poemimage

The visual & the poetic.

Category: Figurative Abstraction

I was ‘barely old.’

In 2015, when I did this drawing, I was ‘barely old.

Leonard Cohen already said the more poetic ‘almost young.’

I was not ‘almost young.‘ I play tricks on myself.

As the years slip away I have experienced a second gust of wind.

A whirlwind out-of-the-blue stirs the cauldron inside me.

Little did I realize, ten years later, I would create my most ambitious work to date.

Part One (of the diptych) discussed here.

Part Two (of the diptych) discussed here.

Update: I completed the diptych and upon completion realized both theme & image desired to continue.

I began work on a third roll of paper thus forming a triptych.

One-third of the way (October, 2025) into the final roll of 5′ X 33′ paper I took a break to deal with minor ‘mechanical’ medical issues.

I find myself moving in slow motion. Why be concerned? I recall Aesop’s Fable of The Tortoise and The Hare.

Celtic ‘bird-man’ (in a warmer black watercolour) is where I stopped. The pause has given me time & space to sketch & imagine possibilities for what comes next.

Sooner rather than later, knock on wood, I shall impersonate The Tortoise crossing the finish line.

Three rolls of paper size-wise total approximately 5′ X 100.’

Creating a triptych has taken me by surprise, consumed hundreds of hours, and given me a great deal of silence & satisfaction.

I will keep you informed.

The authorities & Mythical Zeus (a prose poem)

The authorities said we have your fingerprints.

Mythical Zeus said I am certain this is impossible.

The authorities said beyond any shadow of a doubt.

Mythical Zeus said I have no memory of being here.

The authorities said you have been here thousands of times.

Mythical Zeus, in flux like a wavery obsidian shadow, said I am certain this is impossible.

The authorities said we constantly retrieve your fingerprints, alongside other evidence.

Mythical Zeus said perhaps I know this location by another name.

The authorities said possibly you have forgotten, an easy mistake to make.

Mythical Zeus said why do you – how strange – you would speak to me of memory.

The authorities said possibly you have have been deceived.

Mythical Zeus said why do you – how strange – I am not aware of mistakes or deception.

The authorities said we can be of great assistance with this – with you – with clearing your name…

Mythical Zeus said I am on a search-party mission to rename & reactivate thought-forms previously declared abandoned & lost. And I am not lost.

The authorities, concurring, said we wish to save you from your illness.

Mythical Zeus said I am not aware of any illness.

The authorities, concurring, said please sign the form giving consent.

Mythical Zeus said what will be done based on my signature if I sign.

The authorities said whatever we deem consequently necessary to deactivate the current situation.

Mythical Zeus took a deep breath, diving like Johnny Weissmuller into the multidimensional ocean, on his search-party mission to realign & reassign thought-forms previously declared abandoned & lost. Alone, he did not feel abandoned.

The last line of the poem places the images in context. A figure in motion as if underwater in a multidimensional ocean. A figure suspended like an angel above a medieval landscape, swimming through the air.