I PAINT TO ELIMINATE THE DEBRIS OF MY LIFE AND MAKE IT WHOLE. I ARTICULATE AND CLARIFY THROUGH EXAMINATION,INSPIRATION,ILLUMINATION........poetry,words,materials,
ALL FINE ARTS MAKE ME FEEL CONNECTED TO SOMETHING BEYOND MY SELF. I CONNECT
MY DREAMS AND MY REALITIES AND ALLEVIATE MY SUFFERING THROUGH THIS PROCESS.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that does fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! Now I hear them – Ding-dong, bell.
A snippet from THE TEMPEST. It's quoted by Iris Murdoch in A FAIRLY HONOURABLE DEFEAT and I believe it's quoted in TO THE LIGHTHOUSE.Torso of an Archaic Apollo
translated by c.F. MacIntryre
Never will we know his fabulous head
where the eyes' apples slowly ripened. Yet
his torso glows: a candelabrum set
before his gaze which is pushed back and hid,
restrained and shining. Else the curving breast
could not thus blind you,nor through the soft turn
of the loins could this smile easily have passed
into the bright groins where the genitals burned.
Else stood this stone a fragment and defaced,
with lucent body from the shoulders falling,
too short,not gleaming like a lion's fell;
nor would this star have shaken the shackles off,
bursting with light,until there is no place
that does not see you. you must change your life.
From Rilke: Selected Poems (Univ. of California Press,l957)
There's a sacred limit to any closeness
There's a sacred limit to any closeness,
Even the passionate fact can't transcend,
Though in fearful silence lips on lips may press
And the heart love tears to pieces won't mend.
And friendship is powerless and years
Of intense high-minded happiness,
Where the soul is free, a stranger to fears
Of the slow languors of passionate excess.
Those who strive to reach it play the part
Of madness, those who succeed are stricken --- And
Now you understand why my heart
Is not beating beneath your hand. Anna Akhmatova
WE MAKE ART AMY COHEN BANKER
ARE WE COMPASSIONATE OR CALLOUS? ARTICULATE OR CARELESS?
WE HURT, WE SUFFER, WE GRIEVE, WE GROW, WE MATURE, WE WORK
TO SEE SENSE FROM THE SENSELESS.
WE ENJOY THE 'PASSIONATE JOY OF THE USELESS".
We MAKE ART INSTEAD OF WAR
TO LEARN TO TOUCH THE DIAMOND WITHIN TO THE DIAMOND OUTSIDE...
THE WORLD IS LIKE A FLIGHT OF SWANS...