One of the many awe-inspiring museums under the Smithsonian umbrella is the Air and Space Museum. Here are a few pictures. They're pretty hi-res, so I apologize if they load slowly:
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Arrownd her klay silluwet, 5; complete
I have completed my planned series of images for the the opening scenes of The Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 1. Here they are: 3 individual portraits of Ertha, a composite portrait of Ertha, and a composite portrait representing Arrownd her klay silluwet.
Ertha on first appearance:
Ertha, ashamed, or modest:
Ertha in her becoming:
Ertha, a psychological portrait:
Arrownd her klay silluwet:
Ertha on first appearance:
Ertha, ashamed, or modest:
Ertha in her becoming:
Ertha, a psychological portrait:
Arrownd her klay silluwet:
Friday, April 12, 2013
Yom HaShoah, 5773, #2
Below you will find 2 poems. The first, Derj ov a Notsee (Dirge of a Nazi) is fairly close to the original, written many years ago, and found in my Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 6. The second, Dethsong ov a Notsee, is sort of a doppelganger to the first, emerging as I edited and re-visioned the original. They now stand together in the manuscript, and are followed by the poem/prayer I posted on April 10 for Yom HaShoah. Perhaps they stand as a 3-part suite. As ever, your critique is welcome and desired.
Derj ov a Notsee
Uppon my gut strecht tite, this song
Iz playd in aggonee and fraetful dreem
Tu the Jewish God hu redeemz the week:
By day I kried aggenst Yu;
At nite I stoud aggast in my plase.
My life I bilt, morter and trowl,
Like a masen skillfulee layeeng hiz roez.
My Sole I kaerfulee konfiend in sin,
Layer on layer, blok after blok.
Arrownd me I am konstrukted a tume.
I kownted eech blok;
I am awware ov awl I hav dun.
I bilt a skaffoeld ov merder
But I lost the faeth tu klime it.
I hav lost the will tu kontinnew this triel.
Tho kawlen aggen for annuther blok,
I am tuu week tu muve it.
Iz this wut it meenz tu be ded?
Utherz bild tu annunther werld,
But me, I am ded alreddee.
But I am not slaen.
For then I mite entiyerlee sees
And nutheeng ov me remaen.
Insted, I dekay in a wakeeng dreem,
The sellz ov my boddee,
A korrus ov fyureez and ravenz.
Layer on layer abbuv my hed.
This, my rath, iz enklozen me;
I doent see a way tu be free.
Dethsong ov a Notsee
Tu that Jewish God,
That God ov lite,
He, hu we sot tu overthro.
Uppon my gut strecht tite, this song
Iz playn, it seengen thru my sellz:
By day I fite owwer wor aggenst Yu,
Followeeng kaerfullee laed owt planz.
I, a masen layeeng my roez,
Prowd and streng in my laberz.
But at nite I stand aggast in my plase,
Akkuesd ov sinz unnaemd.
My formen ashor me awl iz well
Az I bild battelments over my hed.
Duweeng my dutee, I kownt eech blok;
I am awware ov awl I hav dun
And I am toeld ware my werk will leed.
I bilt a skaffoeld abbuv my hed.
But at nite I lak the strenth tu klime.
I kawl aggen for the next blok
But I am tuu week to hoeld it.
Wy du I lak the strenth tu klime?
Utherz klime tu thaer nu life,
But me, I choek. I cannot breeth.
O, how I dred this niettime.
Awl my bildung, it louks like klodz
Ov klay dug up and ternd by a plow.
Will nun ov my werk remaen?
Will this niettime nevver end?
Donz the day and I waken frum dreem
But I kannot rize enneemor.
Awl my werk iz kolaps on me.
An immens kaern ov broken bloks
Iz krush the aer frum my lungz.
Now I see ware my werk iz led.
Evree sell ov my boddee is a blok,
Krushen me with thaer waet.
Evree stone iz a skreemen kers.
This, the song that iz made ov me
Wile I must krush eech stone tu dust.
But will I then fiend lite?
