Friday, July 31, 2009
JOB 3 -- After this opened Job his mouth, and cursed his day. And Job spake and said, Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said There is a man child conceived. Let that day be darkness; let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it. Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day. As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months. Lo, let that night be solitary, let no joyful voice come therein. Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise up their morning. Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it see the dawning of the day: Because it shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, nor hid sorrow from mine eyes. Why died I not from the womb? why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? Why did the knees prevent me? or why the breasts that I should suck? For now should I have lain still and been quiet, I should have slept: then had I been at rest, With kings and counsellors of the earth, which built desolate places for themselves: Or with princes that had gold, who tilled their houses with silver: Or as an hidden untimely birth I had not been, as infants which never saw light. There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master. Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul; Which long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures; Which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave? Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in? For my sighing cometh before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like the waters. For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me. I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet; yet trouble came. Denise...Denise Dances...2009.
RENASCENCE -- A man was starving in Capri, He moved his eyes and looked at me;/ I felt his gaze, I heard his moan, And knew his hunger as my own./ I saw at sea a great fog bank Between two ships that struck and sank;/ A thousand screams the heavens smote; And every scream tore through my throat./ No hurt I did not feel, no death That was not mine; mine each last breath/ That, crying, met an answering cry From the compassion that was I./ All suffering mine, and mine its rod; Mine, pity like the pity of God./Ah, awful weight! Infinity Pressed down upon the finite Me!/ My anguished spirit, like a bird, Beating against my lips I heard:/ Yet lay the weight so close about There was no room for it without,/ And so beneath the weight lay I And suffered death, but could not die. (Denise? DENISE!!!...* * *)
RAINDROPS...Raindrops...so many raindrops...so many, many raindrops...falling from the sky...falling from my eye...Be quiet, big boys don't cry. Big boys don't cry. Biiiig girls -- don't cry, ay, ay -- they don't cry! They don't cry! It's just -- an alibi! Raindrops, so many raindrops. Tears, healing tears. Cleansing. Baptism. Born again. Denise...Denise Dances...2009.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
OASIS...This is a farewell to the incarnation of OASIS as I've known it, this past month of July. A dynamic month! I did accomplish one thing, a painting from a photo of the beautiful grounds behind the Rose Farm Inn on Block Island, high on the hilltop. It took four sessions of about a half hour to one hour in duration, mornings from 8:00 or 9:00 to about 10:00. Does that count the unloading of my art supplies, including my portable Italian easel (gift from Mom) and messy, messy tubes of oils, brushes, stretched canvas, and paint thinner, from the trunk of my car and the loooong walk down the Nature Trail?? I chose to call the painting "Dream House." A strange thing happened during my last session. I made a "mistake" in painting a house amidst the barren landscape of rolling hills. I painted it larger than it should have been, as it appears distant in the photo. Finally, I decided to go with it. This spirit, "psyche" thing took on a mind of its own. I decided to let it be what it wanted to be; not to force my "logic" on it. (Not very good in that department anyway. Never was.) It appeared as a phantom house, floating above the meadows. (Well, Block Island is definitely haunted.) It wasn't exactly like the house in the photo, but more like a dream house that I would like to inhabit. And I realized...having a home of my own in the future is of utmost importance to me. A home that's really my own. (Goodbye, all of you old poopyheads!! Well, doesn't that sound better than "barracudas??") Take care. Denise...Denise Dances...2009.
RENASCENCE...I saw and heard, and knew at last/The How and Why of all things past, And present, and forevermore./ The Universe, cleft to the core, Lay open to my probing sense,/ That, sickening, I would fain pluck thence, But could not, - nay! but needs must suck/ At the great wound, and could not pluck My lips away til I had drawn/All venom out. -- Ah, fearful pawn: for my omniscience paid I toll/ In infinite remorse of soul, All sin was of my sinning, all/ Atoning mine, and mine the gall of all regret. Mine was the weight/ Of every brooded wrong, the hate That stood behind each envious thrust,/ Mine every greed, mine every lust. And all the while, for every grief,/ Each suffering, I craved relief With individual desire;/ Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire About a thousand people crawl;/ Perished with each, -- then mourned for all! (Denise! DENISE! You can come OUT now! We got 'em.)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Check out http://sites.google.com/site/makingartaffordabletothepublic/ Work best under deadline pressure?? It's a plug...for my future venue...Take care. Denise...Denise Dances...2009.P.S. Also, look for a future website for "Fool's Gold," my novel of my life in NYC (1987-90); which I hope to publish soon and sell as a screenplay, "some day." P.S. Hey, Lynne! Please email me! Wanna hear about your trip! Let's get together for the beeeaaaach!!
I've been wacked out since July 15. The two year anniversary of my best friend Paula's memorial service. Whimsy of creative ideas by mini golf course...low blood sugar...extreme shyness...Then almost getting clocked by a car, intersection of Howard and Bank last Tuesday afternoon. Going out in a driving rainstorm last Thursday evening -- to the Book Barn -- in Niantic. On Cruise Night at Ocean Beach, Monday, July 20th -- extreme heat. Crowds. Mom preoccupied with Dad in a nursing home. Nosy neighbors, "backstabbing barracudas." Hungry vultures encircling me. Where I live. Old friend at Ocean Beach has new motives. (I don't like what I see.) Invading my space. Encircling me. World closes in. Buried alive. RENASCENCE. ("Where am I goin' to live when I get home?" -- Billy Rae Cyrus) Had to sit down. Headrush. Mom came. Saturday, July 25. FISH TALES, TUGS & SAILS. Created in me a feeling of chaos. For children only. Teaching wasn't for me. Maybe a future in illustrating children's books would be. Maybe not. Health woes. Pressure. Back to school. Search for work, fruitless. Running away...succession of creative ideas...mini golf course...Walk around it twice before leaving the beach today...("Man, I Feel Like a Woman!" -- Shania Twain)...Landmarks you want to paint...the windmill...lighthouse...Seagull soaring...Fisher's Island Sound. Had to sit down. Take it all in. Low blood sugar? Extreme shyness? (No. Why don't you admit what you're really feeling, Denise? What day is it today? You lost your best friend!) On Monday, July 27, after a difficult morning of trying to complete my first oil on canvas at OASIS, "Dream House," I decided to "hang it up," move OASIS indoors for the coming winter. I thanked it for helping me to launch my new venture, MAAP. Also for being "our office." And to allow it to return to being the Observation Deck at the end of the Nature Walk. Too many distractions. Rising heat. Early morning jogger. Bugs. Trucking all my stuff down the Nature Trail. Lugging all of my stuff across the beach parking lot, down the boardwalk. FINALLY, yesterday I was able to lie in the sun. Truly relax. Air was pure. Sun pristine. Really relaxed for the first time in a long time, can't remember when. The calm was shattered when a couple of women and their small children sat on the benches behind me. Everyday chatter. Baby in a playpen. (The life I'd missed out on.) Suddenly, I felt left out. Very alone. Had to get out. Go and join the living. Benches in the center of the boardwalk. Over by the carousel where the music is playing. Starting to cry on this beautiful day -- why? I bolted to the bathroom. Shut myself in a stall. "Oh, Paula! I miss you!" I sobbed and sobbed. Secure in knowing no one was standing outside my door. (Muffled sounds of children.)...Denise...Denise Dances...2009.