Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts

Saturday, March 8, 2014

time is Time is

image: public domain



disbelief
snorts out its fear
its arrogance a cold cloak

I know what I know,
I saw what I saw . . . 

light emits
whispers rustle
blue trees bend, 
remaining silent

voices float downstream
heavy moons, full,
hang above

time is Time is
missing, not lost
withheld 
in a floating orb

I know what I know,
I saw what I saw. . . 


regan lee
march 2014
eugene, oregon

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

like lotus leaves


A Landscape All Her Own, James Rich, acrylic on canvas




like lotus leaves

where is the dreamtime, i mean
what space
where is the marker
to let us know if we know
recognize
were, are, or will be

where are the parts
we don't remember

the silver cord, now snapped back
releases these dreamscapes
floating
like lotus leaves
on green water



~ regan lee
eugene, oregon
feb 2014

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Max Ernst Inspired Paintings - James Rich

Related to the post below about Christopher Knowles and Mike Clelland's bloggings about the surrealist painter Max Ernst, I thought I'd share a few of Jim's paintings. Ernst, as I commented in the previous post has been an inspiration for him. Jim often paints in a surrealist style, he's also played around with collages and paint as a medium. Many of his surreal and abstract paintings have a "galactic" theme -- referencing space, nature...


This painting reminds me of an Ernst influence, which Jim freely acknowledges. This is an acrylic on canvas board. Neither one of us remembers the title -- the original is packed away in the dark regions of the studio outside -- but we both think the title had Atlantis in it. If it didn't, it should have! So for now it's titled "Ruins of Atlantis."
James Rich, Ruins of Atlantis, 1980?, acrylic on canvas board


hidden experience: Max Ernst, ritual magic and UFOs

Mike Clelland has a great post, inspired by the equally great OP from Christopher Knowles at The Secret Sun, concerning the surreal painter Max Ernst. Were images in the paintings shown on both blogs referring to a UFO abduction event? And even if they were not, not directly anyway, there is still a connection, as Christopher Knowles suggests. See Mike's post at hidden experience: Max Ernst, ritual magic and UFOs and Christopher Knowles post that Mike references here.

Painting by Max Ernst

Knowles writes:
It took some time to sort out but I later found that UFOs minus the ETH (namely, the Elusive Companion Hypothesis) worked quite well when I plugged them into all of the obsessions I plunged myself after dealing with those impasses; Synchronicity, High Weirdness, deep symbology, and so on.

In fact, the ECH was the missing puzzle piece that kept eluding me when dealing with those topics.

I also soon discovered that the ECH was lurking in the shadows of nearly every single obsession-- and often every mystery or conundrum-- in my life without me ever realizing it. I discover fresh examples of this all of the time and share them with you here.
Beautiful, isn't it?
Painting by Max Ernst
(The image of the specific style of circle appears in other paintings. There's something very "all knowing" about that image. Something prescient, reminding me a little of my orange orb encounter. Ernst's circle is not orange, nor is it a orb or closed sphere, but still, there's something that tugs at me in my own personal image bank. In Ernst's circle I find it interesting that the circle seems to beckon, as well as watch. There's an opening within the circle, which evokes, for myself, areas that are hidden yet ... to be found.)



I left a comment at Mike Clellands hidden experience that Ernst is a favorite artist of my husband Jim, who is a painter, often painting in surreal styles. When I shared these posts with Jim, and told him about the book Knowles mentions on his blog; Max Ernst and Alchemy: A Magician in Search of Myth By M. E. Warlick and told him that Ernst "was a magician" he said he "wasn't surprised -- I've always felt that, and always related to his spirituality." (Then a lively conversation ensued about collage, art, spirituality, war, ...okay, I'm back...)

Mike at hidden experience calls Christopher's post about Ernst "groundbreaking" and I agree.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Moon and Concrete



I have a recurring memory-image from childhood: white concrete, the moon, the deep deep blue of night sky, Mt. Hood, feeling the cold of the rear window glass in my grandmother's car at night. They're all related, all connected, but I don't know in what way. Within all that are the memories of my "friends," the small beings that came in the night to float me through doors and walls and out the front of the house and up into the large fir tree in our neighbor's front yard. There, in that tree, I'd wait for "them" to come.

I did go to Mt. Hood when I was very little; younger than the age I was in this memory. And at that young age, we did not live in the house where these memories take place; that came about three years later. Furthermore, the concrete (front yard torn up and replaced with white concrete)  -- that too came later, after we'd lived in the second house for some years. So the memories are all true, but mixed up...

I said I'd been to Mt. Hood when I was very young, that I know because I was told so, but only remember seeing it as were drove away. And it was late at night. Why my grandmother would be driving just the two of us (for it was only herself and I that went up to Oregon at that time) in the Mt. Hood area late at night doesn't make sense... but I have a clear memory of the glass all around, the night sky, the moon, and the looming silent white of Mt. Hood's giant peak.

These memories have been nagging at me, as well as the images, and I was impelled to write this poem, without thinking of anything, just letting it come. The ending surprised me a bit.

Moon and Concrete
a stream of consciousness regression. . .

hard white
harsh, bone
rough
glittering, shimmers
stark light
chalk like
silence
pool of stone, reflecting a heavy Prussian-blue sky -- invisible

round white soft with gray
following
through windows
bouncing off cold cold snow mountains
at night

pretending sleep in my wool coat
gliding silently through cold snow white blue night light

moon and concrete,waiting, breathing
watching...