Showing posts with label angels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label angels. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

YOU, FOR US ARE EVERYTHING



FAR AWAY SO CLOSE... WIM WENDERS.

what the angel says at the beginning of this extraordinary movie...

"YOU, who we love. you do not see us. you do not hear us. you imagine us in the far distance... that we are the messengers... who bring closeness ... who are distant... we are the messengers ...we bring the light into the darkness.... we are neither the light, nor the message... we are the messenger . we are nothing, nothing. You for us are everything...

Friday, October 31, 2008

What we believe






about a week ago my friend Jay told me a fascinating story. his uncle had to have his pacemaker replaced and while the uncle was on the operating table he died for about twenty minutes or so. this happened twice.

jay rushed to his uncle's bedside when he was completely back in this world and asked him what had happened.

"nothing his uncle said. nothing at all. there was just black."

"oh," jay said, "wow, nothing at all? how disappointing. "

"yeah, it was disappointing, there was no white light, no angels, my father was not waiting for me, there was just blackness and these two mayan indians standing next to me telling me not to answer this kid that was calling me to come over to him. he was the next door neighbor who had commtitted suicide a while back and he was there, sitting on a fence, calling me to come over to him, and the mayan indians, two men, kept telling me to ignore him and not to go to him. finally the kid turned around and his face was half gone. it was gruesome and sad. the indians told me to turn away, that he was dead and it was not my time."

Jay was astonished. and we who were listening to the story were astonished and blown away. funny version of nothing, i thought. And i have been ruminating on this ever since. We have these amazing, inexplicable brains, they process thought, emotion, sensations and then make stories so that we can make sense of things and we believe our stories so completely it seems we don't let ourselves open to new ideas even in the in between world. that is wild!!

when the priest came into the hospital room jay's uncle really was mad with him. he accused him of lying to him all these years. there is no after life etc etc..

Jonah Lehrer, in his excellent book, Proust was a Neuroscientist, explains similar phenomena over and over again in essays about art and the science of the brain. Here, in an essay about Cezanne, he shows us how Cezanne's paintings, the dabs of color and thin lines depict what the eyes really see, the mind fills in the rest. he explains the subjectivity of sight scientifically.....

"as Cezanne understood, seeing is imagining. the problem is that there is no way to quantify what we think we see....the shocking fact is that sight is like art. What we see is not real. It has been bent to fit our canvas which is the brain. When we open our eyes, we enter into an illusory world, a scene broken apart by the retina and re-created by the cortex.... It is art, and not science, that is the means by which we express what we see on the inside. The painting, in this respect is closest to reality. It is what gets us closest to experience..."

-PROUST WAS A NERUOSCIENTIST. Johan lehrer. pgs 112-119.

this book is so fascinating. i highly recommend it. he shows how the "human brain has been designed to believe itself.." pg 70.

it seems that actually we really have no idea what exists and what doesn't because we can only see what we believe in. Clearly we have made agreements in society about what we are seeing but even that is subjective. try and describe a shade of red to someone and get them to point out that exact color. almost impossible. we agree on red but the shades and variations slip past the agreement.

so maybe that's why i'm making these images with angels all wrapped in light. i'm trying to push the edges of what i can see. what i believe. and they are how i see. my interpretation of how i see. what i believe. i'm trying to give my own dream the slip.

here are the images. it's subjective. make of them what you will. oh and talk about subjective, an acquaintance was visiting the other day and she said to me, "oh but you do all this superimposing in photoshop etc.." i was dismayed.

so for the record. these are shot with a pinhole camera on polaroid film and minimally burned, dodged, toned in photoshop. less than i would have done in a dark room. that's the truth, no matter what you believe!


xx
iva

Thursday, September 25, 2008

drinking from the river lethe





am finding what i'm getting to and faster than i thought i would. must be a mind addled by lyme's disease, let's me slip away from the temporal plain more easily. and i find myself wandering about with odd images,  angels in all forms, and the sun cooperating. and this passage from The Republic appearing just when i needed it.



"...all the souls had now chosen their lives...they marched on in a scorching heat to the plain of forgetfulness, which was a barren waste, destitute of trees and verdure; and then towards evening they encamped by the river of Unmindfulness, whose water no vessel can hold; of this they were all obliged to drink a certain quantity, and those who were not saved by wisdom drank more than was necessary; and each one as he drank forgot all about all things....about the middle of the night there was a thunderstorm and earthquake and then in an instant they were sent upwards in all manner of ways to their birth, like stars shooting..."

The Republic -Plato-  Jowett translation


and here we land our wings in tatters, our faces confused, half angel half human, or rather, all angel dreaming to be human, wandering about, trying to trick away the effects of the forgetful water and remember who we are. remembering in our sleeping dreams but brushing them away until something jogs our memory and little by little the light is let in.

so here are the pictures that came,  the drink from the river and the landing on earth.  or something like that,  i think words get in the way from now on.  so whatever,  it certainly is the most fun in this world to wander around a farm with angel wings and a pinhole camera! and i seem to be moving backwards so the last photos i posted would come after these.  it's not linear so there we go.   
xxx

Monday, September 22, 2008

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Off Duty Angel








The ideas for these images are coming to me in bits and pieces and then they emerge, seemingly,  of their own volition.

This is what I know. The opera singer has stayed with me.  he  planted a seed that seems to have taken root. The idea that maybe he was only there in my reality. Or I should say jerry’s and my reality as we shared the experience. That maybe my lovely little opera singer was an angel of sorts.   hmm.   well what is an angel exactly?  

The first piece of the idea urged me to find some angel wings and so I did and put them away not really knowing what I would do with them. Maybe use them with models… try to find a way not to be too trite with them.  explore this idea of an angel  appearing in an unexpected fashion.
yesterday the early morning light was so stunning it pulled me from my bed.  i grabbed the wings and my camera and these are the images that came.  

  In the meantime life has been a wild ride.  wild enough to  have me gripped by some un-namable fear in the middle of the night and so i spend my time floating with the shadows across the ceiling, watching the curtains billow in the wind and talking to myself rather than sleeping. trying to shake it. to find consolation.

then this morning i opened my email and found Paulo Coelho's newsletter.  it announced that now it is permissible to download texts and use them and so off i went to see what i could find and here it is the first one i came upon.  

 

When angels talk    by paulo coelho
Nobody is courageous all the time. The unknown is a constant challenge, and being afraid is part of the journey.

What to do? Talk to yourself. Talk alone. Talk to yourself even if others think you have gone crazy. As we talk, an inner force gives us the security to overcome the obstacles that need to be surmounted. We learn lessons from the defeats that we are bound to suffer. And we prepare ourselves for the many victories that will be part of our life.

And just between you and me, those who have this habit (and I’m one of them) know that they never talk alone: the guardian angel is there, listening and helping us to reflect. - paulo coelho 

well,  that's something to think about.  in the meantime the angel looks tired obviously she doesn't get to sleep either.  too busy listening to the midnight mitote in my head.  (mitote is the toltec name for the thousand voice blabber that goes on in your head vying for your attention)   

perhaps this is why one of the angels looks a bit scary.  she's saying enough already.  be in the moment.  sleep at night.   remember all the enthusiastic prattling about living and loving as much as you can!  

so life is wild both high and low and in the meantime here are the wings i've dusted off and i'm excited to see where they will take me.