Something about Crickets, movie – 2020 ...

https://vimeo.com/manage/455138099/general

Another compilation video - this is more of a social commentary purge to express  some of the pent-up frustrations which come from being too close to media sources during a global pandemic in the season of political saber-rattling.

A modal assembly of sound samples with the excellent live-sax work by Tom Bluder and keyboard tapestries by Tom Kort.

The majority of art was produced over the past few months of 2020 – with the debut of a few prophetic installations from the early 1980s – "A Road Not Often Traveled As Seen By One of Three Men In An Attitude of Terror, 1982". Cheltenham Arts Center, PA, Kling Gallery, Philadelphia., PA, Hudson Gallery, NYC - Albert Stirba III Collection; also, "Witness An Interrupted Kiss", 1984 installation from solo exhibition at Lehigh University Art Galleries, Bethlehem, PA

 

branching inclusions ...

AGATE, © 2011. Acrylic paint, ink, and epoxy on wood.

Agate is reputed to have qualities of bringing stability to life - and to the 'ancients', it rendered the wearer invisible. Discovered in prehistoric France (30K B.C.) and valued during early Egyptian Civilization, our appreciation of its' qualities and coloration have accompanied the development of human history.

"We have various abilities, present in all rational creatures as is the nature of rationality itself.

Just as Nature takes every obstacle, every impediment, and works around it -

so too, a rational being can turn each setback into raw material and use it to achieve its goal."

Marcus Aurelius, "Meditations": Book 8, S.35

seeing, part 2 ...

an excerpt from the sreenplay by Peter Viertel - 

a fictionalized account of John Huston working on 

the "African Queen" in a movie entitled "White Hunter, Black Heart" - 

one of my favorite Clint Eastwood movies ...

"Well, what do you think, John?       

Not bad. But you're trying
to complicate it, Pete.        

Things are always good
if they're left simple.        

No, not always.        

Always. 

That's what creates truly
important art, is simplicity.        

John, there are no rules to art.        

There are hundreds of rules.
Hemingway understood that.        

That's why he always reduced life
to its simplest terms.      

Whether it's courage,
fear, impotence, death.        

People's lives just unfold, and things just
happen to them one thing after another.        

They were never bogged down
with that nonsense of subplot. . .        

. . .that we sweated over in the past.        

Stendhal understood that.
Flaubert. Tolstoy. Melville.        

Simplicity is what made them great." 

meditations ...

"origins of memory", triptych, oil on canvas, 5'h x 12'w, 1989.

i love books - the feel of paper, turning the pages, the smell, and the way memories, while reading them, mingle with the content - they always become more than they are, and maybe that's what the original book-makers intended ...

my first reading of Marcus Aurelius' "Meditations" was in high school some 40+ years ago - it was one of those little books i always dug because you can stick it in your pocket and pull it out anywhere for reprieve, inspiration, diversion, etc ...

appropriately, this one, accompanied me through many walks in the woods where i grew up - usually with my dog-eared copy of "Walden" - and somewhere along the way, when my legs got rubbery, or there was a perfect rock and vista, or the rhythm of my soul was right, i'd back up to a tree and take it all in - a mind, body, spirit thing that comforts unlike anything else - and i've spent a lifetime chasing it through a spectrum of experiences ...

so here we are in 2010 and i'm reading Marcus and Henry again ...

"but i have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own - not of the same blood or birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine ... we were born to work together, to obstruct is unnatural ..."

M.A., "on the River Gran, among the Quadi"

new beginnings ...

video still by j. j. spadaccia - '09 ...


“...let us start anew,
and pledge right now
to each other ...
that we will no longer
take part
in any project,
whether business or art
or any affair of the heart
or collaboration
or conversation
or even thought
that isn’t true ...
so lets start right here
with me
and you
and you ...”

excerpt from “the healing poem”
by Michael Lally © [circa 1988].

abloom ...

someone once said: 'color is its' own reward ...'

veil #6 ...

plaid angels - cryptic advice - jokingly smoking - rejoicingly flee - unseasonable warmth - to not only see me - leeched negativity - breached insecurity - long arms of lies - beauty’s disguise - fractional movement - cause and effect - recipied sound - years of neglect - merry go round - air can’t be kept - grace giving eyes - mingling souls - plato’s retreat - mengele tolls - throat of an epoch - eternity bleeds - signs saying don’t walk - futures recede - step sweeping - wallow weeping - lethargy’s weight - lost lucky breaks - escher perspectives - program directives - cranial exits - do what takes - dion versions - mapping excursions - playing angles - red barnetts’ - pyro losses - stakehouse joan - snakepit pueblos - sandia moans - rad angelenos - no roads home - nomads roam - finding grail - embedded with spam - derivative devices - satin braille - innocence sacrificed - sake of gains - three minute timers - lobotomized brains - high bottom clouds - memories through shrouds - secretly shackled - spoken out loud - both sides merge - shape of time - mobius stripping - darling serpentine - rail leg acrobats - tattooed and tortured - paradise found - beatles in vegas - night merits caution - four to the chess - feet on the floor - to hell with the rest ...

