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Posts Tagged ‘Pablo Neruda’



“The word was born in the blood, grew in the dark body, beating, and took flight through the lips and the mouth. Farther away and nearer still, still it came from dead fathers and from wondering races, from lands which had turned to stone, lands weary of their poor tribes, for when grief took to the roads the people set out and arrived and married new land and water to grow their words again. And so this is the inheritance; this is the wavelength which connects us with dead men and the dawning of new beings not yet come to light.”

― Pablo Neruda



Found myself awake early this morning. So many things racing through my head that it was hard to focus on trying to sleep. Big things and little things- a gnawing worry for this country and tiny nagging reminders of things that need to be done soon. All things that couldn’t be resolved at 2 AM in the woods where I live.

Then it struck me that it was around this time of the morning that my mom died 25 years ago on this very date.

Geez, 25 years come and gone. And there I was, in bed thinking of her death. 

I tried to dredge up memories of her, hoping that it would drown out the other things in the background of my mind, all screaming for attention or at least equal air time. Some memories came easily. Those are the ingrained ones that have become part of the synapses.

But I tried to dig deeper and there were only shadows of memories. Not real recollection. Maybe not even real. I don’t know for sure and most likely never will.

25 years has a way of changing things in your mind.

So, I tried focusing on the traits that I may have inherited from her, some good and some bad. Some neither. They just are what they are.

Some made me laugh. Some made me cry.

Laughter and tears. Quite the inheritance.

There are certainly worse things in this world.

It made me think in bed of the painting above that I recently took out to the West End Gallery. Called From Whence I Came, it’s part of my Archaeology series from back in 2008. I think this piece was only shown once in a gallery before it came back to me. For some unknown reason, it found its way to the back of a closet, where it has been residing for the past 12 years. I pulled it out a few weeks back and it was like seeing it for the first time again. 

It made me think of all the choices and serendipity that it took for me to arrive at this place in the world. It’s the same for all of us. We’re all products of the decisions and events that took place throughout the history of man on this planet. One person succumbing to a virus instead of surviving it a thousand years ago and our whole history as a person would be different. 

We’re all the spearpoints, the leading edges, the very top of the pyramids of all that came before us. We were brought to this point by the bones and blood of thousands of lives before us.

All their strength. All their vulnerability.

I don’t know where I want this to go. Just thinking out loud, I guess, between the laughter and the tears.

Gotta go. Have a good day, folks.

 

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GC Myers- The ConversationWhat did the tree learn from the earth
to be able to talk with the sky?

Pablo Neruda, The Book of Questions

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I think that much of my work has to do with asking questions.  Not necessarily about getting answers, mind you, but about making inquiries about those motivations and meanings of the world, both inner and outer. About trying to create a dialogue, a give and take between the worldly and the ethereal.

And that questioning, that conversation, is what I see in this simple, small painting.

Will there ever be an answer?

That can only be answered with another question: Who knows?

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GC Myers-The Patient Heart smOnly a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

–Pablo Neruda

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We are living in a crazy time.  Every week, every day, brings us news of some new atrocity around the world– Nice, France is just the latest of all too many– and we find ourselves gripped with feelings of anger, fear and confusion.  We want answers and solutions yet we don’t really know what are the real questions being posed before us.  We just want action, or should I say reaction.

We seem to react, raging and flailing, to every situation without thought.  We take little time to consider our words or actions and their consequences.  It is all now, now, now.  And this unsettled impatience makes us willing to look to those people who offer us quick and easy answers with little substance to back their claims of what they can do.  This path ultimately comes at a much greater expense than we could ever foresee in our haste to react.

There are no quick and easy answers to the questions and problems that lay before us.  The immediate future requires, as Neruda puts it above, a burning patience.  Our first reaction is not always our best and taking a long moment to contemplate our actions is generally a wise move.

That being said, I have to say that the last few weeks have proved to me that my work has a real purpose, at least for myself.  This has been a time of real stress in the world and with every day’s dose of awful news I found myself looking closer and closer at my work as I was getting ready for the upcoming show.  At certain stressful moments, I found myself really going into the work, being absorbed by the harmonies and rhythms.

These moments were like little meditative breaks where I felt the chaos of the outside world was blocked off, only a dark mass well beyond the boundaries of the world I was now in.  It brought on an energizing calm, one that allowed me to not react with anger or despair.  It reinforced my burning patience.

And that was just what I needed from it.

The painting above is titled The Patient Heart and is 4″ by 16″ on paper.  It is included in my show, Contact, at the West End Gallery in Corning, which opens next Friday, July 22.  The show has been delivered and is now in the gallery for previews.

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