And her hair is wound in mine,
She has the form of my hands,
She has the color of my eyes,
She is swallowed by my shadow
Like a stone against the sky."
– The Beloved, Paul Eluard, co-founder of the surrealist movement
Oh, Paul. How romantic you must’ve been. When you fell for the charming bewitching Gala you fell into her web ever so deeply. And later, when you were disillusioned by the loss of your love to painter Salvador Dali, you left the surrealist movement and aligned with a Stalin- esque philosophy. Melancholy aside, you were instrumental in spreading the word. Surrealism as movement or as a revolutionary way of viewing the world through the artist’s eye flourished during your time. Sure there were others like Andre Breton and Louis Aragon, but you, you were a romantic fellow, tortured but inspired by the gaze of a beautiful muse. And I can appreciate that. The fantasy leaves one suspended in a state of wonder. I could spend my entire life there except at some point I may need to come up for air.
So breathe.
Surrealism week continues with a collection of modern day surrealists:
Cynthia Tom
Finding your Voice
The reluctance to reveal is tempered with defiance.
Conscious contact with the ground
I often dream of black and white checkered floors in vast long halls with the pattern repeating. This one resonates. It’s my favorite here.
Pauline Jones
Dream Parking Spot
Ah.. the human inclination toward incubation
Noriko Ohashi
Three Sisters
Here is the connection, now find your way out of it. Separation is never easy.
Poseidon
Slipping from his wet hands…
LLUIS
Don’t Mess with the Dead
Death.. that old ball n’ chain, can’t quite escape now can we
Dina Lenkovic
The Burning City
morbid truth disguised as art
5 comments:
Those are some cool pictures. I really like the Death one.
Yes, aren't they fun? I have to avoid going into art stores, I always leave with a lot less money in my pocket then when I walked in. Art, Art, Art- YAY!
v. cool, thanks for sharing
"Conscious Contact" reminds me of a dream I had - I was in a boat, and I was moving through the house I grew up in, only just the walls of the rooms were there and they were kind of blended into the stream and the banks and trees on either side. I'd forgotten all about it until I saw your post.
Pf: Was that dream before or after your parent's house flooded? I remember your post about that some time ago. A little arm chair psychology for ya...houses in dreams supposedly coincide with ourselves, or our bodies.. ya know the whole "body as a temple" concept. I'm a big believer in not applying mass generalization to dreams as usually the dreamer is the only one who can decode the dream. But, in the dream work I've done with myself and others, the house metaphor seems to ring true. Interesting stuff.. the unconscious mind...
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