“Words are for meaning: when you’ve got the meaning, you can forget the words”
~ Zhuangzi~
But, Zhuangzi, certain words are meant for remembrance. They rest upon my soul, hover over my spirit, and enter into the chrysalis part of my heart.
There, where black ink transforms into white butterflies I become an Athena. I wear words like an ancient and ageless aegis. My body will tell you how the butterflies quietly return and always revisit with secret silent melodies for my temple of reflections.
White wings fly. White wings float. When I’ve got the meaning that is when I cannot forget the words.
Butterflies, Zhuangzi. White butterflies changing colours like in a dream.
I am humbled to have my words so honoured, as part of this haunting image and for the company they keep.
And surprised by the synchronicity, as I have just posted some images from my latest bricolage “Masked Like Athena”. One of the details has the text “what forms white”. http://www.flickr.com/photos/artvaughan/
Dear Naomi,
I went to Marco’s yoga to sort my wobbly head full of marble words falling everywhere but alas…
here I am… feeling steady to comment but not any more articulate than before! lol : )
and when I am like this I usually just list things, like number them (which is only reserved for private email exchanges for it feels so fragmented but I think it is important to just be that self out ‘here’ this one time) or I am a world like marbles, so much to see inside but nothing moves.
1. I am honored and surprised to find my words here. You sure know how to surprise! : )
2. I am just stunned to have my words floating along with the words of those whose work I respect and enjoy and am always moved to a ‘beyond’ after reading.
3. Also, as I mentioned earlier via @ mention on twitter, that just when you posted this, I posted a video I found over at my “Vault” (not my main website) of “human flight” and my words: “when I fly I don’t need words.” That synchronicity alone is a beautiful mystery. Also, to read Vaughn’s synchronicity too is quite moving. It’s as if you created this in some stillness and tapped us gently in ours and we were all doing the same dance.
4. Now, as to the piece itself, I am haunted by it. It is bold without apologies. It is dark without being morbid. It is loud without screaming. It is STILL. It is chilling without frightening. It is STILL.
5. The aforementioned (point 4) being said, it begs the question how intense can stillness be? Which leads one to assume if not conclude that it is quite a daunting place to go—that place of stillness—to write or draw—to create from a vortex within where one must tread alone. But are we really alone once there?
6. The aggregate impact of all the statements you have chosen as a collective is very intense and deeply moving as projected against the background. This is really a favorite and will stay with me for a long time and come up again and again when I go swimming in the deep, intense waters of stillness where worlds are born to music against rain where one must surrender in order to stop bleeding and create something that saves.
honored, humbled, grateful.
~a.
Powerful work, Naomi. So honored to be included in your art.
Provoked a visceral response in me.
This is an intriguing departure in style, perhaps a new direction? In any case, inspired. The figure’s eyes are left offscreen, yet the words reveal what is in her mind’s eye, thus the “windows to the soul” are made present nevertheless. The quotes also look to me like bandages wrapping the heart, protective and healing.
I love seeing your work, which always touches beneath our everyday surfaces.
Blessings,
lucy
this is stunning.
a very personal response from me.
too personal to share.
except to say…
this is stunning.