Saturday, May 31, 2008

A Psychology of Flowers?


I Detest





I Love


Chicory looks most beautiful at dusk; their blue heads seemingly floating freely like bright disks shining in a lucid auric light. They alight the ditches of every rural Illinois back road, transforming any leisurely drive, if taken at the right time of day, into a psychedelic meditation where every translucent petal calls out and magnetically pulls you into a deep intoxicating dream. I love them. They're my favorite of all flowers.


Thursday, May 29, 2008

Monday, May 26, 2008

Go... Click...

Letters - January 30, 2008

In about ten years, go with me to Greece to see the Parthenon. Current reconstruction should be completed by then and it's one of the most amazing pieces of ancient architecture.

Deal?

Meanwhile, do click on the "detail" link for that Puella Animo Aureo painting by Mark Ryden. There's a detail of the books; read the titles on their spines.


If I were to do a symbolic self portrait, one that represented my overall nature, that painting would be it. The girl would look different but the components would essentially be the same.

I particularly like how she stands atop Chaos. That relationship evokes all sorts of associations for me, personal and archetypal. I unfortunately don't have the time or space to share them here -- perhaps one day, I hope.

Much love,
Poly D.


Friday, May 23, 2008

La Muerta, La Muerta!


[Absent Image]
Day of The Dead Fetish doll by AMC, 2006
Courtesy of OFF THE WALL FOLK ART



The Tomb of Amir Khusru

Trees heavy with birds hold
the afternoon up with their hands.
Arches and patios. A tank of water,
poison green, between red walls.
A corridor leads to the sanctuary:
beggars, flowers, leprosy, marble.

Tombs, two names, their stories:
Nizam Uddin, the wandering theologian,
Amir Khusru, the parrots tongue.
The saint and the poet. A grim
star spouts from a cupola.
Slime sparkles in the pool.

Amir Khusru, parrot and mockingbird:
the two halves of each moment,
muddy sorrow, voice of light.
Syllables, wandering fires,
vagabond architectures:
every poem is time, and burns.

-Octavio Paz

Monday, May 19, 2008

As I Sat in a Church in Detroit and The Preacher Sipped His Beer, He Told Me I Needed to Go to Tupelo

Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds: Tupelo

Looka yonder! looka yonder!
Looka yonder! a big black cloud come!
A big black cloud come!
O comes to tupelo. comes to tupelo

Yonder on the horizon
Yonder on the horizon
Stopped at the mighty river
Stopped at the mighty river and
Sucked the damn thing dry
Tupelo-o-o, o tupelo
In a valley hides a town called tupelo

Distant thunder rumble. distant thunder rumble
Rumble hungry like the beast
The beast it cometh, cometh down
The beast it cometh, cometh down
Wo wo wo-o-o
Tupelo bound. tupelo-o-o. yeah tupelo
The beast it cometh, tupelo bound

Why the hen wont lay no egg
Cant get that cock to crow
The nag is spooked and crazy
O God help tupelo! o God help tupelo!
O God help tupelo! o God help tupelo!

Ya can say these streets are rivers
Ya can call these rivers streets
Ya can tell ya self ya dreaming buddy
But no sleep runs this deep
No! no sleep runs this deep
No sleep runs this deep
Women at their windows
Rain crashing on the pane
Writing in the frost
Tupelos shame. tupelos shame
O God help tupelo! o God help tupelo!

O go to sleep lil children
The sandmans on his way
O go to sleep lil children
The sandmans in his way
But the lil children know
They listen to the beating of their blood
Listen to the beating of their blood
Listen to the beating of their blood
Listen to the beating of their blood
They listen to the beating of their blood
The sandmans mud!
The sandmans mud!
And the black rain come down
The black rain come down
The black rain come down
Water water everywhere
Where no bird can fly no fish can swim
Where no bird can fly no fish can swim
No fish can swim
Until the king is born!
Until the king is born!
In tupelo! tupelo-o-o!
Til the king is born in tupelo!

In a clap-board shack with a roof of tin
Where the rain came down and leaked within
A young mother frozen on a concrete floor
With a bottle and a box and a cradle of straw
Tupelo-o-o! o tupelo!
With a bottle and a box and a cradle of straw

Well saturday gives what sunday steals
And a child is born on his brothers heels
Come sunday morn the first-born dead
In a shoebox tied with a ribbon of red
Tupelo-o-o! hey tupelo!
In a shoebox buried with a ribbon of red

O ma-ma rock you lil one slow
O ma-ma rock your baby
O ma-ma rock your lil one slow
O God help tupelo! o God help tupelo!
Mama rock your lil one slow
The lil one will walk on tupelo
The lil one will walk on tupelo
Black rain come down, black rain come down
Tupelo-o-o! yeah tupelo!
And carry the burden of tupelo
Tupelo-o-o! o tupelo! yeah!
The king will walk on tupelo!
Tupelo-o-o! o tupelo!
He carried the burden outa tupelo!
Tupelo-o-o! hey tupelo! [repeat]
You will reap just what you sow