Thursday, November 20, 2014
Unless it is too philosophical to be of interest these stressed and broken attempts to fall and stand at the same time see pots as people and to which do we like most, the cheerful ones who go against all odds and heroically oppose, or those who bow the head, the knee, and excite sympathy? Indeed many did fall, imploded, collapsed in the stretching intended to enhance their lines. Why were they pushed to such extremes?
Some can't raise their hands because they don't have arms. These are many. Or sometimes they just have stumps for arms in these days. Of those who raise hands not all get them all the way up either, from the weight or maybe they are prevented. There are all kinds of postures in hands raised, just like there are all kinds of reasons for raising them. Surrender is always implied, and praise. Also sacrifice. Those without hands are the most poignant if we imagine them. We can see the heads and the bodies, as if the arms and hands were wrapped inside a serape maybe. Hands raised, heads raised, bodies raised. If we are armed militarized security forces it gets ambiguous, as they are concealing something under their cloaks. Beating hearts. Some of these may be considered Protest Jars, others Quechua ladies silently witnessing.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Friday, February 21, 2014
Which do you prefer, 20th century prewar Germany or 21st century prewar America? Spender says, Watch the hawk with an indifferent eye, that almost won War on the sun until the hands, wings, are found (Poems, 1933, 11). As if it were the best of all possible worlds with the Trojan Horse outside the gate, Leviathan come to land, we find the eyes and hands, and the tongue.
Electrosmog lights up in smoke, out of order, out of time, more a poem moved by dilemmas for their own sake and because it's no easy kinship with the desolate sweep. I get out Spender’s Poems of 1933 as an oracle. It is inscribed "For Horst Keller as a souvenir of Oxford London Berlin from Stephen Spender / March 11, 1933." Spender later reveals in his Journal "I met [Horst] on the Hook of Holland boat once, shortly before Hitler’s rise to power," twelve days after the Reichstag fire (27 Feb 1933).
Hitler's "rise" ended in March 1933 after the Reichstag adopted the Enabling Act of 1933. President Paul von Hindenburg appointed Hitler Chancellor on 30 January 1933 after elections and intrigues. Then Hitler used The Enabling Act to constitutionally exercise dictatorial power without legal objection.
Spender says, "Horst was the son of a general. And now at least four names crowd on to me I remember. Many are aristocrats and often close to the higher ranks of the army. This boy was called Horst. He had a round face with very well-formed features, delicate lips, light blue eye, and brown hair of an almost feathery lightness. He was very quiet and polite and he had some small, out-of-the-way interest – playing the flute or making musical instruments or something. There’s really nothing much more to it than that. He had a scholarship at Oxford and I used to call on him there; we went for walks and I introduced him to Isaiah Berlin. But he never in the least became part of the life at Oxford...one of those unhappy, pained, gentle creatures who represent the heart of another Germany, and do not understand what is happening to them. I have touched a deeper chord than I knew here, for Have I not met two or three? Didn't I know very well the peculiar whiteness and stillness of their eyes which seem to have been drained of pigment? These poor ghosts are really beautiful in a sexless way, because, if one is a young man of another country, an exile in one's own, one cannot expect to be virile. How closely I press upon a secret! Way am I always attracted by these desolate spirits? There was one I met on the Hook of Holland boat once...(Journal. 1985, 30).
Keller is dismissed as "always just as gentle, just as isolated [with] a restlessness that never ceased..." but the poor ghosts, as he puts it, for the oracle stand for American hearts, "peculiar whiteness, drained of pigment:" "Most of these poets and writers...delivered their sad advice on the literary life which I was now just about to enter, like ghosts in purgatory, conscious of the relative failure of their illusions" (World On Worlds, 89). As if appointing a board of directors Auden had assigned Spender to be the poet at Oxford as Isherwood got to be the novelist, but they were grasping at illusion not compulsion. Escape from the Weimar sensorium fell to Dylan Thomas, who was drunk all the time, or Faulkner, or Edith Sitwell in some depth psychology of esoteric Jung. The lords of lit dismiss its past and its victims as Americans dismiss the present, as Spender does "the sustained gentle sense of unhappiness" (31).
