Electro-Static Night Sweats

Electro-Static Night Sweats

In the still quiet breeze of the night
walking along the riverside,
wet rustle splashing,
black and white sine waves come my way
in electrostatic frequencies that equal
inequality and sound holy, all holy.
fury and calm and I am
reflecting the surface, reflecting me:
a torrent of static, overheard conversations
in my head in a cafe on a Saturday
when the lights are dim and red.

Glowing globes of phosphors
swirling above and the dancing of commerce below
brings me to leap of faith I can't make
(protestations from a former protestant
who's given up the ghost to find the monkey
bones buried in the dirt, an African mother,
my African mother, the origin of our species):
Absolam, Absolam, what smoldering cities we make with greed!

And what will it make of me?
Silver pieces bought Jesus’ body-
What price then for the soul?
I am clanging and empty as a tin drum
rattling inside, a hollow tune:
How can you accuse me of your guilty pleasures?

Art McLean
Michael J. Dingler
January 2005

A Strong Subtle Sound

A strong subtle sound,

Like that of a brush whipping

A canvas ‘long around midnight

On a quiet night,

When stillness is still growing

And the paint is flying

To and fro, back and forth,

In soft little explosions of color,

Is a night such as tonight,

Where solitude is painted in hues

Of green and gold; a happy sprite

Hiding in a corner and a fairy princess

Riding dragonfly wings singing

out a song of sweet vidalia purple.

-18 January 05

A Quiet Night Goodbye

I lived a quiet night goodbye,

wrestled on the floor painting

grout lines with my finger tips

while you slept with the blue

light crawling through the window

your skin cool with color.



By morning you were gone

like the last silk fabrics slipping

through seamstress hands,

your motion like wind through the bedroom,

then the sad sound of the front door closing.

I imagined you moving

across the yard with an armful

of books, stepping with your tiptoes,

dew laying peaceful on moist morning grass.



-A collaboration with Katie Bowler (www.katiebowler.com)

While I Sit Idly By Painting

I've taken up oil painting to help me purge my idle time of too much thinking. There is something more to it than I anticipated. The main thing I didn't anticipate was the amount of time that I'd have to wait before progressing to the next step of a painting. I'll have to admit that there have been a couple of learning margins, but for the most part, I'm diggin' it so far.

I started out a helluva long time ago with acrylics, which is easier if you're wanting things to dry quickly. It's easier in a lot of ways compared to oil. The colors with oil, however, are richer. Plus, there's a smell to the paint drying on the canvas that makes it a lot more...well, a lot more something.

The best part of it all is learning something new. Sitting down and figuring out a method to the madness and then applying it. I need to learn more about the process of painting and layering and colors and all sorts of crap, but that'll come in time. In the meantime, however, I will enjoy my amateur status.

This is the end of today's pointless insight.