‘it is my dream to create an art which is filled with balance, purity and calmness, freed from a subject matter that is disconcerting or too attention-seeking. in my paintings, i wish to create a spiritual remedy, similar to a comfortable armchair which provides rest from physical expectation for the spiritually working, the businessman as well as the artist.’
henri matisse

earth, 2008 ...

"Relentless... awesome...
trudging onward... an invincible monster,
vast and unseizable.
Almost mocking, but worse: indifferent,
for nothing we do impacts its trajectory at all.

On and on with us or without us.
Unfazed by infinity; traversing eternity;
La machine infernale
of which nothing can halt the serene and sinister momentum.

It orbits a cycle, then pausing, resolves, inevitably,
with a sadness, a fatalism, perceived with anxiety in the realms of the subconscious,
as we, poor deluded pompous creatures,
with age and erosion finally shrug in resignation;
always relieved by a resumption of routine;
wretchedly grateful for even a semblance of a reprieve
throw up our hands, raise our eyes to the heavens and sigh:
Ah well… what can you do? What-can-we-do
as, dispassionately, the cycle mutates a little, and recurs?

And with each hypnotic, mesmerizing loop
hope, (God help us) is somehow energized anew!
We are as Sisyphus, making freshness grow in baron moors,
in drought, in fire, in snow - or how could we bear to face each day?
Ha! How's that for a challenge!
The terrible wonder of the human condition
against which daily we anaesthetize ourselves--
taking comfort in our magnetic, orbiting state,
as we may rock our children to sleep,
or as we may strive to sway worrisome ideas from our heads,
searching peace in the repetition of a familiar refrain,
while the marching machine forges resolutely ahead to a perpetual cosmic chant
in which the sum of all human endeavor is less than white noise;
a trifling, inconsequential interference
as invisible on the oscilloscope as the footsteps of tiny spiders;
as inaudible in the vacuum of space as the screams of
massacred peoples, exterminated species -- while the planets sing on
in celebration of their existence like whales in the deep.

Listen… listen… here it comes again… on and on and round and round.
Adrift in the concentric circles of Dante's hell:
a stupefying, unfathomable, unnavigable maze of canals
where ring upon ring of muddy waters lurk below murky skies,
until we have - gratefully - no idea of beginning or end
as the familiar spirographs and distorts geometrically;
or takes fearful, quantum leaps into the unimaginable
as illusions of control and normality recede --
as if they had ever been anything more than a dream."

by janice johnston howie ©2005, 'earth song'

free from ...

Forgiveness does not mean condoning or excusing.
Forgiveness means giving up all hope of having had a different past.
When I forgive, I get free from the past.
Tim Meir

[see lally's alley for more insight]

three ..,

no. 7, ink on paper. © 2007 .

drie - drei - tres - treis - triangle - trinity - sanctity - yang - emerald tablets - alchemy - treasures - limitless light -

"Thoughts rise from the mind’s haunt, whose source we can only imagine."
Joel Weishaus

to emerge ...

cause and effect ...
oblivion to apparent -
distinguishable,
from darkness to light ...

this morning ...
the robins were leaving;
lyrical flight paths,
bidding farewell
in the shape of good bye
fading to warmer skies ...

what endures throughout the history of human civilization
except a slowly evolving human nature ... [or not]
wrought with examples of cruelty and rapacious events,
occasionally highlighted by enlightenment ...
no wonder the greeks called it ‘tragedy’ -
[‘tragos’ - the goat - where reason remains unexplained ...]

discovered sylvia schuster’s art today ...
INCREDIBLE !
[and i rarely use upper case letters]
i should’ve figured as much -
seems like Lally has been hip to her work
for quite a while ...

speaking of Lally - here’s an excerpt from one of my many favorites. lately i’ve been listening to and transferring analog tapes of michael reading his poetry to digital format. he did a number of casual recordings at my studio in venice, ca back in 1988 - of which i became custodian - i hope he shares it with everyone - in his own voice ...
another INCREDIBLE ...

