Black Sphere.

tangled confusion,

fractured uncertainty.

one floats away

the other balances

on the edge.

the light is all wrong.

mazes keep in

bars keep out.

the fires lose heat

in the freezing air.

cold silence muffles

all meaning and

harmony is lost

to disintegrating

composition.

 

can this one be saved?

perhaps multiple layers

of white are needed,

a tabula rasa on which

to begin again

but this time

without the colours

of the heart,

simple earth tones maybe

applied with the practicality

of a tractor

ploughing a field,

a mechanical approach,

technical, rational

with no attachment

to the harvest.

 

Art and poem by clinock.

Art: Black Sphere. 24″ x 18″. acrylic on paper.

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Inside Looking Out -last look- (The 100-#84).

As mentioned in the previous posts for this series this piece is based

on the shared stories and experiences of people I work with

in an art studio attached to a mental health facility.

This work recently sold at a fundraising art show for this facility

and I thought you might be interested to see the final piece.

The added poems for each face were the completing touch.

(See my posts ‘Inside Looking Out’ 1 to 4).

art by clinock / sculpted and painted clay heads in windowed box / each head approx. 3 inches high /

‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog my intention is to present 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.

inside looking out -4-

he doesn’t know

anymore

that he is

inside

looking out.

lost it,

completely.

something broke

forever and now

he passes time

etching his flesh

with ragged fingernails,

distorting his face

against windows

mouthing silent

tangled syllables

and wet abuse

to all

who pass by.

 

/poem and art by clinock / art: sculpted and painted clay heads in windowed box / each head approx. 3 inches high /

This series is based on the shared stories and personal experiences of people I work with in an art studio attached to a mental health facility. I express what I have heard as both fact and creative metaphor.

inside looking out -3-

now here’s a lost soul

quite content to be

inside looking out;

a self-imposed voyeur

who knows beyond doubt

that the silence

of the box and

it’s unyielding walls

are all that protect him

from the consequences

of the damage he will do

if allowed outside.

 

/poem and art by clinock / art: sculpted and painted clay heads in windowed box / each head approx. 3 inches high /

This series is based on the shared stories and personal experiences of people I work with in an art studio attached to a mental health facility. I express what I have heard as both fact and creative metaphor.

inside looking out -2-

from outside

looking in…

identity uncertain.

human or animal?

male or female?

demon or dream?

one thing is for sure

he, she, it wants out,

fast

pawing, scratching

at the captivating glass,

desperate for fields

and open sky,

struggling to break

free and through

the cerebral cube,

to escape and run

on four legs or two

carried by clean winds

and swept by rain

as far as possible,

as quickly as possible

from the inside

looking out.

 

/poem and art by clinock / art: sculpted and painted clay heads in windowed box / each head approx. 3 inches high /

This series is based on the shared stories and personal experiences of people I work with in an art studio attached to a mental health facility. I express what I have heard as both fact and creative metaphor.

inside looking out -1-

staring

through molten sand

longing

for the round world

beyond

the square world

within

mangled perception

of hobbled cells

atrophied

eyes see only glass

without

finding and

lost in searching

for more than was given

before

inside looking out

after

the box

 

/poem and art by clinock / art: sculpted and painted clay heads in windowed box / each head approx. 3 inches high /

This series is based on the shared stories and personal experiences of people I work with in an art studio attached to a mental health facility. I express what I have heard as both fact and creative metaphor.