|Champignonnière (Mushroom bed) from D M I spectacles - Michala Marcus, Odille Pellissier, Charente, Fr.|
|Vidéodanse - Eglise de Rauzet*|
ALERT: Tonight, another full MOON - it always brings a soupçon of madness...
"I am out to induce a psychic shock into my painting, one that is always
motivated by pictorial reasoning, that is to say a fourth dimension." - Marc Chagall
|"Waters of Life" - Painting by Marc Chagall|
|The Moon, The Wild Green Chagallian Tarot|
A dear friend sent me this lyrical tarot deck by Penelope Cline, who used the whimsical figures of Marc Chagall for inspiration. Twenty-two major arcana cards painted in gouache on heavy watercolor paper. "Poetry in Paint" - www.figtreepress.co.uk
I've laid the cards out under a moon beam. The Perigee moon in July is also known as the Buck Moon & Thunder Moon. Young male deer will be sprouting their antlers as the first of three visible supermoons makes its appearance in 2014.
|My brother Mark - San Rafael, Ca.|
Meanwhile, back in California, digging with a pick and shovel through his storage unit - amidst the six chess sets and 35,000 books - my brother found this Polaroid photo of Kev & I on the Sonoma Train, circa 1985.
We seem improbably young. We had just bought our first home in Forest Knolls, on the edge of Papermill Creek. We had to beg, borrow - stopping short of stealing - to get our foot through the door of California real estate. We were taking a chance on this house, situated on a flood plain. In 1982, a 100 year flood had swept thru Forest Knolls & the surrounding towns and counties. I was living in Fairfax, Ca. at the time, but had gone to Scammons Lagoon in Baja, Ca. with a bunch of kayakers to explore the largest Gray Whale nursery in Baja. The mothers & baby whales came right up to the kayaks; I had the privilege of touching a baby whale.
|Neighboring San Anselmo 1982 historic flood|
Since the house had flooded before and there was the likelihood of it happening again, no flood insurance was to be had. And we probably could not have afforded it even if there were. And sure enough, a few years later, the rain, she came, and the waters started rising again. I wrote a poem about it, "On the Edge of Papermill Creek". One of the illustrious literary lions from our writing group, Mike R. kindly sent it off to the Coastal Post, where it was published in the May 1, 1995 issue. But by then we were living ON the water in a houseboat in Sausalito on Issaquah Dock.
|Issaquah Dock, Sausalito, CA.|
When it began raining non-stop in France in November, each day became another soggy Groundhog Day; a répétition of rivers rising, memories "flooding" back. I looked for the poem and badgered my poor old writing pals to see if they could conjure up a copy, but alas, nada, & unless there was a hard copy somewhere the only other record was on an old hard drive in a computer bone yard somewhere.
Then in May, back in California, one of the moldy storage boxes coughed up a copy from the Coastal Post - dingue! (unreal)
Now here's where it gets kind of spooky, fourth dimensional, Twilight Zone-ish.
|Jacques Henri Lartigue, 1931 - Renee Perle|
I woke up in the middle of the night to the dark, rushing sounds of Papermill Creek spilling over its banks, closing in on the house. From my bed I could see trees ripped from their roots, amputated branches caught on boulders - all spinning in a wild vortex, an unstoppable maelstrom. I did not leave the bed, but could see the water mounting the deck, covering the kitchen floorboards. A line from Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" was running thru my head: "I Sing the Body Electric". I felt my body to be electrified & some grander portion of myself split off, rose above me, floating out over the creek where I opened my arms and with all my strength & all my might, I "pushed" the waters back.
|Marc Chagall - Stained glass window from a little church at Tudeley in Kent|
"I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul." - Walt Whitman
|Picasso Painting in Light - 1949|
Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Our adjacent neighbors, a harpist and guitarist from the group Platero, had their house on stilts, so they were ok, but everyone else along the creek flooded...except for us. Much later I found out the 100th episode of Twilight Zone was titled, "I Sing the Body Electric".
|Toni Frisselle - 1939|
I love this piece below my brother wrote in response to the Tarot forecasting I did of my friend Annie's moment of passing when I got back from California. I think it applies to all of the esoteric arts and that which we cannot see, but know is there, like the invisible hand that supports us.
|Annie & Bill - Geocaching Triumph - Abbaye de Boschaud - May 2013|
Blog dedicated to Ann Duvall who graced us with her presence - Feb. 1, 1948 - June 15, 2014. I feel you all around me.
|Anna Oneglia - annaoneglia.com|
every green chassis brushes a sunny dominance
dog ghosts the garden merrily absence boasts presence
gesture upon gesture, sans discussion, the body of love rises
splashing cool water in the smooth chamber
beneath the climbing vine, the mound of earth has settled
grief requires a body and someone looking back
faraway whistling, hips rusting
Stephanie Marlis from Fine
*Photos from the Eglise at Rauzet, a couple of miles from us where a dance collective
did some posing in the upper reaches of the Nave. Beautiful to see the human shapes against the stone.