Derj ov a Notsee
Uppon my gut strecht tite, this song
Iz playd in aggonee and fraetful dreem
Tu the Jewish God hu redeemz the week:
By day I kried aggenst Yu;
At nite I stoud aggast in my plase.
My life I bilt, morter and trowl,
Like a masen skillfulee layeeng hiz roez.
My Sole I kaerfulee konfiend in sin,
Layer on layer, blok after blok.
Arrownd me I am konstrukted a tume.
I kownted eech blok;
I am awware ov awl I hav dun.
I bilt a skaffoeld ov merder
But I lost the faeth tu klime it.
I hav lost the will tu kontinnew this triel.
Tho kawlen aggen for annuther blok,
I am tuu week tu muve it.
Iz this wut it meenz tu be ded?
Utherz bild tu annunther werld,
But me, I am ded alreddee.
But I am not slaen.
For then I mite entiyerlee sees
And nutheeng ov me remaen.
Insted, I dekay in a wakeeng dreem,
The sellz ov my boddee,
A korrus ov fyureez and ravenz.
Layer on layer abbuv my hed.
This, my rath, iz enklozen me;
I doent see a way tu be free.
Dethsong ov a Notsee
Tu that Jewish God,
That God ov lite,
He, hu we sot tu overthro.
Uppon my gut strecht tite, this song
Iz playn, it seengen thru my sellz:
By day I fite owwer wor aggenst Yu,
Followeeng kaerfullee laed owt planz.
I, a masen layeeng my roez,
Prowd and streng in my laberz.
But at nite I stand aggast in my plase,
Akkuesd ov sinz unnaemd.
My formen ashor me awl iz well
Az I bild battelments over my hed.
Duweeng my dutee, I kownt eech blok;
I am awware ov awl I hav dun
And I am toeld ware my werk will leed.
I bilt a skaffoeld abbuv my hed.
But at nite I lak the strenth tu klime.
I kawl aggen for the next blok
But I am tuu week to hoeld it.
Wy du I lak the strenth tu klime?
Utherz klime tu thaer nu life,
But me, I choek. I cannot breeth.
O, how I dred this niettime.
Awl my bildung, it louks like klodz
Ov klay dug up and ternd by a plow.
Will nun ov my werk remaen?
Will this niettime nevver end?
Donz the day and I waken frum dreem
But I kannot rize enneemor.
Awl my werk iz kolaps on me.
An immens kaern ov broken bloks
Iz krush the aer frum my lungz.
Now I see ware my werk iz led.
Evree sell ov my boddee is a blok,
Krushen me with thaer waet.
Evree stone iz a skreemen kers.
This, the song that iz made ov me
Wile I must krush eech stone tu dust.
But will I then fiend lite?
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Arrownd her klay silluwet, 4
I continue to work on my ebook version of The Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 1. I had expected it would be a simple project, quickly completed, since this first book in the series is but 10 pages long. However, I then decided to take advantage of the expanded features available to ebooks. Specifically, I chose to create illustrations for it, lay in audio of the verses, and even produce a few short video impressions of scenes and ideas. And thus a 2 week project has extended out into many months.
Since January 31, most of the posts on this blog have been devoted to experiments and completed images I have produced as I develop the ebook. This is the 4th in a series of images I have been working on for one scene which includes the line “Arrownd her klay silluwet....”
In this post I present 5 images I developed of a nude. Actually, I produced about 15 or 20 versions of this image after I created the basic foundation. These are my 5 favorites. One of them will become one of 4 layers that will comprise the image “Arrownd her klay silluwet.”
Since January 31, most of the posts on this blog have been devoted to experiments and completed images I have produced as I develop the ebook. This is the 4th in a series of images I have been working on for one scene which includes the line “Arrownd her klay silluwet....”
In this post I present 5 images I developed of a nude. Actually, I produced about 15 or 20 versions of this image after I created the basic foundation. These are my 5 favorites. One of them will become one of 4 layers that will comprise the image “Arrownd her klay silluwet.”
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Yom HaShoah, 5773, 2013
I just completed the main editing of the last book of my Song ov Elmallahz Kumming. Bouk 6 it is, and it is the intermittent and often interrupted story of a Jewish woman who manages to survive during the era of European nazism.
