Fading into obscurity

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Fading into obscurity

Drawn on canvas with ‘permanent’ black marker pen six months ago.  The image has since faded through being left forgotten on a table near a window… the sunshine fading the image away.

Ill health got in the way of putting any finishing touches to the canvas… and the image ‘faded into obscurity’.  It was nice to just do something for the fun of it… even if it didn’t last.

Much more fun to do something because you want to do it… instead of doing something to please others… even if it ends in ‘fading into obscurity’.

MINDSHIFT

As the world gets more and more divided
By religion, politics, class, gender
As well as a plethora (an excess) of discrimination
For seemingly anything dreamt up under the sun
Don’t forget we are all different
Each one of us
Individual
So don’t try to pin us down

In so many ways
Jung may be to blame (maybe Freud too)
For clinical precision
Dissecting, labelling
How some of us feel
Certain sections
BUT
We don’t all fit into the
Psychiatrist’s/psychotherapist’s sectioning of society
The mind may be a complex thing
But hey Jung don’t overthink it!

When Rorschach takes an innocent
Swiss childhood game ‘Klecksography’
Of making pictures out of inkblots
And turns it into something more sinister
The controversial ‘Rorschach inkblot test’
To measure social behaviour

Maybe Rorschach should have taken the time
Instead to stare
More closely
Really taken notice
Sensed the ink blots of butterflies
That gently stirred, fluttered
Then rose in unison and then
Gracefully flew out his window

Why stare out?
Because there are miracles of life
Happening every day
Does it really matter if one person
Likes solitude
Or another person
Likes the opposite
Or that other people
Are in between?

Let people be
Don’t forget we are all different
don’t forget to take the time
to stare out the window
you may be missing something
miraculous!

~

Carl Gustav Jung, often referred to as C. G. Jung, was a Swiss psychiatrist and psychotherapist who founded analytical psychology.

Sigmund Freud was an Austrian neurologist and the father of psychoanalysis, a clinical method for treating psychopathology through dialogue between a patient and a psychoanalyst.

Klecksography is the art of making images from inkblots. The work was pioneered by Justinus Kerner, who included klecksographs in his books of poetry.  Since the 1890s, psychologists have used it as a tool for studying the subconscious, most famously Hermann Rorschach in his Rorschach inkblot test.

A klecksography by Justinus Kerner, published 1879

A klecksograph by Justinus Kerner, published 1879

The Rorschach test; (also known as the Rorschach inkblot test, the Rorschach technique, or simply the inkblot test) is a psychological test in which subjects’ perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed using psychological interpretation, complex algorithms, or both. Some psychologists use this test to examine a person’s personality characteristics and emotional functioning. It has been employed to detect underlying thought disorder, especially in cases where patients are reluctant to describe their thinking processes openly.  The test is named after its creator, Swiss psychologist Hermann Rorschach.

Rorschach test diagnostics

One of the ten cards used in the Rorschach test.  The images themselves are only one component of the test, whose focus is the analysis of the perception of the images.

Autumn of life:

Autumn of life:

Trapped inside
Stifling heat
Outside freezing cold
Staring upwards
Stark white ceiling
Cracks
Jagged
Spreading
Imminent collapse
Who knows when

Sunlight glaring
Overbright
Moisture droplets
Trapped between panes
Riverlets caught
Frozen in time
Light
Playing on leaves
Rustled
By wind
Cool
Clear sky
Pale blue
Fluffy clouds

Piercing cry
Seagull’s territory
Beak jabbing
Mercilessly
Display of power
Dark
Black crow
Retreats
Flapping awkwardly

Autumn of life
For some
Just an
Everyday
Drama
For others

© 2015 – Lesley Saine

A further challenge (putting together a collection of my poetry)

After finishing my fourth novel ‘The Purple Queen’, I have now decided to do a poetry book.  To put all of my poetry into one place as ‘COLLECTED POEMS’.

Many of the earlier poems were included in my fantasy series of ThornRose Novels: ‘The Death Angels’ Vol 1; ‘Death? Or Glory?’ Vol 2, ‘The DeathRose’ Vol 3; and ‘The Purple Queen’ Vol 4.  More recent poems were created in 2015.

It will be good to have all of them, as a record, in one place.

