General

Castle of Illusion

Land and sites engaged the illusion,
made perfect the wholeness, hiding
hollowness. Empty windows watched,
the Ego isolated within, disturbed.
Cairn of ancestors, bitter wind,
vacant feel part of its landscape,
our own psyche apart from it.

This blackout poem is based on a post, Hunting the Unicorn: Shells and Fruits,
written by Sue Vincent and posted at The Silent Eye.  I encourage you to read it.
The image is an edited/layered version of  two of Sue’s photos.
~~ Thank you to Sue for her inspiration and for graciously accepting my offering. ~~

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and this is true too with art. What one-person thinks is brilliant the next may think is promising to the point of being hopeful the said artist may make it someday.

Over the years, I have been subjected to numerous debates over art as art. What is it, and what makes art art?

The great thing about the creative arts is that the artist, the writer, the musician and the choreographer can all be creative in their chosen fields and yet be the subject of criticism.

For me, it’s often been about the skill of the artist. Does their work appeal to me in any way? Do I find myself caught up in the creativity before me? It’s always a subjective opinion, and to me, that’s what matters.

The diversity of opinion is what makes art such a compelling aspect…

Reena is the host of Reena’s Exploration Challenge.  Reena asks us to write to the following photo, wherever our creative spirit takes us.

This is not a cohesive essay, more stream of consciousness.

Many, including myself, believe that being comes from non-being, then being returns to non-being when a cycle is completed. When it comes to human beings, I have to ask myself, when is the cycle complete. Is it one body’s life, from conception and until that body returns to humus? What about consciousness and soul, which seem separate from physical being to me?

When I look at the picture, I see individuals coming into being from non-being. When does God pull out the eraser and say it’s over?

All of the drawings are of men. It makes me wonder why the artist chose only men to draw. Is there a story that explains it?

My first thought…

Stony silence,

Expression, is it in common parlance?

Or a lack thereof?

Must definitely make sense to the receptor, kind of,

Saddening sorrow,

Like there’s no morrow,

Expression, that causes relief ,

Or heightens the very grief,

Persistent pain,

As if the healing would go in vain,

Expression, that renders sympathy,

Or perhaps showcases from others a lack of empathy,

Anguishing anger,

Emerging from an episode of clanger*,

Expression, that reverberates an outburst,

Or demands an apology first,

Horrendous horror,

Masses fleeing in terror,

Expression, that elicits sadism from some,

Or reclusiveness from those preferring to keep mum,

Candor courage,

Arising from adversity, or preventing oneself from other’s rage,

Expression, that elicits appreciation from some,

Or jealously and hatred from those coming to terms, succumb,

Scintillating surprises,

From love, compassion, it arises,

Expression, that brings a surge of emotions to the fore,

That which brings the reciprocation sentiment to the…

हर शाम लेकर बैठता हूँ
कागज़ का एक टुकड़ा
मिटाना चाहता हूँ यादें
पर नज़र आते हैं साये में
कितने भूले बिसरे चेहरे

छूना चाहता हूँ फिर से
एक बार उन चेहरों को
तराशता हूँ उनको अपनी
कूंची की नाज़ुक लकीरों से
जाग उठती हैं फिर यादें

कब समझेगा पागल मन
निरर्थक है यह उपक्रम
न मिटा पायूँगा ये यादें
न ही भूल पाउँगा वो चेहरे
हर रोज़ ही होगी यह शाम

In response to: Reena’s Exploration Challenge # 93