#5 Back 2 the StudiO

#5  Back 2 the StudiO 

31.

Night Studio, added 

all the paintings, remembered 

gave them a more abstract quality

so he was finishing off 

the aspen paintings--

the lagoon depth 

and needed to strengthen the

surface, he felt 

of the Madrid work by painting 

once again

they were there, now

kind of, then saw, 

he was painting it all together 

and then the western 

sunflower paintings 

seemed still disparate 

and there he saw 

he wanted to see, still 

more combinations 

made in the shuffling 

of the stack 

the hi and low

winter to sun to sunset 

color to blue sky

naturalistic-- in STRANGER

32.

color, made that other flavor

and then kept wanting 

to put it all together

then “that Nature thing”

he said-- "he would try to speak for it" 

hadn’t just gone and become 

“cowboy painter--”

that early modernism attracted him

before it was consumed 

before it lost it's nature to 

the conventions

by now no one would house

these ideas

blocked from sight, 

lost to any real 

any new depth or possibility of

He said, way long ago, "the whole 

Art World needed to take a break,

off in a refreshment ..." in 

the going back, 

no, we would have no choice 

but to go “Forward “ into Nature,” 

leap frogging that archetypal 

cliché, jumping 

into the ocean of

33.

Death, the change 

Nature all change

the distance

renewing, to being 

reborn

• 
  

Hey YOU, put back that tree!

and flower--

and bird, singing

we can figure a new 

way, new day

“a rustling in the woods”

the old Jewish scholar

the poets 

following the seasons

38.

the quest towards

death making Beauty

the poem became, the Knowing

became then the, religion--

Knock Knock, any body home? now

arguing about dinosaurs--

in grade school--

that Gregory, was singing--

along-- stung— laughing, 

hurting, the injustice-- ALONE

a mysticism in between, he guessed?

and wisdom in known

rational flat reality

form, imagination again

could take lead,

• 
  

but there was no RIGOR, out there

in nature, that was the problem

this was ART, we were talking

but, never getting near

from a snap shot tourist

• 
  

41.

“the new, the new” he proclaimed 

looking his age, big smile

now! the mountain 

stream tumbles

GREY leaves, jimble and jump

scatter, as before 

the clouds pass, pass-- 

sliding over the top

all the poems 

inner forms, repeated

over and over in HIS notebook

cartoon shapes tumbling

It starts with the SUN!

identifies the HERO!

metaphor of a blossom

that leafy pink, he saw

goes through season, and 

geographic direction, south 

or west or 

north

back east, SUN heightens

and loses moment, 

dying

creates the BEAUTY, we seek 

to keep from, the clouds

42.

the leaves

the waves, 

that poet’s space

the Giotto blue, 

the Villa red

old and tattered

poop in poverty, 

rich in splattered 

sun, 

the dreamed of—

clouds, puff puff

SHADOWS, on Alpine Mountain

deep blue sky

it would arrive again, even 

as the wind grew cold

grabbing his coat around his throat

HE WAS IN THAT movie

the thread, why, how, 

have we lost 

even that? 

• 
  

IT drops away, in this pressure for,

this competition for

BU--ULLY--for--

Immediate is-- All--

44.

just wipe it out

here, this BLACK PAINT SCRIBBLE

wipe it out

orange paint, BIBBLE

wait this is some STRANGE heightening

so, one is cynical

skeptical

hopeful pose--

EASE at world weary--

ness-- pose, no time for that

though, he was still untired,

he was still searching

nosing around

still seeming good stuff

around

his own ideas would keep him on

going on

He was OK

each day reading on the F train

he was thumbing a book of 

Jewish Mysticism

all underlined now 

mysticism as poetry, it read

inner reality, were the forms of 

nature reflected into a being

45.

being, all revolving

some total

feeling

seeing this!

idea of ONE

but falls, into opposite

still he couldn't figure

how it seemed, the reality was there

HE

Painted all this, simple.

painted up to-- and all around

when all of a sudden 

THE PAINTINGS would all just finish

themselves, one by one

done! finished!

their surfaces could take no more

IT WASN'T MAGIC, to hold it up--

life to the sky

the trophy

life itself

OR WAS it?

the compounding metaphor

flower in the sun

never tiring, blue

46.

staring back

he was painting that lagoon, again

that dreaming place, it was 

indifferent, YES

the floating paint, black and white

bands of color, 

stripes making a surface

the room to breathe and daydream

the dramatic to tragic

he needed that space, 

some stars, he thought

untitled, in the stars, maybe-- 

Jack never thought 

he’d get this far,

to see them all stacked up

like playing cards

a Parcheesi game

of life, Joker sticking 

out behind 

line of Fashion Model standing there 

but Johnny just liked that line --

stars above broken leaves

the sunset diamonds

and aspen eye

everything together-- sunflower 

47.

seeds dribbling behind, striped

couldn’t do this before

Goya image all over hatched

and Sunflower,

CRISPEN HERO!

adds up--"and the snow came down, 

and covered up poetry"

“make drawings of the wall,” he said

his supreme fiction

the content that seemed 

real from the repeating

and overlay of this to that

he saw it from the first

flat footed there

reality, 

well, his extreme invention 

from dark to light, 

the light each day, 

the light, the hero from the east

sun comes up

the sun goes down 

this natural fact

forms our, MY spirit

seemed,

we were zipping past 

48.

looking back on, ideas 

half formed thrown aside 

for a new--

ONWARD! voyaging poet, 

through SPLASHING WAVE

SUPREME FICTION, 

and ADAM 

in the morning

starting off

the adventure into art, 

the experience, in the pokeweed

abstracted TO HEIGHT, what was seen

falling back around 

through, THE stars,

STARS