17th Entry, July 24th 2008, 4th Installment "To Move a Bloom"
only something in me understands the voice of your eyes
is deeper than all roses
not even the rain,
has such small hands"
- caption from EE Cummings' poem "Somewhere I have never travelled" as outlined in the 1st installment of this series, see entries 14 through 16 for more information
In a place within the single nature of all things, where the wants and needs of that thing meet, love sometimes appears washing the zenith. Love is both a want and a need in and of itself but it is beyond those things as well. I see it as the catalyst that makes one aware of itself peaking the senses and priming the soul. Eyes dilate, breathing increases, heart rate elevates, habits and appetites alter as if subconscious and a small curious ache appears; logical or not it is none the less quite real.
In the caption above the idea of not even the rain having small hands stood out like a pin prick of light in a dark black room to me when I first read the poem over a decade ago. EE Cummings also included images of snow to a flower and it's effect - these two ideas I wanted to add into the piece as a passive but powerful statement. Sometimes a person only need whisper and the right mountains are moved.
My collectors and fans, readers of this blog already know that I add images hidden into the piece as my way of rewarding those who really look. If a person is interested in a work of mine I want to keep them entertained while maintaining the integrity of that piece's statement and idea. Hands would be a perfect opportunity to do this - a visual quiet tone of promise made without saying a word. Like the state of love is a promise.
No hands could open a bloom, that had been established. The bloom will open if the environment is right - that is a fact of simple nature. The bloom itself as a symbol of us as humans in our vulnerability, a request of love not to harm and to see. The hands then would be there to answer that request and promise, to hold and cherish, to respect in spite of imperfect understanding. And how imperfect would it be for a hand to look at something? Well, hands do not have eyes to see they rely on something else. Hands need to literally feel in order to define, and can do so in an amazingly accurate fashion. As love also needs to feel it's appropriate definition between the two experiencing it.
The idea then came together. The ego and id, want and need, a symbol of that admirer's position - two sets of hands. In compliment to that the idea of a fading snow, they should be outlined and not solid, defined and a presence but not overpowering to human bloom. The piece then began to enter it's early adolescent phase, adding to my inspiration was the song "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain. If you aren't familiar you can listen to it here and use your web browser to come back:
Hands to hold and caress such a vulnerability. A promise without words made in response to a wordless request but as solid and tangible as hands and roses.
These then would be half hidden behind yet another image but that's another entry.
thank you for reading