#7 Back 2 the StudiO
COMING forward
the clap of hands THE TRUTH
he felt the, THERE!
it was the spot
in time, the stop
THAT LASTED
the red and yellow shield, the--
most people just feel this or not
he shrugged his sholders,
THE STAYING POWER of--
but he remembered
how he had learned it
seemed it was in the language,
it seemed the structure of his mind,
change and evolution
death, life
back and forth, this
keeps evolving
he didn't want it to get old
and rot
like the squash, the POET described
22.
sprayed with frost
he like the tumbling effect
nature of it all
being in the city
in the center of thought
deeply planted
in this different garden
not that aimless type, he was yelling
to GET OUT
OF THE WAY, you tourist!
he didn’t think, he could paint
them any better
Jack needed to back off
not to finish them off
he wondered if this height
of finish
would be prelude to
Road Movie, and-- fall
to, jump cut
and crop
blow up
a funny irony
distance from nature, he complained of--
what was really,
going on? REVOLVING CYCLE
23.
running through,
here it came
the overlapping
out of order, stuff
blocking the landscape
he saw it
in the contemporary
squares of signs
the ovals, the triangles,
lines drooping
from poles, drawing, he thought
THIS was ALL in the way
he didn’t want to paint it--
didn't seem to belong
to the imaginations
ordering,
revealing
larger whole
all the broken --curving
parts
outside of view
yes, OH MY!
to live in eternal time--
THE TREE UP THERE
on the mountain--
he would think about
that on the F train
eternal art repeated
some essay doomed
Orange square over THE
top
of everything
obscuring everything
blocking, everything out
yet, strangely revealing
25.
he said, the crows
outside, calling--
its October and the cool
signals the Autumn,
he would speak
with the authority of knowing
Knowledge, seemed to be, of --
wisdom a realization of
limitation
beauty, no doubt
Damn--
this is sloppy but then
like flung paint
how he loved
the leavings of
the paint, the abstraction
or other reality
of it –
keep to that surface
he remembered that leaf emerging
from a final surface
alive before--
it became wooden
DECORATION twirling down
two squares
the piles and stacks
house and universe,
hidden beneath, under
a lagoon like stripe
that blue figure, was stark
fierce, THAT WORD
...like the leaves themselves.
SURPRISE
those sunset colors
into violet, then GREEN
packed them up
into his head each
night as he fell
to sleep through the stars
they led him
27.
unloading them again on
the train rumbling
in the little drawings
repeating and
afraid he was going
to wear them
out, in their goings over
Well, back to the studio, he said
he had to get back, to it
he was telling me, he said
he'd been out there
looking for refreshment
for his art, and now
he was back, back to the workings
in the studio
the real work was
answers are in the work
the process, in his head
"all there is"
this poem is part of
that inside, of the work
speaking from there
sitting there in the library
that’s better
but he was still far away
28.
he'd know when he was back on it
like the old days
the nerve of her!
telling him the truth, he thought
all his self consciousness
So Much TALK
all his ordering
she called Ideology
he wasn’t sure
but it led him back
to look, the studio
you see he was a painter
"its all about the paint"
we work with all these extremes
then you have some meaning
the two and the one
the whirlwind
where they meet
be brave then--in the studio
he sat there writing
he sat there drawing him, writing
he sat there writing
some communication, obliquely
destroying and recreating cosmos
the hierOphony
30.
revealing sacred illumination
infinite over and over
"this descriptive world to
trope," He thought
inward, through mythic
road
then dazzlingly! present
world making
formlessness, to
the returning
violence
re--
birthing, of
new worlds cycling
wheels and wheels
circles of hell and earth
and extension to heaven
he shivered, he heard a rustling
there in the aspen woods
as he painted
that light--
he didn't often talk of that kind
of light on the trees
the yellow gold,
shimmer shake
31.
a shiver
daimonic eruption
allegory of otherness
slipping through
in transparent mirror
the cycles
showing each
in turn, the nothing--
arriving to a surface
reality represented
THERE! THE REALITY
Here, feel it, the older
god, this recognition--
ah ha!
the bird flutters and lights
upon a branch there—
the god is
Dionysian release
light flicker
divine speech, being gripped
by new man
repeating
I’m in this vertical world
alive to night of symbols
shamanic leadings
32.
