Beaded Linseed and the Gaping Jaw

     The memories that form the foundation of this place are old. Old as the world really perhaps older as things seem to exist here half in and half out of the dark and the light. Souls walked this land, marked the sky and tilled the soil as the Aztecs spilled blood and the Mayans measured the span of the heavens. My lineage heart first felt the gravity of this continent in 1912 so in this ocean I could be said to be a novice in the interpretation of the windings of the earthen tide. But all the earth is joined under the water, under the sky, and there is a memory living in blood that runs through the enatic line. A curse or a gift, superstition or sight, forgotten tales are embroidered red on crisp white linen.

     High above the cemetery stark against the cornflower blue sky there is a brilliant white shade flowing, billowing with the wind. It is gone when I breast the hill. At the end of the yard, under the century spruce, a small body huddles in pain. A broken leg…or perhaps it is missing…tilts the course and direction is lost careening through the trees. A numbing blackness empties beaded eyes as jaws unhinge to advance on the frozen rictus of a garden toad. These signs number three, supposedly a mystical number. But nature and the layers of ritual that shape it are never subtle. Multiple auguries chime in the wind of change.

     Change is the little death as we move from the old to the new. Change is the great death, an unknown dark abyss that brackets breath and the cessation of all hearts. Even then its course is not stayed. Change is the ticking of the clock, the undulation of the wheat, the bird in the air and the cold bite of snow. Change is the slow spreading smile, the tear that falls and the blooming rose above the granite of the tomb. A wind that rises under the light of day echoes the steps of an invisible multitude. The same wind that rises under the canopy of night is crowned in a tiara of stars and the dark that holds the key to the wild mysteries of the universe. It never ends, it follows all, it is all. Interlocking, life and death feed upon each other. The ground that we stand on does not exist without the sacrifice and renewal of the substance that weaves our reality. The act of creation is change and death is inherent in the first gasp of existence.

     Purification…I burned canvases tonight. I was tired of looking at them and I think they were tired of looking at me. An overly dramatic device for any painter and not entirely original. I called the Prodigal to take the dog out, as a witness I think. We artistic types always need a witness to the completion of our acts…not only the act of creation but the act of destruction as well; a polar opposite twinned in power and absolution. They were becoming nothing, existing in a state of flux, waiting for a fulfillment; a purpose that I felt would never come and so onto the burn pile they went.

     The best of all was the oil canvas that sweated and then bled linseed. The oil beaded on the dark blue surface liquid in the glow of the flames and then poured in runnels feeding the heat until the final burst of energy and light released the potential in a blaze of orange and azure. The fire pushed through the canvas tearing away at painted rock and the velvet of the horn and the blended green of two dimensional leaves. The fire burned brighter as it fed upon my labour, devouring it, changing it and freeing it to the star crowned mysterious night.

     The signs called for change.

 

          

    

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10 thoughts on “Beaded Linseed and the Gaping Jaw

  1. hi boy!!!!i\’m an italian girl and i want say wit persons of other leanguages.my mail addres is flo94f@libero.it  .please contact me!!!!!

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  2. Brilliant! The photo takes it . Changes scrub the soul clean , letting us grow a new skin . I am impressed that you finished your work with fire Lorna . I have been accused of never finishing anything I start . It starts off big guns and then something flitters and catched the corner of my eye . The snakes are always after me but I have evaded them so far.

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  3. @Toad
    Fire and brimstone, augury and signs…the old ways are the best aren\’t they Mr. Toad? The ancient "things" that lurk just out of sight are always waiting… if you choose to see…;P
     
    @Cheryl
    I am rather wordy and according to the Prodigal Son quite overly dramatic…does that count? =)
     
    @Brenda
    GIRL…where have you been? The last time I tried to drop by and see you I pulled up the "Access Denied" window.
    Anyway I think pyro is the right word…for us all. Every since that old Prometheus showed us the way mankind has been trying to "burn down the house" *wince* lol.
    ;^D
    Lorna
     

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  4. Lorna – wow.
     
    Forgive me if I have asked and forgotten, for my mind is-well, weird and strange – like this: like, sometimes I can\’t recall if something was a dream or really happened, or did I day dream it , or or….*sigh* but, have you tried to publish your words? So unique and beautiful and ethereal…
     

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  5. I love reading your words… like poetry.  So many shun change, they fear it rather than embracing it.  Somehow change lifts my spirit… I look forward to it, even tiny ones that often go unnoticed or are overlooked.  The length of the grass… the bloom of a new flower or the leaves on an oak tree turning upside down before the rain… I love change.  I\’ve been told that my life is too unpredictable… that there are too many surprises and that this confuses those around me… I\’d be bored to tears if I had to live my life by routine… orderly.

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  6. @Mandy
    Thanks. It\’s always nice to see someone new drop by.
     
    @Kathryn
    As always you are very generous. I\’ve never tried to publish anything. I don\’t know that any of this is substantial enough for print. I\’ve only been at it for a short time. If you can believe it, as wordy as I must seem here, growing up I was the quiet one in my family so this is really new territory for me.
     
    @Edie
    It does not surprise me that you embrace change. Sometimes when I read your entries they are so filled with light and acceptance I think that you just fill yourself up with everything that life has to offer and look around for seconds ;D
    Not many people can be that brave. Kudos!
    L

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