blood from our sides,
Bleeding fingertips.
Waiting outside, from Auchwitz to Nakba day, because that is where they say the sun will shine. The light in our eyes, make us blind.
But we desire intensity
But simplicity.
Not unlike the angels and demons
Of heaven and hell
Who have never known complacency.
Bring me the last followers of the last remaining god
Before dawn.
Waiting perfectly still, never moving, if there is a way, the sun will shine.
It is a perfectly big army.
It is a perfectly proud moment.
But we talk too much,
Maybe too many promises.
Bring before me the last who remain,
Who remain faithful/faithless to
The end.
and
God Bless this end.
We will not move from this spot not ever, waiting, waiting for the sun to shine.
Friday, October 7, 2011
askance
I like artistic presentation which ,looking askance, shows a different insight each time. Else it comes down off of the wall shortly !!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
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