Dream Photograph

This is like a dream I once had. Maybe it is the dream that waited for you to photograph it.

__
photo, Shadows in the Backyard, by Olli Kekäläinen.

                                          

Earth Angel

a massive earth angel, aloft,
sky swooping to earth


___
photo, Learning to Fly, by Olli Kekäläinen, one of my favourite photographers on Flickr

                                          

Stone #49

turned a corner to a spotlight pressed the voice memo and spoke of the startling light white in the close sky for blocks moon talking

nest of hair, of broken golden eggs

nest of hair, of broken golden eggs from Brenda Clews on Vimeo.

[Video shot entirely with my iPhone and edited on a subway with the iMovie app. With no training in film or photography, I guess and fret my way through, but surely Apple was aiming at folks like me with these gadgets and programs.]

What made me cut my hair in 1981?

It was time for a transformation, and it shocked people. I went from curly tresses to a near brush cut. I wanted to divest myself of that Farah Fawcett sex appeal look; I wanted to be a hermit. Perhaps I was a little crazy in those days. I was working on a thesis that was secretly about my visions, which of course no-one knew and which of course I didn't finish.

Perhaps a cat got into the basket and tumbled out with a golden egg. Afterward, it became a divine cat that glowed in the dark. I think maybe that happened to one of the cats over the years... Bastet, the ancient Egyptian feline goddess, hung around, yeah, for sure.

I've never showed anyone this nest before. Oh, my kids have seen it -and agreed that it's a bit weird, but that's it. I didn't want anyone to think me too strange. It's sat, covered and unnoticed on a bookshelf in all the places I've lived since making it, grad residence, a condo, a couple of houses, a couple of apartments, it's been across the country and back. At the time that I created it, I wasn't consciously thinking of divine things; in retrospect, though, I recall being immersed in that mythology, the divine conjunctio, and was good friends with a woman professor of English Lit who was studying to become a Jungian Analyst in Zurich. The Divine Conjunctio is quite a universal mythos, and so in my voiceover I read back into the nest of hair and golden eggs. Giving it a context it never had. Thirty years ago I thought of it as a magical ritual piece, and as conceptual art. Now I show the whole thing on-line! The cut lock had something to do with Isolde, but the version of the voiceover mentioning that was too long for the video.

[You do not see the sound wave in the iMovie app for the iPhone, so deleting the ums and ahs wasn't possible.]

A nest of your hair from three decades ago, it's certainly quite a memento. Something strange, and magical about it. I can see this image, these metaphors sparking the imagination; even in me, revealing this hidden basket evokes images, thought, wonderings. And perhaps the phoenix that emerges is the revealing itself, a video, a speaking, an uncovering of a fled spirit -for the remaining egg is cracked and broken, and the other has disappeared.

If I was better at filming, it would be interesting to make a poetic video with my HD Canon Vixia camcorder and Final Cut Express. Perhaps someday I'll give it a try.

__
The bits and pieces that compose this post came from my responses on a thread at my Facebook page (with thanks to Boris, Dave, Stirling, Kim and Bent).
With special thanks to Dave for a humourous and inspiring conversation at his Facebook site on his yearly haircut, a total head shave.

                                          

Stone #48

Fantasy matters.