Transfiguration
A poetry video from eight years ago I made with a professional camera operator and video/audio editor, location sound mixer, a drummer, public domain silent film (masters!) footage, Spanish & French translation, urban footage…
A poetry video from eight years ago I made with a professional camera operator and video/audio editor, location sound mixer, a drummer, public domain silent film (masters!) footage, Spanish & French translation, urban footage…
The ultimate glitch is mortality. Or maybe we discover the ultimate glitch after encountering finally the mortal moment. My late brother was a musician, and my speculative fiction in the previous post moving from mumbo jumbo about non-sequiturs and fictive art into King Solomon appropriating the camera used to record a Moody Blues concert film, reminded me of a music instruction book he wrote with some deliberately outlandish claims about music history.
I miss my difficult brother.
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I must again thank the Canada Council for the Arts who funded my GIF project with the Digital Originals program. My project is finished now but the CC support was of great assistance and meaningful in developing a digital approach.
These momentary artifacts of glitch attributed possibly & probably to film degradation might also be attributed, say, to a ghostly spirit in the camera interfacing with the filming of a Moody Blues performance – bearing in mind the history of image in non-sequiturs even Picasso claimed his paintings were non-sequiturs & bearing in mind the history of fictive art and the creation of fictive personas in this genre & beyond considering only a ghostly spirit in this cheery absurdity or finality one could speculate on migrating birds, say, or a pterodactyl hunting, say, or old wise King Solomon himself whom we rarely think of sitting full lotus on a finely woven flying carpet timeline-jumping into the astral zones or ascending into the Akashic Records or descending into the physical geography of his kingdom surveying wisely & contemplating, say, or swooping low to sample grapes or fall in love, say, or help strangers discover their destination, say, or suggesting the camera itself be examined & brought to his magicians allowing it has mysteriously been recording arcane vibrations in tandem with ancient history.
First I called it Love in a Time of Anchors then took out Love. Ink, gouache, watercolour on paper softly textured 11″ X 16″ curving at the edges maybe it’s drawing paper
A sleeping moon a sleeping resting or ill or exhausted a dreaming lion
A princess or insect an angel or song within the egg or idea of the egg
Flight illumination distance
First this fellow was hyena-like advancing as I focused with my brush on where his feet met the ground he transformed into more of a quizzical assured creature
Reaching into it all with a long arm balancing a queen and her child is who do you know I wonder who
Child reaches curiously exploring as portions of a Giotto sky flow into him she is like a medieval monument
An anchor in the title studied by a rabbit itself medieval manuscript illumination-like
More of a psychic landscape than realistic depiction of the external world reconfigured in perhaps symbolic relationships an interlocking dream-like puzzle
There was an emotional component to this I know where that came from in
Flight illumination distance
His appearance gnarled & guardian spirit-like. Or she. Or it. My first blog posting since the computer crash left me with an uncooperative faded & dated tablet to work with. I found a recommended refurbished MAC store, across town, near where where I once walked the dog. The dog I haven’t seen in a long time. Circumstances change and life continues marching. Or standing there throughout four seasons with wooden round owlish eyes. Or sinking into the underground, the underworld, gnarled roots entertaining coincidence and circumstance. Blooming & shedding the bloom. Alarmed. Observant. Older. Amused. Walking the dog and not walking the dog.