that moment we knew
then fell from
the carnival
at the end, opening
on eternal time
through unconscious repetition through
archetype
he was creating his own sacred
time
he guessed it would all be tossed
soon enough
phase of the moon
eternal merging
into a mobile--
mobile home, door banging
of this studio return
colors of grey, white, and tan
a shadowed porch view
garden walkway
his, Orange Square contained there
33.
a temple to that moment seen
Yodeling at this mountain height!
through abstract gods
beyond communication
commemorating
his ship was turning
and the winter melting and gone
he was arriving
it looked like another war
couldn’t escape this politic
like the bad old 70’s again somehow
trying to paint through it all
the black is coming on
the Studio mind--
with this big hero painting
within modernist architecture
of considered-- walls!
its spring again!
drawn from the imagination
trace it over
a romantic line, trace
image of an image
then that different, exactness
ROMANTIC TRUTH is that it?
what of a blue canvas with
34.
a orange square --forgot that
some drawing in the blue—
deeper, to make a space
studio WALL
37.
red WALL paintings tumbling
in swastika like Indian fashion
day night, day night
day month, day month
day, year
year, life
words, word another life
into the second world
a rabbit hole entry
studio mind
archetypal house
escaping figures
thoughts scattering, fleeing
light, burn it down
in frenzy of youth
house blown apart, the
leaves blow through
clouds in time lapse
ocean wave tumbles
to perfect shape
he was trying to get all
the left over parts of all those
years to come together
into something
he leant the painting against the wall
38.
shuffling and reshuffling
then, like a game of life
is that it-- the mirror
the lamp, there,
that whole feeling
there a part, inspected
of a world
--and that’s what he'd been
wanting to say
"the form between things"
a world flying through
the stars revolving
THE STUDIO, it mirrored
this mind
in space
"Ariel was glad
he had written his poems"
at night in winter
in the night studio
THE WESTERN SUN,
western sky, he meant
the western distance
that future sky
ever turning
into season
39
direction and
skies, he didn't care
the distance and death
in the trial
of the landscape
he was dismissed
for the thing itself
he was straddling a line
a life, all this extra crap
sticking out
pilling up the paintings
this distance he folded it up like
a newspaper into his overcoats breast
liking, this combination
recombining
cartoon symbol
endlessly, mirroring
I am, that is, I am blank,
that GOD the rock, is
in between
is
of course, Jack was real
the rock was real
stabbing in between all
the fingers was real
this knife stuck in his hand was
REAL
REAL
he painted, he painted
all he had at the moment
cycle-- if he was dead--
Mir-ac-le-- Mir-ac-el
42.
bang!
the big orange square
would be the monument
more than a just nuanced flavor
it would be-- NOW!
see, one would see! creates the
NOW!
in icy barren snow
that abstract
severe word, Heaven
in clouds the rippling up--
of THUNDER head
rumbling, F
static rapping in headphones
like train, ti dump, ti dumpt
visible graffiti
eating away the foundation
like the moments lost
slow motion nodding
out, he was sitting there reading
Themes,
the mysticism in--
all about the romance quest
in a thought-- like here what Jack thought
the mirroring mythos,
43.
the seasonal--
height and depth
achieved and reconciled
it was just a theory of life
it just was
He could see it
the rapping earphones
we all stand by irritated
the other guy chanting
something from the torah
all revolving
Yeah, he had it all figured out--
yesterday, it had even
changed his irritated mood
he was moved to elation
HE had FORGOTTEN, THE CHAOS
newly ordered, he felt
a fresh-- a brand new
knowing! his purpose!
and now he had forgotten-- just what
exactly it was--
his thoughts fell
through, and down
through all the tumbling
images
44.
searching all over
through the paintings
it was there somewhere
He believed it!
all these piles
a life,
the photos he took
proved it! not wanting to
forget or to lose, the old BIO stuff
like a review,
what someone else thought
that, old studio
he was trying to put it
all together as-- he didn't know yet
what--hope,
its not the nostalgia
for that mountain? or just following
some IDEOLOGY!
or is it the reality of those stars
the object in space
or the space itself
or this modern, doubt
of illusion
doubting realism
paint a new reality instead,
45.
he said
or descriptions of a, environment
there intimate and then
with a second thought or revision
some, heightening
to some abstraction, or perspective
seen, taken apart-- formally
the shapes and the colors
line representative of
or in themselves, interesting
he didn’t want to forget the Tree
didn’t think Rothko
wanted to forget the
Myth, the RED
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