We like each other.
This is like telling the birds
to not gather in flocks,
the buffalo to not travel in herds,
the wolf to hunt alone.
There is a hurt in it,
a primal pain.
Like an ant separated from the colony, we
search for the trail left by the others.
The poem needs a blog
and the blog a poem.
The New Year needs
a poem tossed to the winds,
the unmasked wind,
the metaphor wind,
announcing the metaphor sunrise
in an old blog
from an old man
in a new year.
These words are stored with magnetic spots
that are neither black nor white
nor laying on the pages of a book
waiting for the wind
from the window
to turn the page.
These words are there
to scroll by and be gone,
leaving metaphor winds
in a room.
….David Michael Jackson
There I was
under the house again
crawling in water
toward a tiny stream,
a small waterfall
between a crawlspace and a wet hell,
because the commode is a water devil.
Feed me water, it says,
or take a ride to a gas station, friend!
I approach the leak,
crawling in a leak creek,
avoiding the call to the plumber,
between a crawlspace and a wet hell,
dragging my wet tools minus the one I need,
minus the one tool the plumber know that he needs,
or she, should she also be
crawling between a crawlspace and a wet hell
with the tool that
I don’t have.
I approach the leak,
which only drips at me now,
I approach with my vast knowledge gained from
minutes of watching videos, with my
shark bites, my compression fittings,
my torch, my solder, my flux,
minus that tool I missed in the video.
“Blast ye Gods of human plumbing distress I cry!”
as I turn wet and humbled,
as I drag myself
toward that small rectangular hole
at the end of a long dark wet
crawl, hoping nothing is moving ahead of me.
“Who needs a plumber!”
I call as I emerge
flat on my back exhausted in the sunshine,
and hear the words,
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
Plumber Poem by David Michael Jackson 2019
“He seeks to represent a didactic response to conceptual perception, preferring to represent color as an alternative to concept rather than as a denial of form.” WTF?
The painting presented might be pink marshmallows with toothpicks and ribbons. We, the public, are told that we should weep when viewing a Rothko, that Pollock had such control of his “drip” and that we are to understand the statement of intent and connect it to these pink marshmallows. The pink marshmallows may be really good art and it may remind you of that pink chiffon blouse that your Aunt Mabel wore and you buy the art. When you show it to your friends, do you mention a didactic response or Aunt Mabel? Whose “meaning” for the painting is more valid, yours or that of the artist? Which is more interesting, the realization of intent or the magic of individual perception?
When we view the cave art from 35,000 years ago, we discuss and guess the intent but we celebrate the wonderful realization of the art and perception. What was the intent of Michelangelo’s David, the Mona Lisa? Those artists didn’t have to write one. The intent may have been evident in the art. We are left to determine what is said by more concrete evidence in the art than today. The Impressionists didn’t have to say anything, the Cubists were quiet. Even Marcel Duchamp didn’t have to say, “I declare this urinal to be art.” Words were written by others. The artist just put it in front of you and the newspaper would decode the intent.
Modern Art seems to require a resume and words that let us know that the artist has taken a journey we don’t quite understand. Left alone in the museum, we’ll gravitate on our own based upon perception and not intent.
When I visited the Louvre as a young serviceman, I didn’t know what I was seeing. It seemed to my green uneducated eyes that a lot of churches in the past seemed to want a picture of the Crucifixion. All seemed to have the same intent. When your intent is to paint the king, your intent is to please the king. The impressionists also seemed to have the same impressionist intent, to represent the moment. When the art is a radical departure, it needs no statement.
So why is the statement of intent so important today in the art world? The importance of words is right here on this modern page. Art has always been about the words, the discussion. Visit an opening and it feels like a bunch of people standing around talking. It’s not that the art is secondary but modern art needs the words. Duchamp’s urinal is no longer a urinal. It’s art because he said it was, the gallery owner let him say it and the paper wrote about it. The public is informed and educated with words.
Is it the art or the words? The first words on the art are the name of the artist. In that regard, it’s the words. Without the right words there, the statement of intent is for the gallery owner. “Here is what I was going for” and here is my resume. Art has become a job for which we apply.
If we make it, the words tell the public when to weep.
David Michael Jackson is the Publisher of Artvilla and other websites. He’s a poet, a musician and outsider artist. “I write a poem when the blog needs one. It’s like getting on the road without a destination. The poem seems to go somewhere on its own. I like to paint with no intent other than to put paint on the canvas. The next day, I’ll change it without knowing why except that it’s not “there”. If I’m my only customer I want to discover something or at least go looking . My latest abstract is Painting with No Up or Down. It’s up to you what it means.”
Abstract art is either contrived or discovered or both. It is often a search for what is in the stone after you carve it. Interpretation and perception, though, are determined by the viewer and the artist. If the artist paints the Mona Lisa and you buy it because it looks like your Aunt Marge, the perception of the painting is entirely different than the “intent” of the artist. Artists speak a language of intent.
The artist is Artvilla’s D M Jackson, “David Michael Jackson”.
“I seek to represent the transcendence of non-didactic line and form from intent to perception.”
Every time this painting became about something, I said, “It’s not about that.” and I painted it out. Intent? Modern art is defined by intent. Each edition of our search has been about intent. The intent was to glorify God, to capture history and reality, then to portray the moment and the changing light, then to escape the portrayal of reality, then to use pure color to elicit emotion. Modern art is about the intent as stated by the artist. I seek to have no intent, to leave interpretation to the viewer. I seek to use shapes and lines that suggest but do not represent such that I may discover meaning myself without letting the paint decide as with drip painting. I want that feeling of not quite knowing from where this painting came. That, to me, adds the mystery of the subconscious, the mystical or the spiritual. Maybe the journey went from from painting for God to letting God paint the picture?
“I’d love to do an installation where Jade is rotated by a stepper motor in increments of 90 degrees on a timer or with a remote. It took an engineer to put a motor on a painting.
Children visit Artvilla. They come for our art lessons. We have rotated the painting for them.
78″ x 49″ Oil on Canvas.
To view Jade full screen, go to our new site https://modernartby.com/d-m-jackson/jade/
Here is another example of interpretive shapes without an up or down. Again unsigned.
Abstract in Black and Red, 22″ x 30″ Watercolor and marker on Arches, 1995
Here are some D M Jackson images, some of which date to 1998 or before, where orientation was determined by the artist after the painting was completed.. Names have been omitted because those shapes may represent something other than what you see. Naming abstract art is nearly impossible. The first need for a name is usually a file name. That is a suggestion of what the form is to the artist at the moment a name was required and is, often, given reluctantly. Every painting can’t be named, “What does it mean to you?”
D M Jackson…….9-16-2019….firstname.lastname@example.org
I will be an old man who lives nerby
who writes poems
and casts them at this thing
without a dream
art is a flower and a seed
if your flower is not seen
if no lover stops for a scent
if it’s only you and the bee,
the bee that stung
you with the will
to be the flower
be the flower
alone in the forest
plant the seed
plant the seed
….david michael jackson….6.29.19…year 21 of Artvilla
I am not clay
I am a fired pot
I cannot be molded
I can only be cherished,