Week 12- 03.23

Here we revisited Getrude Stein’s poems and tried to unpack them again.

Proust’s depiction of latent image, its elusiveness, seems a fit description of Stein’s  disperse objects

Undoubtedly what is thus palpitating in the depths of my being must be the image, the visual memory which, being linked to that taste, is trying to follow it into my conscious mind. But its struggles are too far off, too confused and chaotic; scarcely can I perceive the neutral glow into which the elusive whirling medley of stirred-up colours is fused, and I cannot distinguish its form (…)

Stein’s objects exist in that same incomplete state. But in her, this is not the result of a frustrated effort but of her awareness of the complexity of our everyday experiences. Objects are the junction in time of a multitude of experiences, memories and  feelings.

Below are our attempt to the depiction of “home” using this principle

37 thoughts on “Week 12- 03.23”

  1. Rust red with a hint of forest green
    Lilac in the spring, grass in the summer, pine in the fall, smoke and snow in the winter
    Comfort, adventure and relaxation
    Catching butterflies in the sunshine
    Shoveling snow in the driveway
    Raking leaves in the backyard
    Calm

    Reply

  2. Here’s my poem:

    An iridescent orange glow
    Fresh air mingling with the sharp aroma of spices
    laughter
    The movement of bodies passing by and passing through

    Reply

  6. Enclosed and embryonic
    “There is no second sight”
    Walled up; Tripped up;
    Harden ablaze.
    You have further to fall and longer to walk.

    Cement Crusted
    Cringed Cracks
    Through time figurated
    light
    Shatters through.
    Comfort lingers
    If you dare to seek.

    Reply

  7. Home

    Settled, soft, patterned purple. Streams of light linger only temporarily. Humming quiet across cold squares. Neat placement of beauty. Full mugs spill laughter and stillness collects in corners. Warm cinnamon.

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  8. Home:
    Gentle yellows and blues.
    Sweet and savoury smells from the warm oven.
    A crisp breeze blowing through the window.
    Warm soft lights.
    Safe and secure.
    Soft and cozy.
    Footsteps of those above.
    Serenity.

    Reply

  9. Turquoise blue ground to dust
    Gaping mouth asunder
    Ragged teeth bearing wide
    Creaky wood cradling dust
    Dust to the wind
    Below bloated moons light

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  10. blue, grey and dirty yellow
    wet, mold and fried food
    disgust, anxiety, calm and relief
    wet dog in a car, climbing a tree
    pebbles and dust in the spring

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  13. A dim light from the corner,
    shining through the chaotic space,
    the warmth brings a sense of calm and joy,
    like the floating cloud in the ceiling

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  14. Leather of nature,
    Pull blades until they squeak,
    Brush past brush,
    Prick and blood,
    Stop,
    Breathe,
    Fur is the softest to the touch.

    Reply

    1. it’ll be just like these photographs if one transforms his poetry into visual images… I love your images so much.

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    1. beautiful images described such feelings like ‘confusion’ ‘never feeling quite right, yet still looking for perfection’ and ‘coexistence of fantasy and reality’ in home(family)

      Reply

  18. “HOME”
    A light, a roof and a soft bed.
    With a light, no longer afraid of dark
    With a roof, not afraid of wind and rain
    With a bed, there is a beautiful dream.

    Reply

    1. I always love your colour describtion in your photographs. I feel so warm that I almost would want to touch these objects in your photos.

      Reply

    1. I love the darkness in the images, it really relates that dark mysterious feeling from your poem about home.

      Reply

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