Days 4 & 5

So, I didn't at all mean for this to happen- but it is apparently getting to be a habit to only debrief once every two days.  Which is really unfortunate because a lot seems to be happening each day, and it would be better to get it all out while things are still fresh.  But I'll try to recover... and to find a few extra minutes to write between classes or before I pass out every night!

So- Day 4: Thursday.  Like Tuesday, I only have one class, which is fabulous because it provides this open-ended day to get done whatever needs to get done.  I went in pretty early so I could get to work on the 'artifact'- for lack of a better word- that Reich wanted to see for Friday.  I actually started it the night before, because my plan was to produce a poem and some watercolor abstract illustrations to go with it.  I love to write (clearly), but especially poetry.  I've been doing it since I was little.  And I thought that after the rather concise and rational abstract that I had produced for Wednesday (which, unfortunately, never got examined), I would dabble in a different realm entirely.  Because my project is meant to be two-sided.  Very rational, empirical, and based on in-depth research and documentation.  At the same time, it is about morality, spirituality, emotions, mental healing, and the poetry of life.  So, it was time to try to express myself with the other half of my brain.

The poem is written in 4 stanzas, no rhyming scheme, and no strong structure, although an observant reader will see a very minor scaffolding.  I wanted it to be both metaphorical and literal- describing emotional states, thoughts, images, as well as physical places.  Take a look:
 

The Phoenix Rises

There was a fire-

Somewhere beyond the imagination's

forever wind.

Beyond Dreams and nightmares,

Night and day.

-The hot burning embers

that they dare not say.

There was a fire

That he faced, stood before-

Naked

and Alone.

And no one heard his screams.

There is a moment-

That breath between

Life and Death.

like a shadow of a memory,

When everything ends

and something past it begins;

When you see the face again,

there is a moment

Of questions and fear

And memories, that

He can't deny and cannot accept.

But there is a cool breeze

Somewhere in the deep woods

Where all is forgotten,

Or at least, seen with new Eyes.

Raw and exposed- to himself-

but gentle, for the tree-music sighs,

Sings endlessly from the high-above

as the cool mountain breeze

Cleanses the face

And opens the heart

To the places he has been, again.

There is a fire-

A log on the life-hearth.

That phoenix that parts and

Reappears to show us again

that we are Resilient.

Long silent moments of calm

As flickering light-shows play on the wall.

Meditative existence- the

Clean quiet of long ago,

Recaptured in the stillness

Of the singing

Of the deep woods.

Yup.  I wrote another poem, not for studio consumption, just as a free-flow of ideas.  I find that through poetry, especially in my least-structured formats, I find out things that I am thinking and feeling that I was previously unaware of.  I thought I'd give it a shot and take a look at my inner-most emotions related to the topic at hand.  Below:

They

I wondered- once-

What it was, to be a soldier.

To see another life

Drop out of eyes, with

Your own eyes.

To not ask the questions

I cannot get out of my mind.

To hold a gun.

To fire.

To sit alone, at night, and wonder

Was I right?

I have met them- some-

Although I never asked them

How would I?

Only guessed it from their eyes.

Some tired, many worn.

But bright, and still so much

Alive.

I do not know them

And I judge them.

How can I?

They faced demons I never will.

And survived.

I do not know them,

Nor perceive I do.

But I often wonder

What their pain is,

Where they hide it,

What nagging question

Still baffles them at night.

Do they own it?

Do they hate it?

What do they live with?

I can't say it's my favorite poem.  But it addresses some of the issues I think I have to try to face, which I'm guessing might be an up-hill battle at times.  But I'll try.  We'll see what I can get.

As for the watercolors, I attempted 4, two were images, two were textures.  In the end, I wasn't really happy with the textures, so they were scrapped for the presentation.  But, of course, I did the paintings in my watercolor sketchbook, which contains all of my watercolors from Denmark.  And, because the paper can handle it, I double-side my paintings.  So, it was necessary to scan the images to my computer and then re-print them separately to  preserve the older paintings.  To be honest, I edited the images slightly with Photoshop, trying to crisp colors and and so forth.  But I will admit (or rationalize, you have to decide for yourself) that the final, re-printed images looked very similar to the originals. Okay, maybe a little different.  But that's my prerogative, right?

I then found an old piece of off-white board, and lettered the entire poem on a sheet of it.  It took forever.  Like, perhaps an hour.  Which for lettering, feels like an eternity.  My hand hurt so badly at the end.

Day 5, then, was presentation time.  I did come in early (again) but that was more as a result of me wanting to get other things done.  Specifically, research.  I am slowly amassing a small library of references.  But more on that some other time.

Anyway, we met at 1, which is customary, but actually didn't start class until around 2:30 because of basic chores for studio that needed to be accomplished.  Primarily, Reich wanted to get our group meeting table assembled for a mix of old metal desk frames, scrape wood from the shop, and store-bought MDF.  It took a few power tools and a little time to do.

After, we all sat around the brand-new table and looked over each others artifacts.  There were more traditional abstracts, with diagrams, images, and text, some VERY compelling images of various things, a few objects, and a few more abstract things, such as mine.  A nice array, which led to plenty more 'this applies to everyone' discussions.  One really important thing he told us was that the best abstract show entries typically have three dimensions- text, image, object.  So, we need to make sure we can work in all three dimensions.  And, when he talked about my little artifact, he talked about the need to strike a balance in the abstract between the raw, emotional power of something like a poem or a watercolor painting, and the rational, clear expression of a diagram, or a block of text.  Absolutely.  It's just how to bring them together.

I would like to happily note, for my own sake at least, the he commented on my watercolors.  He said that they were beautiful, and that he like my technique. I guess Ceci back in Copenhagen taught me well!I know it's dumb to get excited about something like that, but a boost in personal pride is quite the necessity sometimes.  Especially at the end of a rather arduous week.  More tomorrow- if I get out of bed to type it!