For Yom HaShoah - the day the Holocaust is eulogized each year - perhaps this poem/prayer, one of the last poems in the book, may be appropriate. A poem/prayer like this runs the high risk of being maudlin, overdone, boring, or a re-hashing of a thousand other prayers, any of which would make it worse than useless. Therefore, I beg your indulgence, hoping you will be forthright if you feel all, or portions of this poem, should not see the light of day.
A Praer for Thoze in the Dust
I bow my hed and bend my neez
And bless the Gode ov Werldz
And with the Naemz that pass my lips
I rememmer thoze in the dust.
I rememmer the grate wunz, jeenyessez,
Perfekt in kiendness and mersee,
Abbowt hume we will nevver reed.
Boeth werdz and deedz ar lost.
The brillyent men and wimmen ov letterz
Huze thots, like sperets, kall at owwer dor.
Them hu hav no handz to nok,
And we withowt the eerz tu heer.
I rememmer the heroez hu stoud in battel
Hu deklaemd the monglerz ov hate.
Them hu publeklee resited prayerz,
Or kreyated skoolz in the gettoez.
Thay fell by bloez and nievz and shots.
In the eevneeng, falls a little raen,
And all thaer blud wuz washt awway.
Thaer goudness opend like a portel tu hevven,
Pathz now washt awway.
And du ennee paths tu hevven remaen?
For awl ov them I pray:
Oh Gode hu werks beyond owwer time,
For hume owwer spase is but a shaddo,
Restor thoze addomz ov owwer holee wunz,
Thoze addomz full ov Yur Prezzens.
Embed them in owwer faented Soelz,
That eech ov them inspiyer a thowzend,
And we fulfill wut thay began.
Blessed ar yu, o Lor owwer Gode
Hu rememmerz thoze hu sleep in the dust.
For Yom HaShoah - the day the Holocaust is eulogized each year - perhaps this poem/prayer, one of the last poems in the book, may be appropriate. A poem/prayer like this runs the high risk of being maudlin, overdone, boring, or a re-hashing of a thousand other prayers, any of which would make it worse than useless. Therefore, I beg your indulgence, hoping you will be forthright if you feel all, or portions of this poem, should not see the light of day.
A Praer for Thoze in the Dust
I bow my hed and bend my neez
And bless the Gode ov Werldz
And with the Naemz that pass my lips
I rememmer thoze in the dust.
I rememmer the grate wunz, jeenyessez,
Perfekt in kiendness and mersee,
Abbowt hume we will nevver reed.
Boeth werdz and deedz ar lost.
The brillyent men and wimmen ov letterz
Huze thots, like sperets, kall at owwer dor.
Them hu hav no handz to nok,
And we withowt the eerz tu heer.
I rememmer the heroez hu stoud in battel
Hu deklaemd the monglerz ov hate.
Them hu publeklee resited prayerz,
Or kreyated skoolz in the gettoez.
Thay fell by bloez and nievz and shots.
In the eevneeng, falls a little raen,
And all thaer blud wuz washt awway.
Thaer goudness opend like a portel tu hevven,
Pathz now washt awway.
And du ennee paths tu hevven remaen?
For awl ov them I pray:
Oh Gode hu werks beyond owwer time,
For hume owwer spase is but a shaddo,
Restor thoze addomz ov owwer holee wunz,
Thoze addomz full ov Yur Prezzens.
Embed them in owwer faented Soelz,
That eech ov them inspiyer a thowzend,
And we fulfill wut thay began.
Blessed ar yu, o Lor owwer Gode
Hu rememmerz thoze hu sleep in the dust.
Saturday, April 06, 2013
Arrownd her klay silluwet, 3
Working on the uppermost layer of the image to illustrate the stanzas from The Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 1, with the line "arrownd her klay silluwet" embedded in them, I have created the following images.
Each of the layers in the completed (multi-layer) image will be reused, as part of an on-going image-narrative that evolves in a parallel manner with the poem's narrative.
Each of the layers in the completed (multi-layer) image will be reused, as part of an on-going image-narrative that evolves in a parallel manner with the poem's narrative.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)