Oh Russia…

From my notebook: Key West March 2013

Since being a young music student I was fascinated with Russian musicians, writers and poets. From the decibel bursts of Stravinsky and Mussorgsky to the emboldened words of Pushkin and Dostoevsky. Since then I abandoned the violin for being hopelessly mediocre at it but I could never abandoned the education it gave me. Once you have peeked into the soul of the Russian arts it seems to have permanently nested in the branches of you mind.

russian influence

Images in “Sculpting in Time” of scenes of Andrei Rublev

One of my biggest influences is that of filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky. If you are an artist that values the ethical and moral path of being a creative you only need to watch Andrei Rublev to obtain understanding what art should truly be about. Tarkovsky states: “An artist never works under ideal conditions. If they existed, his work wouldn`t exist, for the artist doesn`t live in a vacuum. Some sort of pressure must exist. The artist exists because the world is not perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn`t look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world. This is the issue in Andrey Rublyov” (1969). This idea ties in with Leo Tolstoy’s’ believe in what is good art – that for the sincere artist art is a great matter, not a pleasure, not a solace or an amusement but that it should be respected as the organ of human life.

I will be visiting Russia next month and I can only hope for the art muse to await me…

Keep awake, keep awake, artist,
Do not give into sleep…
Your are eternity’s hostage
And prisoner of time.

~ Boris Pasternak

By |2017-05-02T12:59:54-04:00April 26th, 2013|

The Unethical Artist

Sulfur drapes like an anorak

contemptible stench of seaweed

your soul

Mosquito larvae breeding grounds

sinking away in your mud

others talent

you are the swamp of inverted values

By |2017-05-02T12:59:55-04:00April 17th, 2013|

Pockets full of rocks.

jonkerwoolf

My Notebook Key West 2013

I woke up in the middle of the night and desperately scribbled down my dream in the notebook next to my bed. The next morning I had a faded feeling that I might have had an epiphany. This was written in my notes…

Two women are walking hand in hand in the dark which seem to be on a dry salt pond. I can only make out their silhouettes. As they were walking towards me I recognized them being the writers Virginia Woolf and Ingrid Jonker and I overheard their conversation.

Ingrid Jonker: “Our pockets are full of rocks.
Virginia Woolf: ” It is because Art is like constantly eating delicious cake without ever picking up weight or getting diabetes.”
Ingrid Jonker: ” It is because Art is like constantly having diabetes and being morbidly obese without ever eating cake.”

I can hear the crunch of the salt under their feet and the soft clanging of stones or rocks. The two women now look similar as the physical qualities of Woolf and Jonker melted together. As they passed me they spoke out of one mouth saying:

“There always will be rocks in your pockets, but only if you swallow them will they become cake.”

By |2017-07-12T13:03:43-04:00March 2nd, 2013|
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