I remember one day waiting for the stores to open. I was parked in-front of an Art Store. I knew the joint was closed but watched a guy go up to the door and pull on it. Before he did this he tossed his cigarette butt to the ground. Once he found out the place was closed he went looking for it on the dirty asphalt jungle street. I watched as he looked for it, found it and picked it up. It was still hot and he walked away smoking it. This image is inspired by the man and the cigarette butt…glory hallelujah!!
“Lots of people I know have bootlegged tapes of performances and if they play it I will be transported back sometimes with happiness, sometimes with horror.” ~ Chris Bailey,The Saints
This image takes me back to when I was 17. My eyes are closed with an inward feeling-look upon my face. It is the feeling of a blissful heart. This picture was taken by my first boyfriend who was a semi-professional photographer, graphic artist and print man. It became a romantic nuance when he took my picture. At the time I was young, foolish and in love with him. Looking at the image my face shows reflection, mockery and beauty. Time has taken its toll. I am a survivor of one crazy life, but with continuity I can still call upon the youthful and blissful heart of my youth.
This picture takes me back to a time during the 1970’s when mom and dad were alive. This is when taking a walk with your boyfriend meant something special. I was an open blossom of life fresh as a daisy, rose or yellow dandelion.
I threw away most of all the pictures Mike took of me. This particular image was rolled up in a paper towel container. My mom saved it for me. I found it recently due to spring cleaning, thank you mom. My wild ways and rebellion, that came a few years later, did not get to this image. I destroyed all images from high school and my school books. Today I am glad to see how I once was. My body has changed and beauty has faded but I still feel the same in my heart. A blissful heart is still youthfully present. I don’t deny that anymore, not now, not ever again. As I have learned recently this is the relationship between my Maiden and my Crone.
The song below is what Mike and I listened to at that time with a little help from our friends. In the 1970s pot was everywhere and mostly free. (ya… I am not talking to my generation here but for the youngsters who may not know this..)
As you may well know…this song came later… it was fun too. Maybe punk rock was or is a kinda rebirth or something!? Yet now I can blend both parts of myself together.
I have never had a real person out-there mentor. My mentors have always been from books published by people long ago demised as William Blake or Carl Jung. When I read their work, it is not in a way as if to own it or to be an expert about their works. When I read their works, and see the images they have created, it is if they are here with me, beyond space and time showing me things.
They help me to affirm what I know and support my experiences. They are my mentors in this life. They show me the big picture and they teach me, they still do, about how to live in this world. They show me how to use my imagination and to share what I have created.
They help me understand power, strength, and insight. I have learned to love contradiction, humor, and metaphor. I have found bliss in creating mandalas, watercolors and grasping the hands of nature. They guide me in confronting my fears and remind me that I am not alone in a complex world; Blake and Jung both reveal that uniqueness is a form of brilliance.
Also, we as humans shouldn’t strive for this without its complementary and sometimes contrary opposite, which is to learn to be alike and the same as the most common and mundane.
I am new to WordPress.
I write and write to get a feel for what this place is all about.
I read and read to see where people are at.
I like this place and
I pretty much post once a day
maybe even more.
So here I go and make my official commitment
to this in my own way...
I love Word Press...
Trust me baby...
Butt is it art?