“...let us start anew,
and pledge right now
to each other ...
that we will no longer
take part
in any project,
whether business or art
or any affair of the heart
or collaboration
or conversation
or even thought
that isn’t true ...
so lets start right here
with me
and you
and you ...”
excerpt from “the healing poem”
by Michael Lally © [circa 1988].

if + with ...

fragments, history, and time ...
what threat do libraries represent ...
what truth, in good conscience, can be spoken without regret ...
when does the responsibility of civil disobedience violate patriotism ...
what would john adams and jefferson say ...
what power is everlasting ...
if politics is part of philosophical theory, how can its’ precepts be spoken as truth (vs. consensus) ...
what is the elemental difference between divisive and democratic ...
what is an absolute ...
as i see it, most of us [inhabitants of ‘civilized’ modernity], are nothing more than spoiled, self righteous, entitled dilettantes parasitically attached to the superficial trappings of popular culture with most of our problems stemming from the fact that we have grown callously incapable of ‘feeling’ the humanity that has been bred into us for generations. the seemingly inconsequential convenience of our ‘throw away’, use and abuse society is an illusionists’ invention of modern culture fueled by greed and money - the result of economics gone wild ...
ahh, that feels better ... the result of a lifetime of commitment and about two hours in front of the tv surfing between law & order, csi, planet in peril(cnn), the animal channels doc on animal abuse, commercials for wrestle mania, hulk hogan knows best, brittany spears’ updates, food guzzling competitions, infomercials about trump’s iconic wisdom, and the conservative christian right diatribing liberal tolerance, ... [excluding 4th meal food ads and car commercials showing all the things cars can come equipped with to relieve us from boredom while driving].
we have an obligation to question our own motives - our teachers and leaders; and as part of the checks and balances, the duty to question and object to what easily becomes institutionally driven tunnel vision. it is natural for people to seek comfort levels, but not at the expense of the ‘ideals and ideas’ that institutions are established to uphold.
upon reflection, my self hatred and anger are noticeably present in my daily goings on ...
could have, should have, would have, if ...
what about ‘if’ ... what about kipling’s “if” ...

[IF]

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

edification ramification ...

devil's breath ...

mid october in venice beach is usually pretty damp and cool at night -
cool enough that i would wear a turtleneck and leather coat if i was going out walking.
dressing for warmth is something i never considered til living there (hot, sunny southern ca by the sea and all). on this particular evening, i walked a few miles north on the beach to the santa monica pier - pretty much empty since it was off tourist season, a monday night and gusty winds blowing in from the east strong enough to throw the fisherman off balance - never could figure out why anyone would ever want to eat the fish from the sm bay - locals wouldn't even swim there ...
i took a seat on an isolated section of the far western rail, perched above the crashing waves of the pacific with the wind at my face ... i should be freezing but i was sweating - not just moist, but really doing the verb - most uncommon ... i had to ask one of the frustrated fisherman how he did as he passed ... "no luck in santa anas' " ...
this was my first experience with her - mesmerizing, captivating, and strange - especially in contrast with the feel and sound of the ocean below ...
another time i felt something similar was on the costa del sol in southern spain with the hot dry winds from north africa blowing across the mediterranean - but nothing really compares to santa ana ...
a prayer for the safety of all being affected ...

from Michael Shaw -10.10.05 - blame it on the wind.
There is also the psychological component, the Santa Ana's mysterious and soul-vexing quality. Police agencies have attributed a jump in crime to these harsh winds, while hard-boiled detective fiction writer Raymond Chandler called the Santa Anas:

"Those hot dry [winds] that come down through mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen."

Or, take journalist/essayist/novelist Joan Didion's description of this phenomenon:

"I have neither heard nor read that a Santa Ana is due, but I know it, and almost everyone I have seen today knows it too. We know it because we feel it. The baby frets. The maid sulks. I rekindle a waning argument with the telephone company, then cut my losses and lie down, given over to whatever it is in the air. To live with the Santa Ana is to accept, consciously or unconsciously, a deeply mechanistic view of human behavior."

a. behind a painting ...

"the fundamental fact that argues for the importance of the act of painting, is that painters spend their entire lives working with paint. there must be a reason ... it is the paint that is so absorbing, so deeply attractive, that a life spent in a studio can be a bearable life.
it is no wonder that painters can be so entranced by paint. substances occupy the mind profoundly, tethering moods to thoughts, tangling stray feelings with the movement of the body, engaging the full capacity of response and concentrating it on unpromising lumps of paint and color. there is no meaning that cannot seem to flow from the paint itself..."
'what painting is'
james elkins/2000

waning crescents ...

"if light is scarce then light is scarce; we will immerse ourselves in the darkness and there discover its own particular beauty".
jun ichiro tanizaki,
in praise of shadows, 1977

blue dog's dermis ...

'You're the only man who doesn't remember anything of what he's dreamed after he wakes up.'

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Eyes of a Blue Dog.