 

Artist’s dilemma

Artist’s dilemma

Canvas paintings, medium, supposedly as practice
‘Supposedly’ because they were meant to be
Somehow they have taken on a new life
A pencil sketch, added marker line
Washed with acrylic in brilliant hues
Now medium canvases sit disjointed
Bird doodle one side, pattern on the other
On either side of a larger canvas
The doodle, the pattern, repeated as one
Neatly fitting together on the central large canvas
Making it almost a triptych
Sitting on top, yet another large canvas
Bare white canvas, marked with pencil
Awaiting its marker line, when the pen arrives
To follow, its wash of acrylic, and then?
Who knows? Hesitancy to follow through?
Yet again. Perhaps another repeat to come?
Or flood this canvas with added shades?
Let the deed be done
To repent at leisure
Or leave it as it is
Enjoying the vibrancy
Splash of colour
Brightening
Dark
Dusty
Room.
© 2015, Lesley Saine

Deciding not to add another colour to the medium canvases and instead to repeat the doodle/pattern design onto one larger canvas. Except then deciding not to add another colour on top of the larger canvas also… which results in starting again with another large blank canvas. So far just a pencil line, waiting for a marker pen to arrive in the post… then waiting for some more acrylic to arrive… whilst the dust gathers with indecision on what to do next.  Too easy to use waiting for supplies as an excuse not to do something. Waiting for a marker pen. Waiting for some acrylic. In the meantime the bright acrylic hues light up the dark, dusty room.

My writing challenge (fourth novel nearly completed)…

Several years ago I decided to self-publish my writing.  The challenge I set myself was to put all my writing into novels and to do everything myself including the artwork for the covers.  There is plenty of advice out there saying you shouldn’t do it yourself… but I ignored it.  Some writers used to do their own artwork such as JRR Tolkien, Beatrix Potter, etc.  You can proofread your own work and laugh at all the stupid mistakes you find such as using ‘taught’ instead of ‘taut’ – the spellchecker doesn’t know the difference.

I do prefer the feel of holding an actual paperback book in my hands. There is something satisfying about having a printed book and being able to turn its pages.

At the moment I’ve nearly completed by fourth novel.  The fourth novel has been the hardest to complete.  As I get older my mind is not as sharp as it used to be… I forget stuff easily… find it harder to think.  Especially find it harder to concentrate on putting a book together.  Which is why the fourth novel has taken me so long to do… much longer than the first three novels.  It is a darker novel than the first three.

Basically I just wrote about stuff that caught my imagination which became stories and poems that ended up in my novels.  When I first began to write the ideas just flooded into my mind, almost taking form by themselves.  Though I had noticed that bursts of creativity often coincided with courses that I had been doing or other things happening in my life.  But that wasn’t always the case.  Sometimes doing courses did the opposite to my creativity.

The writing part was the fun bit.  Putting the writing into book form, having decided to self publish and do everything myself including the artwork for the covers, soon became a chore instead.  Especially with the proofreading part when no matter how many times I re-read my books I kept finding silly mistakes I had overlooked.  For anyone who likes to criticize books for having mistakes in… I would recommend that they try to write without making mistakes in their work… it isn’t as easy as it seems!

Which made me look back nostalgically at how much fun it used to be at the beginning… when I just wrote for the fun of it because I enjoyed making up imaginative stories and poems.  Similarly with my artwork, the fun part of that was the time spent drawing and painting, just for the love of doing it.

Maybe there is still some creative spark hidden deep down inside me still.  Perhaps one day it will surface again.  Creativity can come and go in bursts and I can never predict when it will surface again… I can just be grateful for the times when it does.  If I don’t create something that has personal meaning to me, it would just be pointless.

 

 

FOLLOWING IN THE FOOTSTEPS… (take your own sweet time…):

FOLLOWING IN THE FOOTSTEPS… (take your own sweet time…):

Following in the footsteps of many a great artist: prolific in their early years and becoming more and more thoughtful or adaptive about what to produce in their later years and often taking a very long time to get something done. Though I’m not quite at the stage where I sit cutting out shapes from pieces of painted paper with a pair of scissors and trying to make patterns from them. (Coping with the difficulties of old age and illness in his later years, Matisse turned to “drawing with scissors,” making his famous cut-out artworks).
I was bemoaning the fact that I am taking a very long time to get anything done these days. For some time I think about doing a painting. Perhaps another large painting. I already have some large canvas which has been gathering dust for possibly years. I buy some small canvases to supposedly practice on, which stay in their carrier bag. A few weeks later I consider that I should actually take the small canvases out of the carrier bag and take the wrapping off the pack of canvases. The partly unwrapped pack of canvases sit on a table gathering dust for a few weeks more.
I eventually decide to look in a couple of my sketch books for some ‘inspiration’ and eventually find a drawing I like. A few more days go by, or was it weeks? as the old sketch book sits open on a desk next to the partly unwrapped pack of small canvases.
Eventually I finally take out one small canvas, pick up a pencil and draw the sketch onto it. I might actually take it a few steps further in the next few days? weeks? months? possibly years???
Bemoaning the fact that it took so long to get to this stage… I was gratefully surprised to be told that it doesn’t matter how long it takes you to get something done as long as you do start to do something. Nowadays with living in a world where everything is expected to be almost done instantly… it is refreshing to hear the view that it is more than ok to take your own sweet time on doing something.