So much signifying Horst Keller naked. On one hand dismissed for lack of philosophic depth, like all poets and critics scourge one another, and on the other hand the counterpart of the bullying Spender himself received, "My parents kept me from children who were rough…their knees tight on my arms. / I feared the salt coarse pointing of those boys" (Poems XII). So Pound dared to call Yeats The Tower putrid as Hemingway called Spender squeamish, and why not, for he was as cloistered. Spender and Keller prophesy how we live in our Weimar before the fall, "coracles with faces painted on" (Spender, Poems, III). Even if the Reich-stag burns in the Twin Towers morphed to a propaganda tool, these are just mirages of the digital, like a new species of digitalis that poisoned Van Gogh's brain when he was given it for seizures. His brain saw a color shift which produced the yellow period, haloes around lights. Xanthopsia fools like propaganda. Our seizures, after creation of the group mind, when the news is offered by Yahoo headlines, have no word for who will destroy the world. This is Weimar's Childhood’s End, catalyzed by the beast that comes from its ship in 50 years!
England is America without the water to cross. England echoes America and America China, India, Ukraine, Egypt, Japan. The Globe is the world! Absolutely guarded in our superiority of being, "three stand naked: the new, bronzed German, / the communist clerk, and myself, being English" (Poems, XIV in 1929), the splendid coracle says. All for one and one for all. HBO in simple haunting speech. "I’m haunted by these images, / I’m haunted by their emptiness," Spender says (Poems, XVI). Who in Weimar America lives in the shadow of war? None, just like Weimar! QED! Spender goes a decade before, but sees "The prisoners / Turned massive with their vaults and dark with dark" (Poems, XX). The oracle "throws up strange shapes, broad curves / And parallels clean like the steel of guns" (Poems, XXVI). Everybody feels empowered by the need to no more remember maps, addresses, time. Electronic designs are "More beautiful and soft than any moth / With burring furred antennae feeling its huge path" (Poems, XXVII). So it’s not just England naked and the world where "all things are naked and opened unto the eyes" as Saint Stephen would have said. He could have written a book like Psalms, "I am poured out like water and all my bones are out of joint…I may count all my bones." (Psalm 22.14). But the Weimar does not believe the porcelain words of "Slanting iron hair pattern no stigmata" (Poems, XXXI). "That program of the antique Satan / Bristling with guns on the indented page" (Poems, XXXIII). The machine of war in the war of three worlds, apocalypse of heaven, earth and hell. Choose at least one. That’s what you get when their knees are tight on your arms and they hold you down, for while Chomsky thinks its Hitler from the right, the forces keep marching, left, right, left, right. It's not Hitler coming, or Weimar just back from the Danube with Marlene Dietrich singing, hyperinflation or Balkanization. It's four angels loosed from the Euphrates.
Poems. Stephen Spender (Faber, 1933).
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
15 x 14 x 10 High Fire Ceramic $900
There is no revelation of the world. Revelation is what sins want to defeat. Gurus of the unconscious say everywhere revelation is myth. That is their means of fooling. The revelation of the world is called wisdom, the way of yourself or the god plant, based on the cover. Here you look within and see what do the patrons of the theater at intermission do in this two month run. Should they fall to the ground weeping as their pass, discover truth vessels, as we have been told, it is not their fault. Blue interiors are much desired. These might not be gone, but so cheap at the price. If only their betters would tell them hat to do. Brown and green remnants kneaded into porcelain with blue green mason stains, composite light/dark clays impastoed with chrome oxide, titanium, cobalt, rutile, some burnt umber, Death Valley red added to strengthen the lip at the end before formation. Glaze with blue green mat + lily pad + drift of clear inside, blue green mat + green poison patina + clear outside.
|Praise Him, Praise Him, |
All You Little Children II
15 x 10 x 6 High Fire Ceramic $800
* Boomquats. Don't know where else to put this right now, so make it small. The death of the Uncon doesn't include the loss of breath and autonomic nervous systems. It does include the loss of falsity, deception, fear, powers of dominion. Not a utopia, it is called the Kingdom of God. Whether that's what it is or whether that's another ruse planted and interpreted by the Boomquats needs discerning. Boomquats are a name for Jung's Freud forces. Those forces are no more endemic to the human than sin. As sin is done, death dies, which you think a utopian dream, but it is not, assuredly not. The roar. the roar.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
In the catacombs Don Reitz is rumored to mix his clays from a WSO base, with a pinch of the secret (oxide). Others are trucking raw from the East as Reitz draws From The Heart.
