(via oaluz)
Mark Rothko, No. 1 (Untitled),1948
oil on canvas, 8′ 10 3/8″x9′ 9 1/4″
© 1998 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko/Artists Rights Society (ARS)
At the macro level, the mother wound is a matrilineal wound—a burden that manifests in mothers, and is passed on from generation to generation. It’s the pain and grief that grow in a woman as she tries to explore and understand her power and potential in a society that doesn’t make room for either, forcing her to internalize the dysfunctional coping mechanisms learned by previous generations of women. The mother wound reflects the challenges a woman faces as she goes through transformations in her life in a society where the patriarchy has denied us ongoing matrilineal knowledge and structures.
- Dr. Oscar Serrallach
Bernard Frize (French, b. 1954), Vervaz, 2009. Acrylic and resin on canvas, 146 x 114.5 cm.
It’s hitting again, need to get it out and let it. I want to be SEEN, like a toroidal gutting, innards everywhere and turning forever in the wash of eyes, ears, mouths and hearts. Hands are good for certain places, times and much honouring there too. I am careful about the hands.
I am staying in my Pisces. I am defending the angels of listening. I am spray for the others to make wash of themselves, and sitting here from the pool of me wondering and feeling everyone’s dirt and shine. Revere me in the ways that I will always revere you, even and always for your absolute nonsense neurosis and diamonds cutting through to the truth. Always always it happens for you and you and me. It’s all up to you and it’s not up to you.
Love me for the inside of my brain! For the way my heart extends through all of time and space and carries songs, imprints, matchings, wisdom unspeakable. Love me for the emptiness. Love me for the darkness inside my body before you if you get to see it. Love me that my neck is tender with sounds and words I never gave privy. Love me for showing you all that you are with no consequences.
If you hold me, wow, I will dance until the cows come home. I am not afraid to want to be held. I am not afraid of the boys club anymore. I am soft and I will hurt you if you ask. It only takes eyes. For you, it takes machines. Who’s winning now.
recent entries in my visual diary, specific dedications and love to my dear friend @nire-sille
Such shit photos
Billy Al Bengston (American, b. 1934), Venus, 2008. Metallic ink on paper, 24.1 x 19.1 cm.