Tuesday, May 6, 2008

breath



This is the breath of the warm warm sea, as it exhales upon a stretch of cold sand. I feel it breathing on my skin from where I am, the point at which one becomes the other:
Sand, sea.
Day, night.
Water, land.

I tried to smell the whiff of kelp that came calling, when I was nose-deep, but I found my chest so contracted I couldn't draw the smell into my body at all, no.

All I can say is that I am thankful indeed for sapphire blue, in which I am currently immersed, I am so glad for that.



What dements me?
Let me tell you.
One thing among many, but the only one I'll tell today,

Being halfway towards a lovely load of work, and right on cue, the collective consciousness makes the same moves.
Specifically, Tim Winton and Bill Viola

So when the time comes, you, my blogfriends, will have to fill the gallery with your presence and let not a single person whisper the words,
"ooh, that reminds me of Tim Winton's Book Cover."



Anyway, I have much to do. I am completely immersed, the sapphire blue my saving grace, and I am going now, to dive into that wonderful hue, and paint all day, all day, all day, and fight off the longings in my heart.

Back to linoprinting soon.


Postscript:
As my dear friend just told me, "get over it: you don't own water!!!" ha ha

15 comments:

bluemountainsmary said...

I'll be right there alongside you. Just tell me when!

Thank you for further entrenching the phrase "that dements me" into popular language!

little red hen said...

Oh I know what you mean, I have been quietly working- very slowly - on a series of pear paintings, rich in my own personal symbolism but everywhere I look I seem to see pear paintings and pictures it dements me! and people do own pears, maybe I'll just own my own orchard!

(Re- your question on my post: a babette blanket just refers to a blanket made using colourful closed granny squares made in a variety of sizes rather than the regular squares. When finished they remind me of the patterns in Klimts work, which I love and can get lost in, hence I decided to give it a go myself.)

Reluctant Blogger said...

Yes, how does that happen? It often does to me. When I write something I truly believe to be original I find about ten other people have written much the same thing at the same time. It happens with names too - how do people come up with the same unusual names for babies all at the same time?

What dements me? People who leave tissues or bits of paper in the pockets of their trousers and put them in the washing machine with all my black clothes so I have to spend ages picking white blobs off.

Frogdancer said...

Ahh, collective consciousness...
Now there's a dementable thing!

(Reluctant Blogger, you need a front loader washing machine. The tissues just stay in the pocket, and they don't fluff the rest of the wash at all. I didn't know this when I bought mine, so it was an unexpected bonus.))

fifi said...

bmm, good.
I will make sure I tell you when.

Little red hen, ah, pears, now there's a lovely thing. Try quinces.and their branches.

RB; i hate that too, but like the frogdancer I have a front loader.
I think I need to be quicker off the mark... so I'm not the last one. But by the time this show is on, people may have forgotten...heh. Happens all the time.

Frogdancer. I always thought I was outside of the ciollective conscience. ha.

Luhlahh said...

My pennysworth:
I get the grr! factor, truly, but I also think that there is something very lovely about the collective unconscious. While it challenges our sense of individuality and originality, it is also a wonderful affirmation that we share this human existence. I believe very strongly in the power of archetypes and mythology, and the fact that you are one of several people exploring the same mythological landscape (seascape) is really exciting! We are all connected! Yay!

genevieve said...

Fifi, if I keep earning dollars, I would like to know when as well. I could do with a trip to Sinney.

fifi said...

luhlahh, yes, you are right, it is sort of nice to be tapping into something grand.

I have had it happen before: a sellout show just prior to me exhibiting something similar. To this day, years later, people still say, "oh that reminds me of blah blahs work." Although it is very complimentary, I do feel very unoriginal.

Genevieve, I will negotiate even harder so I can secure a date and then...its a party.

fifi said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Molly said...

Reminds me of growing up in the fifties/sixties. I hated that we were expected to wear those girdle thingeys---to hold our stockings up---who needed stockings? and to hold us in---who needed holding in? We were young and svelte! And rollers in the hair. If you didn't roll your hair every time you washed it, you were a pariah---like going out into the street naked. And shoes with high heels and pointy toes! Ugh! You weren't supposed to rebel ---these were part of growing up....Then along came the Beatles and San Francisco and flowers in your hair, and even though I was a mousy little girl living in chilly Ireland, I felt like I was part of something bigger [the collective consciousness I guess?] See, there were others, elsewhere, who abhorred those constrictions. Made me want to kick up my sockless heels in my unpointy sandals and run singing down the street sans makeup, hair as nature made it.....Ahhhh! Will us far-off ones see your exhibition here, on the blog?
Report from the student: I have several books out from the library over which I have pored. The search for lino blocks continues. I really do live in the middle of nowhere....lino blocks?? What be they? Scrunched noses, quizzical looks.... Like I have two heads. Guy in art supply store said I was the first person in his fifteen years in business to even ask, so, natch, he doesn't keep them close to hand. Sigh. Have to order. But---digging in my sewing room I unearthed a beautiful set of carving tools from a long ago interest in woodcarving. Excuses, excuses, but it IS going to happen!

meli said...

i don't think the one you've shown us is much like the book cover at all. but i do think it's lovely. and, as an academic mentor once told me: you don't own things, and you're never going to be the first or last person to write (or in your case, paint) about something. but no one else is you. no one else is you, doing this thing. and for this reason, it's unique.

travistee said...

I stood in the bookstore in the memoir aisle yesterday, frantically picking up every single book and reading the front cover thinking either, "This sounds like mine!" or "Since this is nothing like mine, who will want to read mine?"
I finally had to leave the story, and go home and write and write and write regardless of how similar or dissimilar my work is to other creations.
With so many billions of people on the earth....it is mighty difficult to be wholly original all the time, Fish.

riseoutofme said...

Stay true to the fish ... its probably inevitable that others in the stream are creating similar ripples .. but yours is unique to your fish ... discerning eyes will resonate.

Shimmer on regardless!

Regulus said...

Hey sweetie, what a nice entry and such a beautiful picture. Your pictures of the sea are always beautiful, and I wouldn't liken them to a romance novel cover image. But I read a little bit about Tim Winton -- I hadn't heard of him -- and he seems like a decent writer. Or am I missing something?

fifi said...

thank you for all your nice comments. I am over it.




(sorta)


Tim Winton is a good writer, Reg. In fact, really good, and this is a book supposed to be his best one.