Implicit reduction of oxygen or oxidation forced with ash and smoke from chemicals saturated in the clay makes them blush? Sure iron and copper but clay compositions set up blushes, with maybe the wood, whether pecan, walnut, pine. Some place they fire with cinnamon, persimmon, madrone. Lee Ufan (Japan), Claudi Casanovas (Spain) and Donald Judd (W Tex (Marfa!)), range to and fro over takes of this natural, in this case cuts of stone hills and scrub growth, sun and sky.
But the intellectual view is polluted. How can the intellect pollute the natural, and its art when it thinks it is mining the heart? Because all mining produces contamination of surface and subsurface, slag heaps, gob piles, subsidence, runoff increase. Chemicals concentrate in water the Reitz Ranch is well situated to recall, chemicals concentrated in the Verde River run right by the Reitz Ranch. Consider the Verde river polluted with mine tailings and arsenic runoff just down from here where Cottonwoods fish the river. Maybe they don't drink the water, but abandoned smelter stacks and slag piles wash down leftover mines also in Globe, Bisbee, Jerome and a hundred others. These are like the intellectual pollution of the natural in the human. Like it or not, seeking depth, these mines are the depth of art mirroring life that cannot take the pristine uprights of Reitz' sculptural recall, with their crosses and grave artifacts, other than as if they were the River Shannon graveyards of Clonmacnoise. The last thing I remember is Jonathan Cross saying something like, "the fire of the volcano," who insisted that deliberation of ceramic takes of the world were intellectual, after a taking of the natural. The argument was that had they the colors we have they'd certainly used them. So the sea would not remain the wine-dark of Homer. But what is art if not pollution, considering our surroundings, the hills barren, the river poisoned, the sky filled with chemtrails all the sun filled day? Intellect to intellect? I didn't say this. I am listening as if knowing is finding the spirit of knowing and not knowing simultaneously, as in a human mind.The red, black and white clay colors of ancient statuary are like the three classical colors, the only colors, inferred from Arabic.
Laminating Opposites. Mercury
Intellect to intellect, I am listening for the spirit of knowing and not knowing as a human mind, if passage tombs are like wood kilns. Pollution is a good we can all talk about while laminating opposites with the volcano, chalk hill, passage tomb, wood kiln infiltrating cone 5 clay into cone tens with bark and organics, rocks, volcanic ash, erosion deposition, reburying feldspar, shigaraki layering, cracking, stressing with cedar berries, pine needles, sycamore bark, buckeye pods, chicken bones, fish streams of shino in the underclay where spines are buried, pebbles, manure, vermiculite! beetles! road kill!, chollas, spines, pads, all buried. They hope to come out a split scarab stretching geologics. Mercury-like thrust faults and global contraction of the planet, we should say, with lobate scarps from interior cooling. Mercury, as Casanova's pieces, has a larger core than the other inner planets. Cumulative compressional strain recorded in the lobate scarps suggests a decrease in Mercury's radius, which the kiln can easily top, at least 10%. So the mere reduction gas kiln is made to perform like the anagama. Core contractions produced the lobate scarps/scalps]s or cliffs of implosion, displacement thrust faults, compressional stresses, thermal contraction, lineated terrain. Preexisting crater rims disrupted into crude polygonal hills and fractures, mantled blanketed by impact ejecta. Miners, dwarves, nibelungs explode the iron oxide earth clay coat, rutile wash, cobalt hole.
All these global aspects of Mercury lead to a loss of surface that secreting, planting of contradiction into the clay body makes. Slumping, cutting earthquakes seek the volcano in the kiln. The pollution in saying so calls the fire out of the medieval Cloud of Unknowing with the fire of the spirit. Fathom that after the volcano, like the shell of a man shrunk, heart sack creased like a pot expelled from itself, when you don't have naught to say. Thought burns up. Intellect ceases tasks. You stand struck, parietal lobes rewired.This destruct is art? Apocalypse.is art. All these firings are apocalypses. Before I left for Clarksdale I read that when the sixth angel sounds it will loose the angels bound in the Euphrates.
