Artistic Tribute 9

This weeks runner is none other then my very own sister Christine, with her wonderful piece of photography, "Strange". Its not photoshopped but, as I understand, done with a certain peculiar lighting technique. Anyways, enough of that... enjoy.

Artistic Tribute 8

Its been awhile since I've done one of these. This tribute is for Arthur Rimbaud, the great visionary, and his poem, "The Dance of the Hanged Man" This piece captures me with its imagery especially.


On the black gallows, one-armed friend,
The paladins are dancing, dancing
The lean, the devil's paladins
The skeletons of Saladins.

Sir Beelzebub pulls by the scruff
His little black puppets who grin at the sky,
And with a backhander in the head like a kick,
Makes them dance, dance, to an old Carol-tune!

And the puppets, shaken about, entwine their thin arms:
Their breasts pierced with light, like black organ-pipes
Which once gentle ladies pressed to their own,
Jostle together protractedly in hideous love-making.

Hurray! the gay dancers, you whose bellies are gone!
You can cut capers on such a long stage!
Hop! never mind whether it's fighting or dancing!
- Beelzebub, maddened, saws on his fiddles!

Oh the hard heels, no one's pumps are wearing out!
And nearly all have taken of their shirts of skin;
The rest is not embarrassing and can be seen without shame.
On each skull the snow places a white hat:

The crow acts as a plume for these cracked brains,
A scrap of flesh clings to each lean chin:
You would say, to see them turning in their dark combats,
They were stiff knights clashing pasteboard armours.

Hurrah! the wind whistles at the skeletons' grand ball!
The black gallows moans like an organ of iron !
The wolves howl back from the violet forests:
And on the horizon the sky is hell-red...

Ho there, shake up those funereal braggarts,
Craftily telling with their great broken fingers
The beads of their loves on their pale vertebrae:
Hey the departed, this is no monastery here!

Oh! but see how from the middle of this Dance of Death
Springs into the red sky a great skeleton, mad,
Carried away by his own impetus, like a rearing horse:
And, feeling the rope tight again round his neck,

Clenches his knuckles on his thighbone with a crack
Uttering cries like mocking laughter,
And then like a mountebank into his booth,
Skips back into the dance to the music of the bones!

On the black gallows, one-armed friend,
The paladins are dancing, dancing
The lean, the devil's paladins
The skeletons of Saladins.

Artistic Tribute 7

This weeks runner is Don Mclean... for his wonderful song Vincent, written in honor of Vincent Van Gogh, the famous Dutch painter. I'm not one for system music but... listen to it. Its beautiful.

Here's the link: http://youtube.com/watch?v=Gi_P8XwrSCU&mode=related&search=

And yes.. I'll have pictures soon enough, this weeks been stressful, but thank you all that have been praying for me.

Adios

Artistic Tribute 6

This weeks runner is Lord George Gordan Byron a British Romanticism poet. His poetry always seems to inspire me to write long pieces of form, and his poem "The Prisoner of Chillion" is an excellent discourse on the spirit of a once free man now broken. Here, however, is one of his shorter pieces.

Lines Inscribed Upon a Cup Formed From a Skull

Start not -nor deem my spirit fled:
In me behold the only skull
From which, unlike a living head,
Whatever flows is never dull.

I lived, I loved, I quaffed like thee;
I died: let earth my bones resign:
Fill up -thou canst not injure me;
The worm hath fouler lips than thine.

Better to hold the sparkling grape
Than nurse the earthworm's slimy brood,
And circle in the goblet's shape
The drink of gods than reptile's food.

Where once my wit, perchance, hath shone,
In aid of others' let me shine;
And when, alas! our brains are gone,
What nobler substitute than wine?

Quaff while thou canst; another race,
When thou and thine like me are sped,
May rescue thee from earth's embrace,
And rhyme and revel with the dead.

Why not -since through life's little day
Our heads such sad effects produce?
Redeemed from worms and wasting clay,
This chance is theirs to be of use.

Artistic Tribute 5

This weeks runner is Caspar David Friedrich: German Romanticism painter, his works haunt me and are an infinite source of inspiration for my Blank Verse, both in tone and imagery. Just look for yourself and you'll see... Behold, my darlings, a feast!

Artistic Tribute 4

This weeks tribute is to Percy Bysshe Shelley. English Romantic poet and mystic, his verse is a source of inspiration for my fixed form. Here's a personal favorite of mine called "When the Lamp is Shattered."


When the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lies dead -
When the cloud is scattered,
The rainbow's glory is shed.
When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remembered not;
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot.

As music and splendour
Survive not the lamp and the lute,
The heart's echoes render
No song when the spirit is mute -
No song but sad dirges,
Like the wind through a ruined cell,
Or the mournful surges
That ring the dead seaman's knell.

When hearts have once mingled,
Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possessed.
O Love! who bewailest
The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
For your cradle, your home, and your bier?

Its passions will rock thee,
As the storms rock the ravens on high;
Bright reason will mock thee,
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home
Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come.

Artistic Tribute 3

In music, this weeks runner is Marie Goode and her song "Fighting the Rain" (which you can find here: http://nathanknight.com/audio/Fighting%20The%20Rain.mp3) Its slower then what I usually enjoy but still, listen to it or I will use your soul as string to sew back the right eye of Mr. Friendly. (Mwahahaha feel the wrath of KAHN!!) In my humble opinion she's got a very very good voice though, probably better then any other female vocalist in the family.

And Marie, if your reading this I just want to say thank you for making this song. You don't know how many times it helped me with stuff that I've been going through so yes, I love you tons and tons girl so smile, o.k?

Artistic Tribute 2

In Art, this weeks runner is Boris Vallejo (fantasy, erotica and sci-fi art.) What I like best about him is that he mixes sci-fi and fantasy art styles alot and does it in a very colorful way. Here's a couple of personal favorites.

Artistic Tribute 1

Every week from now on, I'm going to make it a habit to post a tribute (along with a work or two) of something artistically great and the people that have done it. Litterature, Art, sculpting, architecture, music... any type of art. Just so people can know what I think is pretty.

Let me clarify though what is art... it is someting beautiful, that has stood the test of time, and that drives me. Good Charolette is not art, comic books and Tom Clancy is not art...

Anyways yes, here is the first runner up: Sylvia Plath... god I love Sylvia Plath

Mad Girl's Love Song

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"