so the way this went was up in bed this morning after second coffee. only paper sticky notes (pink) sitting quiet spacey then this came first the tongues then other bits. Now I’ll transcribe into first ruff draft. this time using keyboard. sometimes a yellow pad is the first transcription. Sometimes there is only one sometimes there are many edits, the number depends on my things but mostly on my self. some photos of the original notes as you may see it is part of the illegible scribble that is an integral part of the process .
So the first bit =
And she said look
And I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along the green hills a silver streak above the valley
a river mirroring catching sapphires between the roiling cumulus clouds….
SO Right away i notice too many the’s breaking up the image. Also I need to look up cumulus to make sure hos are the clouds I want… lets try it this way ~
she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along green hills a silver streak along the valley
a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between cumulus clouds
Or Wait Maybe This ?
she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along green hills a silver streak along the valley
a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between the cumulus…
So as you can tell or if not let me tell you it is a longish process sometimes. Anyway here’s the rest a first ruff ~
How the Goddess of Wisdom Taught Me the Tarantella
she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along green hills a silver streak along the valley
a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between the cumulus
she said sing
so i offered
breathless wordless a what else can i do but be true refrain
so the way this went was up in bed this morning after second coffee. only paper sticky notes (pink) sitting quiet spacey then this came first the tongues then other bits. Now I’ll transcribe into first ruff draft. this time using keyboard. sometimes a yellow pad is the first transcription. Sometimes there is only one sometimes there are many edits, the number depends on my things but mostly on my self. some photos of the original notes as you may see it is part of the illegible scribble that is an integral part of the process .
So the first bit =
And she said look
And I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along the green hills a silver streak above the valley
a river mirroring catching sapphires between the roiling cumulus clouds….
SO Right away i notice too many the’s breaking up the image. Also I need to look up cumulus to make sure hos are the clouds I want… lets try it this way ~
she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along green hills a silver streak along the valley
a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between cumulus clouds
Or Wait Maybe This ?
she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along green hills a silver streak along the valley
a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between the cumulus…
So as you can tell or if not let me tell you it is a longish process sometimes. Anyway here’s the rest a first ruff ~
How the Goddess of Wisdom Taught Me the Tarantella
she said look so I did seeing the play of sunlight slip
along green hills a silver streak along the valley
a river mirroring, catching sapphires from between the cumulus
she said sing
so i offered
breathless wordless a what else can i do but be true refrain
One of the most wonderful things about the current techno age is that there are no borders between artists. I am able to meet and connect with people/artists from all The the world most of which I never would have heard of let alone converse with a few decades ago. Some are inspirational to my own work. Many are so supportive of what at times is a lonely, discouraging, depressing art form which I indulge in – basically I am a poet of isolation. or so it seems sometimes.
Anyway about this blog post; Billie Hanne is a choreographer, dancer, director, artist, teacher based in Brussels. www.billiehanne.net Some how a few years back I was lucky enough to “discover” her and the art she is involved with. I got to watch via Vimeo, her Map Of Antarctica. Details of the production as well a a free link to the video of the performance are below. The stills by Julyen Hamilton and others are from that evening. There are about five minuets of the dance before any words are spoken. That silence is what inspired the poetry I have written. Generously I have been granted prior permission to use the images and video link which I hope, a bit selfishly I must admit, will enhance the quality of my own words. Please consider reading and viewing. Thank you
( stills from camera by Julyen Hamilton and others)
~~~
Dreams of old ships an astringency of ghosts breathe
birthing sounds blue whale slips of silver fishes rime glow among the rigging sailors lost gulls cry
dying sounds grate crack rub ribbon such tender flesh unable to be offered other than in delirium
before words come slight sapphiric dakini slew such movement no ladder no stairway no haven no need
the first meeting sky earth begot ice
the first meeting sun ice begot the wordless woman
she alone with open mouth barefoot of silence taught all there ever was to know about birth and its opposite twins of the same blood spread.
~~~
this world that does not need our words sustains us much like the wounds of my heart. mind, they are not other than self-inflicted opened for the suckling exposed for the penetrating.
do not think, who is the hero? do not think, who is the predator? rather think – what would you be without me.
as above so below as within so without
~~~
the wood of my old bones search your more limber touch without silence there is no noise in ice green dreams breathe the whiskery strength of which crossed a world now firm in your embrace splinters
The Girl Call her flower by moonlight Cypress by spring Watch from the evening Change to grey misty morning Across the spider down day Leaving the Stars Behind
~
The Girl Walks on her toes Sneakers let the ballet Peer out with wonder Amid this morning garden Slipping into shade Who gives you pentagrams And whispers river lily secrets When your musings get too heavy?
in the middle of the night Frigidaire dim glow secret chocolate cake ice cold India Pale Ales curtains swayed by open windows bare feet on linoleum slow dance blessed by an absence of air conditioning not missing the tango at all
in memory of the best India Pale Ale ever made and for some stupid reason no longer ,in an age of speciality beers, still made. Shame on pabst blue ribbon, falstaff company.
it went quite well with chocolate cake, sweltering summers and young love
six days paid for by the company never been myself hear the bugs are as big as a man’s fist land is flat colour primarily brown the water tastes and stinks like rotten eggs.
its a place where people who couldn’t make it here, go to live, to retire, to skip out on court cases
and those few who came back? only seem to drink more, die slower, than if they hadn’t.
a place of no return. the broken, the old, the TV show violence.
but maybe the kid would like it? maybe we’d be near a quiet beach, manatees and gators ? Spanish? No. Aztec, gold washed up by some last weeks storm. and what would we do with that blood money? unable to throw it back splash dance sing all Jackie sparrow pirate.
