Swan Song to fly from Childhood

In Childhood we hear stories that affect our lives and how we grow to adulthood.  This tale, The Ugly Duckling, from The Brothers Grimm was a favorite.  I did not realize that I was identifying with this cygnet, and how true its story would resemble my own life, and the need to break the mold of what I was supposed to be, according to the norms of society,  as to who, and what I am.  A poem of tribute follows.

Duckling

July 15, 2015

Gouache 12 x 16

Duckling

Felt ugly did I

They said so

some blunt, commanding

many

with looks and sighs, too polite

in pretense of civility that I

did not fit

in the landscape

nursed on Jim Crow milk spiked

 with Johns,  Calvin and Wesley

parsimonious with kindness

cursed from birth by a loving god

(He slyly bargained a deal)

Bordering the green or fallow fields

of the farms, of the town

is the forest, the  mysterious forest

where creatures, not human, live

(far away you are told

 is the fright of cities

where they flock)    

inherited lies of the good news

to be reaped at death

it has taken those who have gone before

weighted down with rocks carved with their names

silently waiting for the return

of the ancient godly one

off to heaven

off to war

off to work

off to the store

voices, looks

 sound the malaise

you are ugly

your words cannot chant their song

cannot dance to their rituals

though you try and try

and try

you are ugly

lost among others, like you

with arms and legs and eyes and mouth

hearts

 and minds

some minds

have stopped thinking

stopped questioning

while yours spins and flies

a circling bird

looking for the coveted

source

someday

you will be a pretty bird

flying free

flocking  with others

the good citizens of the world

all the same flock

a rainbow of colors

of wing shapes

beaks that sing different songs

eat different foods

whole as one

together

you will fly

all free

in the sky

and nest on land

in trees and forests

mountains and prairies

soar into and above the sea

free birds

all of you

flocking

in one habitat

one parent

one planet

home

J. Frase-White

With thanks to the Brothers Grimm and one special cygnet

15 July 2015

Lotus, the flower of wisdom, the radiance of compassion

In the decades I have worked in glass, I had not done one specifically for my partner, Chuck.  I had made windows for our homes, which first ignited my interest in doing stained glass.  I have produced several water lily themed windows for other patrons and friends.  When he suggested doing another, to aid in his meditation, I was unsure of how to approach the subject. Working with various designs, multiple sketches and several prototypes in clear glass, it evolved into this, now hanging in our study, inspired by Buddhist and other spiritual resources. The colors all represent aspiration: the red of wisdom radiating the white light of compassion, bonded to the growing green of earth, and the deep blue of spirituality over materialism.

Lotus the Light of Heaven and Earth

(for Chuck)

22 x 39

When doing a window, working from sketch, to choosing glass, to cutting, assembly, there are always moments of uncertainty (& always the one where the work looks horrible).  I was in for a surprise we hung the window and the inner circle behind the white rays emanating from the lotus, which I had chosen for the dense white color, radiated a green light (from outside it appears as the white I had chosen).  Here is a photo of the window, in the final stages of assembly as it looked on my work table.  Part of the enchantment of working in this medium is the wonder that happens as light filters, glistens or glares, through the panels of glass.

Runcible spoon, a monkey and two redefined nudes

This first new paperwork, Monkeyboy, was born while sketching some ideas for a work inspired by Lear's The Owl and Pussycat for an upcoming show at Northeast Kingdom Artisans Guild.  I found myself fixating on the runcible spoon, while on the radio I overheard a man talking about eating the brains of a living monkey. I was also meditating the life of a child I have watched grow to adulthood, and his mother, who raised him manipulating, him, as did her mother, confusing love with power, dining on an elixir of repression and unimagined dreams. He is at death's door, like Hansel, fattened by the witch, his only reward is the promise of eternal life in the magic kingdom of God.

Monkey Boy, or

"My darling Monkeyboy, you're just so sweet, I could eat you all up."

11 x 14 x 1.5

Cardstock, enameled paper, tin foil, rice paper

"Daddy long-leg, 1972". Going through a pile of old works, I came upon two nude drawings I'd done when I lived on Hemenway Street in Boston, in my first solo apartment in that city.  I reframed the male, retitling it, after noticing a slight anatomical miscalculation, revealing my lack of formal, disciplined training.

Male Nude 

10 x 12

Pencil

"Nana's Pimple," another nude, also with peculiar anatomy,wearing fishnet stockings is a version of a woman I'd been enamored of way back in Baltimore.Removing the drawing from it's acidic mat I began playing with the drawing keeping the yellowed paper as the border of the polygon design, giving her a bold new setting, maybe with a little elegance to enhance the weird fondness I have for the drawing, and for lovely Joan R.

Nana's Pimple 1972-2015

10 x 8 x 1.5

Pencil Drawing, Cardstock, foam board, Rice paper

you can also see more of my work at my website: www.frasewhitepaperglass.com