Thursday, October 07, 2010

Candle portraits








Ever feel like these bewildered fellows? 


Hmm. Me, too.

These candle portraits are far more articulate than I am able to be right now. 


I'm somewhere between blind mole rat and Lammergeier eagle; I burrow then soar, find my way then lose it. I seem to have zero insight one minute and sharp, telescopic vision the next. My face is lit with laughter one moment, a crumpled mish-mash of sweat and tears the next. I grimace and am at peace; am at peace then grimace. It's all rather chaotic to be honest. 

How are you all faring? Well, I hope. . .  


*


(My apologies for being a silent labyrinthine bird lately. This too shall pass. It must. It will.) 


14 comments:

  1. you are getting your hands dirty and then clean and then dirty again. You are in the thick of your art. No need to ever apologize. However - you are missed.
    xo
    Rachel
    Keep getting absolutely filthy with it =)

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  2. There is a lot of silence out there in the blog universe of late. Must be a planetary influence.

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  3. dear Claire, this terrible soaring and plummeting will pass. It's pure hell to be in the middle of, though. Thinking of you. Remember to breathe. We're very close. Something wonderful will reveal itself, if you can just hold on. L., M

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  4. Dear Rachel - how did you know? I am getting my hands dirty and clean then dirty again - and much else besides. Life is one massive painting right now, a messy, chaotic process that involves the whole body. Thank you for saying I have been missed. I so don't like leaving comments unanswered here - I just have not had the stamina or wherewithal to write. Thank you for staying present and for your loving words. L, C x

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  5. Hi T - I believe you're right about things planetary. There's a lot of silence out in the blog universe at the moment; a different kind of silence, one that tells us people are grappling with serious, weighty things - the world's tipped more towards gravitas rather than levity - every much more than usual.

    It seems to me we're in a kind of communal crucible. . . at least we're not alone in the smush and boil/roil. It's good to know you're out there, T. Thanks. L, C x

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  6. Dear Sparrow
    There are times when life asks a 'peculiar lot' of us. I know you know how this is and what a tizz-wazz of a ride it can be. Bless you, M, and much love to you in Winthrop, C x

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  7. intuition I suppose. =) my best friend is a writer. When she's in the thick of something it wakes her up an night, it consumes her. She's writing in her sleep. Artists tend to disappear for great lengths when something is about to be born. But it's the best kind of quiet. I love knowing that out there in the world people are completely covered with their art. They just can't keep it in anymore.
    Good luck and relish the time you have to roll around in it. I'm jealous ;)

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  8. Hi RachVB - at the moment, while many areas of my life are tipping and spinning furiously this way and that, painting is my boat, my rudder, the vessel that contains what needs containing, a space to tame the storms and bring some semblance of order to the chaos... what is ultimately 'shown' can only be the teensiest hint of the deeper, wider, endlessly layered story. I think I'd probably have lost my marbles entirely if I didn't have paint and paper to turn to! Thank you for understanding... I really value your presence here. And one day soon, I will catch up with 'Life Beyond the Fray' - I'm so sorry I've been such a hopeless non-commenting visitor to your beautiful blog. I am always popping in, just not writing much of anything anywhere at the moment. Soon, soon, things will shift and there'll be room again.

    I think often of your river journey - the colours of that water are something else! Take care, dear Rachel. xx

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  9. Claire,
    I'm sorry to hear things are spinning. This week feels strange that way. It seems to be raining all over the world. Today it is sunny here, but still hungover. I'm glad you have a rudder and your space. That is so very important.
    You've just completely shifted my mood, so thank you. I think of the river water too. The whole trip feels like a different life.
    Guard your space and use it well. You make beautiful things. Truly.
    I have a feeling we will all be here when you're ready.
    xo
    Rachel

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  10. Dear Rachel, your comment gets me teary. Which is good, too. Thank you, thank you. . . and remember, the river is in you, too xx

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  11. Dear Claire,

    Don't forget the joy you bring. Be well.

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  12. Claire, We will all be here, we all are here and yes, you're missed. Having been absent in ways I would not have chosen, I know. I agree with the "communal crucible" where it seems so many of us are being rendered into our next form. How it strikes me is a state of feeling beyond words, a sense of expanding into unexplored spaces and allowing that to consume time and energy. The other thing I find is that I need enormous amounts of sleep, day or night, borderline narcoleptic. Must. Sleep. Now. Then pop back for a while. I adhere to the belief that if we don't fight wherever it is we are, the sooner we will be able to get back to something we can recognize. Love, Marylinn

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  13. Dear John - Lentenstuffe - how good to find you've been here and to see Odradek jumping up to the top of the 'new postings' list, announcing you're back and the doors to your writing world are once again open... We value having you in our midst. Thanks for your encouragements here, John. You be well, too. C

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  14. Dear Marylinn - you have a remarkable gift for catalyzing and synthesizing our communal conversations. . . Once, again, thank you. I am grateful we are not alone in the crucible; perhaps this 'strangely sustained' alchemy only becomes possible when we're linked up as a community? Perhaps this is one of the things we're being called to discover? In the pot, all our usual boundaries and restrictions are melted down and are burned away. How does one do this alone, without a sense of being 'in it together' with others. One of the miracles of this blog community is that we are blessed with intimacies and connections that defy all the usual limitations. There is something almost pure about it - if that doesn't sound too 'esoteric'?! But more and more it seems the physical form of life is not where it's 'at' --- it's not that the physical is less important, but rather than it's a means towards the intangible and meta-physical (which seems to be where we're the 'reality proper' resides?).

    I phrase these wonderings as questions, with no intention or need to pin any of this down. . . simply to look, and let go; it's going to be interesting, I think, to see what stays, what wanders off, what returns. Everything seems to be shifting before our very eyes!

    Love to you and your walk, Claire x

    PS. Sleep. When. You. Must. And deeply. x

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