Image-Text-Music

Image-Text-Music, 9.30.14 — Fang Lijun, Stevie Smith, Josh Ritter

Painting by Fang Lijun, "Swimming No. 1" (1994)

Painting by Fang Lijun, “Swimming No. 1” (1994)

“Not Waving But Drowning,” by Stevie Smith

 

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

 

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he’s dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

 

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

 

**
Josh Ritter, “New Lover”
Standard
Image-Text-Music

Image-Text-Music, 9.28.14 — Howard Russell Butler, William Blake, Phillip Glass

Solar eclipse as seen from Baker, Oregon, 1918, left panel in triptych, The three solar eclipses seen in the United States in 1918, 1923, and 1925, by Howard Russell Butler, 1925

Solar eclipse as seen from Baker, Oregon, 1918, left panel in triptych, The three solar eclipses seen in the United States in 1918, 1923, and 1925, by Howard Russell Butler, 1925

from “Auguries of Innocence,” by William Blake

The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile

Make Lame Philosophy to smile

He who Doubts from what he sees

Will neer Believe do what you Please

If the Sun & Moon should Doubt

Thyed immediately Go out

To be in a Passion you Good may Do

But no Good if a Passion is in you

The Whore & Gambler by the State

Licencd build that Nations Fate

The Harlots cry from Street to Street

Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet

The Winners Shout the Losers Curse

Dance before dead Englands Hearse

Every Night & every Morn

Some to Misery are Born

Every Morn & every Night

Some are Born to sweet delight

Some are Born to sweet delight

Some are Born to Endless Night

We are led to Believe a Lie

When we see not Thro the Eye

Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night

When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light

God Appears & God is Light

To those poor Souls who dwell in Night

But does a Human Form Display

To those who Dwell in Realms of day

**

Phillip Glass, “String Quartet No. 1, Part 1

Standard
Image-Text-Music

Image-Text-Music, 9.26.14 — Duane Hanson, Denis Johnson, Nina Simone

A Duane Hanson lifelike sculpture, “Our Lady of the Folding Chair” (1976)

A Duane Hanson lifelike sculpture, “Our Lady of the Folding Chair” (1976)

“The Boarding,” by Denis Johnson

 

One of these days under the white

clouds onto the white

lines of the goddamn PED

X-ING I shall be flattened,

and I shall spill my bag of discount

medicines upon the avenue,

and an abruptly materializing bouquet

of bums, retirees, and Mexican

street-gangers will see all what

kinds of diseases are enjoying me

and what kind of underwear and my little

old lady’s legs spidery with veins.

So Mr. Young and Lovely Negro Bus

Driver I care exactly this: zero,

that you see these things

now as I fling my shopping

up by your seat, putting

this left-hand foot way up

on the step so this dress rides up,

grabbing this metal pole like

a beam of silver falling down

from Heaven to my aid, thank-you,

hollering, “Watch det my medicine

one second for me will you dolling,

I’m four feet and det’s a tall bus

you got and it’s hot and I got

every disease they are making

these days, my God, Jesus Christ,

I’m telling you out of my soul.”

**

Nina Simone, “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out”

Standard
Image-Text-Music

Image-Text-Music, 9.25.14 — Okada Baison, Thom Gunn, Bob Dylan

Hawk Holding a Small Bird, album leaf by Okada Baison (ca. 1891/92)

Hawk Holding a Small Bird, album leaf by Okada Baison (ca. 1891/92)

“Tamer and Hawk,” by Thom Gunn
I thought I was so tough,
But gentled at your hands,
Cannot be quick enough
To fly for you and show
That when I go I go
At your commands.

Even in flight above
I am no longer free:
You seeled me with your love,
I am blind to other birds—
The habit of your words
Has hooded me.

As formerly, I wheel
I hover and I twist,
But only want the feel,
In my possessive thought,
Of catcher and of caught
Upon your wrist.

You but half civilize,
Taming me in this way.
Through having only eyes
For you I fear to lose,
I lose to keep, and choose
Tamer as prey.

**

Bob Dylan, “Shelter from the Storm

Standard
Image-Text-Music

Image-Text-Music, 9.23.14 — Rembrandt, Philip Whalen, Arvo Part

Painting by Rembrandt, "Philosopher in Meditation" (1632)

Painting by Rembrandt, “Philosopher in Meditation” (1632)

“A Vision of the Bodhisattvas,” by Philip Whalen

 

They pass before me one by one riding on animals

“What are you waiting for,” they want to know

 

Z—, young as he is (& mad into the bargain) tells me

“Some day you’ll drop everything & become a rishi, you know.”

 

I know

The forest is there, I’ve lived in it

    More certainly than this town? Irrelevant—

 

    What am I waiting for?

A change in customs that will take 1000 years to come about?

Who’s to make the change but me?

 

    “Returning again and again,” Amida says

 

Why’s that dream so necessary? walking out of whatever house alone

Nothing but the clothes on my back, money or no

Down the road to the next place the highway leading to the

mountains

From which I absolutely must come back

 

What business have I to do that?

I know the world and I love it too much and it

Is not the one I’d find outside this door.

 

**

Arvo Pärt, “Tabula Rasa: II. Silentium

Standard
Image-Text-Music

Image-Text-Music, 9.22.14 — Frederic Edwin Church, Trumbull Stickney, Bon Iver

Frederic Edwin Church, “Landscape in the Adirondacks” (1878)

Frederic Edwin Church, “Landscape in the Adirondacks” (1878)

“Mnemosyne,” by Trumbull Stickney

 

It’s autumn in the country I remember.

 

How warm a wind blew here about the ways!

And shadows on the hillside lay to slumber

During the long sun-sweetened summer-days.

 

It’s cold abroad the country I remember.

 

The swallows veering skimmed the golden grain

At midday with a wing aslant and limber;

And yellow cattle browsed upon the plain.

 

It’s empty down the country I remember.

 

I had a sister lovely in my sight:

Her hair was dark, her eyes were very sombre;

We sang together in the woods at night.

 

It’s lonely in the country I remember.

 

The babble of our children fills my ears,

And on our hearth I stare the perished ember

To flames that show all starry thro’ my tears.

 

It’s dark about the country I remember.

 

There are the mountains where I lived. The path

Is slushed with cattle-tracks and fallen timber,

The stumps are twisted by the tempests’ wrath.

 

But that I knew these places are my own,

I’d ask how came such wretchedness to cumber

The earth, and I to people it alone.

 

It rains across the country I remember.

 

***

Bon Iver, “Calgary

Standard