Portrait of the Artist: Ian W.S

Conversation Piece

10 color silkscreen

Culmination

Woodcuts

Framed

There rests a girl with heaving sighs
Stretched upon the floor
Perhaps too rich…
Puzzling!
and yet we ask for more!
Dazzled in disbelief she dozes
Falling asleep to storms
Comforted by the kinship of clamorous clouds
Mirrors of her distress!
Ease her to a dream of unmitigated rest
Here she is free!
Drifting through a timeless sea!
Here she is powerful!
So soft, a soothing tone her speech
A lulling languid lullaby
Sung for each and each
Come o weary ones who wander witlessly
In all in everyone a treasure I do see
Forbear thy shame shake off thy fret
Ill wash away your worries yet
But stay yourself
And hear your heart
Which here
Resounds the only sound
Meter to thy mystery
Callously counting away
To this
Present thy self!
Proudly pronounce the syllables of thy given name!
And I’ll preserve thy memory forever
Within a softer frame
No more to supersede the art!
That she could carry on and on and on
Yet she too is going, going, gone…

Reflection

Billowing Smoke Begins the Trial

Robin

A robin with its child in the nest

Will sing to them its robin song

To keep them firmly at its breast

Proudly sings all the world is wrong

                                                  wrong

                                                       wrong

Dandelion

Dandelions die to spread the seed

To follow in thought and deed

A double beauty is revealed

A yellow star upon the field

Ancient grey shakes its last thoughts away

A brighter star for a later day

Myth

This parable of man

Though little that I am

Is written to rewrite

To return and bring thee to the light

A lady fair made black

I do not question what is clear

Mine own father was austere

Stranger waters still are rising

Wanton men are prophesizing

Saying Hear! Hear! Hear! To live, so live in fear!

Least ye hold thy destroyer dear

The tree that once had offered shade

Threatens, thought crooked and decayed

The cocoon rests beneath the leaf!

Was it from fear or from belief?

False suitors hath stolen thee away

To chase this new intenser day

The acorn may only grow the oak

Gods are of the golden yoke

Hath the wind too changed direction?

The rain no longer nurtures, but rather it does flood

Is it thy presence or thine absence?

And for thee my heart beats

Empty and Aching, Distraught within

Suffering hurt and pangs Superfluous perception dims

Discarded, The pursuit of what is greater begins!

Inwardly, Though pain and loss is what I feel

The bleak emotion is tamed by what is real

My heart upsurs! and the minds production steal!

For Love is All that’s left of me.

The only heart ill dote upon is that of thee

Regardless were that heart i ne'er to see

This beating organ this instrument of mine

Every steady melody of sound I dedicate to thine

I can only pray that with mine yours will seek to rhyme

I believe my own would cease to listen if e'er again ours were to meet

Its for thee that my heart was made I entreat

For from my single heart comes a double beat

Nay!

It pounds

As Dedalus and Icarus

Collapsing a sphinx lies undone

Blinded below a blazing sun

A grain of sand amidst a windless desert

Encompassed in the shadow of

An obelisk beside a chasm

Which wails as some dark phantasm

Why do we only live to die?

I shake perturbed with fire mounting!

Yet I know not the words to speak…

No! No longer shall I suffer thus

To sip from Lethe and gather dust

Musing of coals within the hearth

I found thee pushing through the earth

Again, Again our tryst each night

I wait to feel thy soft pale light

That fills me with unseen incense

A seed lifted by thy presence

Carried on the wind of airy thoughts

New wings fly to that I’ve n’er sought

Higher and far from which I’ve fled

I cross through the veil of the dead!

My old passion now recounting

Those two figures now surmounting

That creature crawls. Can this be wrong?

For time is short and art is long

That days dawn no more can be

We canst say

So much of that resides in me

We absolve our sin in this

To do as fabled Icarus

Dandelions in their motion

Will fly across a timeless ocean.

Oldies

Eagerly awaiting getting back to Purchase where i can get ahold of some lighting and continue with my portraits.
Sifting through pictures till then
These go pretty far back.

Black and White Through the Spring Semester

Photographs from weekly assignments over the spring semester.

Photo 1 Final

A series of 9 symbolic and allegorical portraits.

Final project for Photo 1 Freshmen year spring semester.
Shot entirely in black and white film with 35m Pentax k1000 and Rollieflex TLR cameras.

The photographer through their lens controls subjectively what is shown. Then too can we not have complete control over what is shown? Is this not what separates the photographic image as art rather than documentation?