6/2009 India Ink, Bee’s wax and pigment on clayboard panels

24”X36” (24X18” each panel)

 

I remember the shoes

I remember how she spoke to me then

The vast glass walls

The dirt floors

The surreal ash,

Wheels and sprockets,

clock parts,

pages scattered on the Tuesday streets

 

 

I remember the teddy bear

With the stuffing on the outside

The button eyes lost in the sheets

The pee stains smell

And the breasts not offered

In the age of Rational Mind

 

Children drew pictures

Of twin candles burning

As if it were our second birthday

A second age

A second coming

An age of timelessness

 

And the Balinese

Walked into the guns of white men,

We walk into the fire

Of shadow

Of clarity in the deep pool

Of Magical Mind

 

I think of the shattered glass,

A looking glass

Beauty created by accident

Some careless accomplice,

Creates with the artist.

 

And they hid from God

Because they where ashamed

Of their nakedness

And we will strip her bare

Because we are not ashamed anymore

 

Deep in a sealed wooden boat

The woman who abandoned the white BWM

In the garage below

Sails into the

Worlds beyond

The knowledge of light and dark

White doves descend

Into her deep pool of longing

 

 

And in this,

The last world

a woman

Gives birth

This morning I was chatting with a healer/artist friend from Washington state about the ills of our global monetary economy. Well yeah, but it was a sick system before the crash too cuz it undervalues the core economy. I mean what gives with the fact that I get paid 5 times more for sitting in an office managing others to manage software programs, (meanwhile spending my time writing poetry, making connections and thinking about the painting I'll work on tonight), then my disabled son's aide makes!
Whew, I'm out of breath! Lol!
Well I happen to think the work I'm doing is important, cuz the other stuff I'm not paid to do is feeding into the core economy. Hey that's what art and poetry and making connections is about in my mind anyway. (Yes it's way right side but making a momentary excursion to the left, to the left)
 It's intended for healing, it's intended to connect us into what really matters and collecting green stuff ain't it! 
I mean DUH!
Right now a part of the art world is plugged into the monetary economy but I believe a larger part is not. All you have to do is spend 5 minutes on the internet and find all kinds of "free" art, music, writing. My vision is that art is a gateway between the monetary and core economy.

So what would happen if everyone pulled their content down from the internet for a single day?

What would happen to our world if the payment for art had to be made as time into the core economy?
"IBM you want my poem/ K let me get out my calculator (my 10 fingers).
That'll be 5 hours into the time bank TY!"

So I'll be the first convert and sell my artwork for time into the core economy.

Here's some more info.

Timebanks


A word to my fellow artists. Being paid money for art is not validating in fact it's a invalidation because art has no price. If it did have a price, the price would be your life. Besides the Art was never yours anyway, only the work was and that is time.

Blessings

Doug

Have you ever stood outside

At night in the mist

Looked up at the darkened sky

Felt the cool air on your face

And your lips silently form the words

I love you

 

And you want those words

To reverberate through all

The dark matter

To vibrate in the energy fields

The brown grass

Where you lay down

To imagine clouds drifting through the blue

 

You want those words to travel

On those imagined clouds

And if you should be in the mist of them

You’ll feel those words

And the magic is

I feel them too