Fire is romanticized. Think the sculptors and the piscine shapes of women know that we go in this fire? Been touched? Once burned? Twice? Why were they in the Euphrates (not the Gihon, Tigris, or Nile)? Why had they been bound, now loosed?! But you know why. The 200 million horses breathe fire, smoke and brimstone. They are kilns! Some critic would say that is wrenching scripture as does Kafka's analogy of the Wall of China for the Tower of Babel. China to Babel, horses to kilns, all the prophets, Enoch, Noah, David, Isaiah, Jonah, Jesus, John are traditional and iconoclastic. Just consider Jesus making the whip. Kafka enforces scripture with the best Biblicals. Believe that or read the Great Wall of China and the kiln opening like my nephew asking what the opening of the seventh seal means. I told him that I hate to spoil the ending. I subscribe parageography to geology with the voyages of Odysseus, Virgil, St. Brenden. As Beowulf stands beside the burning mere Of plumb immensity before he’ll go Into the vast abysm without fear, And wonders if that watery bed’s his bier Before he draws a breath of earth’s sweet air, And dives into the darkness of the mere:
You say there's a difference between water and earth, air and fire, male and female? More pollution of intellect?
These ideas, called minimalist, and abstract expressionist, arising in conversation,sound like Legends of the Unconscious, not yet written exactly but which have many sources, much to do with vacancy and presence, vacancy of the design and designer, presence of the flows of the natural. Making and repeating the same patterns required to identify the recognizable work of the brand is the exact betrayal of vacancy. Dropping a stone on glass as Lee Ufan, making by erosion, breakage, eruption, is vacancy. If firings are apocalypses what are "reconciliations of the good?" No results found. Was advised, the pine will die in the fire! Lee Ufan, in Mono-ha, the School of Things, says unknowing materials reveal knowledge. Against thought and forethought, if a stone hits glass and the breakage conforms to the intention of the artist, the result is mere thought. Only the tension of artist, glass and stone, the freedom of each to act and crack unknowingly makes art, revealing qualities inherent in, but not visible as object. Crack the stone, conceal the stone, railroad ties reveal connotations of forced labor in Japanese colonies in World War II, Ireland's famine stone, walls around the Burren are famine walls denoting starvation and slavery. Starkly burning wood makes charcoal. So here we study with creosote and yarrow, mugwort and water. Take it further in the tortoise mirror, but all these ideas live in Chuang Tzu. This entire site Extremes of Biological Extinction, preoccupies such beings.
Don't you love art talk? Don Reitz is famous for it. Claudi Casanovas, in Twenty Blocks, says "each piece is a silence. If I were a poet, I would inscribe words there." Here Casanovas too, but such impossibility! The silence is complete. Only Casanovas' stressing of materials is exciting, The problem all these boys have is why should I buy their pieces when I can go to Winslow and get a piece of petrified wood as big or bigger than I can lift, already stressed? The stressing of materials echoes Mono-ha. The impression these give on the GalerieBesson site is of a depersonalization attractive because the viewer doesn't have to figure out the message, recognize the face, interpret the image. It's a rock its own self collecting, but there were no human figures in the kiln. Donald Judd collaborated with his father, but had extreme distaste for galleries and art biz. Artist as "designer," not "maker" should not obscure that design. Whether preceding the made, made in the making, or found after, this is a mere time constraint, for there should be time no longer, to further the Biblical. If then, then now. Time is a convenient for those who talk. If no time, then no human maker either, not to deny the work, merely to say nothing, certainly not thank you for saying it is good. What's your problem anyway? He died rich. He was so rich he started a foundation in Marfa. That's where Robert Creeley got sick, but died in Odessa.
Afterward I got out a pit fired Papago pot from the old trader Kermit Lee when he liquidated. You can see the burn marks and its softness: “Eight miles from the Pisinemo Road is the Quijotoa Trading Post. Quijotoa is a Spanish corruption of KiaHoaToak, Papago for “carrying basket mountain.” The Quijotoa Mountains were mined in 1774 and again with more importance in the 1880s. At the trading post, Mr. and Mrs. Kermit Lee have a wonderful selection of Papago baskets and pottery. Baskets range from thumb-nail miniatures made of horsehair to waste basket size of yucca, beargrass, and martynia…Almost directly across from the Trading Post is a road north to Santa Rosa Village. Just west of it is Ventana Cave; and here lies some of the most ancient history in North America.” Desert Magazine,
2014 and after --"Firing in wood burning kilns gave him new surfaces to explore along with new clay bodies that he discovered while in Japan, clay from Shigaraki. Sandy clay from the bed of Lake Biwa has a warm orange color which characterizes Shigaraki ware [?] of irregular contours and archaic flavor. Firing technique shifted from reduction to oxidation firing, which allows free admission of air during the firing rather than limited air admission into the kiln. This allows iron oxides to be used as part of the coloring process. The allowance of free air is due to the type of ancient kiln, called an anagama kiln, which is used to fire Shigaraki ware...achieves the mineral glaze surface. Depending on the placement of the piece, the resulting coat of ash and minerals will vary with a greyish to a reddish-brown colorizing, small impurities protrude, caused by embedded quartz [feldspar?] partially fired. Covered with a thin layer of overrun yellowish-brown to a peach blossom red color glaze that crackles when fired is also characteristic."
Voulkos "Invented each time as if for the first time then reinvented as part of the history of invention."...geology of art, archeology, layer by layer...primeval geology, gap, crack, smash, sludge, break...beauty of the crack, the burned crack, the torn edge, plasticity, viscosity, drying, slashed, embedded, incised, scratched, scored, incised wax resist stacks, plates, STACKS! contours, recesses, fit for caves, spelunkers, "destroy itself at the same time it creates," ...original wary attitude toward applied glaze solidified to total avoidance...cylinder, dome, sphere, disk, plate, slab. Leather hard wheel forms joined in various combinations in stacks or ice buckets (?) muscular, irreverent, anti-academic [primitef] (From the introduction of Clay's Tectonic Shift: John Mason ceramic walls]. Mason began to make massive rough-hewn walls... huge cross forms and solid, geometric shape...imprinting the finished form with the gestural force of its making-ceramic walls]. Walls, vertical totems, crosses, reaching for the primitive.
We are going to have to forgive Voulkos for being an influence on so many ceramic artists. That's their fault. Also forgive the force of his personality, here's a good pic. The solitude, rejection, anger, energy, dislocation: “The minute you begin to understand what you’re doing it loses that searching quality. Your emotions take over and what happens just happens. Usually you don’t know it’s happened until after it’s done.http://franklloydgallery.wordpress.com/2009/07/09/peter-voulkos-on-improvisation/Of the influence of Franz Kline:
Of the influence of Franz Kline: "Bridges, tunnels, buildings, engines, railroads, and other architectural and industrial icons are imagery informing Kline's work; lines, planes, facets, coal, "Kline’s memories of his native Pennsylvania’s coal-mining region, with its stark scenery, locomotives and similar massive mechanical shapes to which the titles of his later abstract images sometimes referred." Reading that Franz Kline's black and white paintings with tunnels and roads stems from his childhood in Wilkes Barre and the coal mines makes me wonder at the influence of that house along the railroad where we lived from 5-16. Especially the early years, starting 1947 the trains smoke was not scrubbed. What was later white was black as soot, especially where the freights had to go up a gentle rise we live in the middle of. There were two tracks, only freight trains, that went to and way from the Pennsylvania Railroad train yard a few miles down. This was a big operation hillsides undermined by coal extraction prevented development.When I look at these rectilineal constructs, crosses etc I see grave stone ceremonials. Much of Voulkos, Callas, Reitz is suited to memorials. De Kooning also enters these associations, who I have long loved, block and slices. I love everything he says about art non art.
Their glazes were basically feldspar with a little ash.
The secret of carbon-trapping is in one ingredient: soda ash. My particular glaze has
about 18% soda ash. Many shinos have no soda ash at all and are glazes used by potters
who do not want carbon-trapping and are searching for a more traditional Japanese sur-
face. I love those pots, but I am obsessed with carbon and soot.
reduction pulls the oxy out of the glaze that was grown in, sulfide to sufate
Note on celadon: a little tin oxide and/or barium carbonate will help with the blue color.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Saturday, August 17, 2013
A series of pots excavated from ancient Roman digs, probably from Pompeii, either that or they were broken and put back together by shard hunters, although the view is appealing that they had just been thrown before the holocaust, but saved by that atmospheric bisque in the moment of volcanic eruption, 800 degrees in some places, low fire, which accounts for the stress. They have been delayed in arrival from customs boondoggles. Please understand all these statements are symbolic. They are still waiting to be fired @ cone 10, and they are made to look as if they had undergone those stresses. I suppose the striations and cracks from stretching the clay also occur from the suddenness of heat without kindling, though they must have been sitting there to dry some days after being taken off the wheel.
Afterward the heavy ash would have sifted from the cracks leaving them as you will see here. Further studies post Pompeii are likely to record additional resources. In one we can just see traces of an outline of Italy in the remains.
Egypt. Another series of these fire disasters occurred at Fall of the Egyptian Zodiac, part natural, part political which could be linked to politics, lining up modern Cairo with Naples, which presents constellations in the promise of a horn blown against the serpent [tyrant] Ouroboros , fulfilled in the upraised arms of the Warrior Deliverer, but the top blew off. Put to biscuit kindle an hour, the controls were left on high from the previous fire. The floor manager did not return for an hour. Turning on the fan to clear the smell (and smoke), which made more thermal shock, in another hour there was a crack. Zodiac exploded all over the kiln. That was the end of democracy. You may say of the elders of Egypt, even if their faces get singed, that if the top is exploded the bottom may go. That of course leaves us worse off than when we started. That the walls are still standing is something that the vessel will not hold. The complete story is here at Foresight and Fall of the Egyptian Zodiac.
These politics would need a greater series of earthquakes with great splits and cracks in faces and cliffs of pots, but the daring needs to be great because the whole construct is at risk, especially from inch thick impasto slices of porcelain speed dried over other base laminated clays which accelerate the cracks.
Syria These matters affect Syria among the Arab states. Did not CIA boast in recent bulletins that it overthrew the Iran democracy in 1953 to put in the Shah? Obama wants what exactly Bush, Johnson, et. al. did. Wait for the news.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Warning for any inquirers, the bottom of the inside is inscribed with words written in every rapture, The Lord Is My Shepherd. Sorry about that. This was done on Aeyrie's birthday. It is in the round, figures ascending in different stages and is like Opening the Fifth Seal which shows the figures as a canvas. It takes a while to understand these things, but I seem to have made countless images of people flying up, at least since I wrote on a student's paper way long ago, what do they do at the tops of mountains, children lifting pretty heads from pillow beds? So not only here, but by interpretation of El Greco's Opening the Fifth seal and in the end in Danby's Sixth Seal, in the process of being hung.
"It was all wrapped in these children being born and flying around, "what do they do at the tops of mountains, children lifting pretty heads from pillowed beds?...Raleigh says You rose into the mountain air and nevermore were seen. I don't know if it answers what children lifting pretty heads from pillowed beds were doing at the tops of mountains, but right up until Once upon a time when it was dead and gone, when one was enough and too much to be alive and well in Ameryca, the new found land, a glory rose up into the head... Raleigh, the marigold in the sun's eye, seems to write about it in his address to Queen Elizabeth in his poems of 1596 where his "first-born love...Restless desire from my love that proceeded / leave to be and seek heaven by dying, since you, oh you, your own hope have exceeded by too high flying."...
sublime writer carries this along from Psalm 40. Lo I come...I delight to do Thy will, O my Elohim: yea, the law is written in my heart, no certainty, and he knows nothing of the future, only the moment and past revised amid all failures and regret. Prophetic and at the same time impossible, nobody picking Calendar up forty years later would see anything symbolic in "A Conjunction of Planets," What lovers' open lips we are tonight in time the endless world, our minds unfurled. Symbol is defeated by propaganda, but propaganda cannot eradicate symbol, only neutralize it by saying it cannot be understood. These texts were to prepare the y to overcome the i, a reversal to which we all now have our attention drawn. I think Goya or El Greco said that. Souls in the egg, so all right world, Hatch and hatch.
Monday, June 3, 2013
|2) 22 May Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil|
|1) 8 May 21x13x10|
|22 May 16x10x8|
Grotesque of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
This style has its hazards. It wanted to shape fluting with stretched porcelain, a figure stretching around the vase from some notion that it would pick up the pot and walk off, the green contrast against orange shino representing the tree's leaves so to speak. But myriad cracks of the stretched clay produced dark where the glaze broke, not veins of leaves. The entwined figure likewise turned dark, glaze separating into scales which looked more like the figure was strangling the tree. It takes some time to be able to see what is actually there as opposed to what one thought should be there.
What this says about the value of education is left to the viewer. What it says of iconography in the corrosion of the dark clay of the figure, borders of red around the "leaves," orange, = maroon cracking, speckling, spalling, allegorize the knowledge that can cut the fins off every shark to enhance health. Evil is always explained, analyzed, rationalized with pains taken at Scribd sites, HistoPossum, Opiomes, Building Transhuman Immortals, and etc. We seem to want epic what is banal. The white shino interior of this vase belies the ill prognosis where it has collected on the inward curves of the slopes like snow.
Saturday, March 30, 2013