Jackson Pollock - Retro at MOMA

I took a trip to the MOMA on this damp grey December day.  They have a Pollock retrospective that I've wanted to see since November. What amazing work!! I've had a bit of a soft spot for this particular artist for quite some time now and every time I think that reverie will finally subside...I have a moment/an encounter with his work. I looked over his earlier work, it's decent and well worth a look-see but when his work started changing to the drip technique, that's when the music started to come out in his work.  I stood in front of the larger pieces and took it in as a whole piece and then took it in section by section.  His pieces surprise me.  There is a moment when the black and white paint blossom together but keep the edges too.  There is a moment when a red streak is intersected with a black stripe it's hard to describe how my skin tingles and the goosebumps i get because I am looking at genius work.  It's painting in pure form and that's what I LOVE about it.  I looked for an image to put on with this  entry but really his work can't be experienced in miniature form...it needs to be seen in actual scale to take it in fully. I get that his work isn't for everyone.  But all you have to do is really look at the large scale piece and let the crowds melt into the background and open your being to understand how connected Pollock was to the flow of Life/ to the Universe. His work reminds me to keep going, to continue to write in hopes of getting the work in a better place.  I am inspired.  


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2015 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Scavengers and Saints

Puzzle pieces scattered across a table.
Who cares if we don't eat. Better to put
it together than to quell our hunger.
One look at you, my heart flutters
with a lost song. Don't call it love.
Love tastes like ashes against
my tongue. Listening to the chorus
I remember you from before.
I wish the feeling of missing you
wasn't so strong. It's an aural illusion.
The train rumbles over Manhattan bridge
the building lights we pass remind me
of lives being lived behind closed doors alone.
You travel away and I want to whisper words
in your ear tonight. Be well. Do not seek danger.
Remember me when you are alone.
Don't forget to send me a word. Just one.
Softly. And smile. It always reaches me,
fills me up to my head, makes my scalp tingle,
I feel full of you in the dark. I keep writing
to you on my skin. There are lines that connect us.
Can you read them or should I write louder?
The damage is done, you are thin-razor marks
etched onto me.  It hardly hurts. You are a muse
or a grey dove expecting seeds from my hand.
We all want answers. I've wrapped myself
around you and you've hardly noticed. Who cares,
after all, they are only feelings falling off a tree.
You will never take a bite off the fruit. You'll lose
a tooth if you dare. You cover your heart for good
measure. Don't worry I won't hurt you, much.
A woman carries purple orchids. A flower dying
on the vine in cold water. You know I'm a predator
but you don't mind being devoured. When the walls
are quiet you imagine me moaning on top of you.
How well you know me before we've even met naked.
I hold you in my mind as I walk on this cold night.
I am contracting. I want only what you are willing
to offer freely. This lonesome feeling will only last
as long as the season. When you are ready
to share your despair, remember me fondly.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2015 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Musings

Someone asked me recently, "What's it all for?"  He was talking about the larger narrative.  About life.  About being human in this world.  What kind of answer could I have mustered to satisfy that question? I looked at the bottom of my whiskey glass for a reply.  My hands flitted around like lost birds trying to catch an answer.  But really, how the heck should I know?  I'm trying to figure this out for myself too. I am trying to figure out how to fit time for my writing and creative endeavors while holding down a full time job with all it's machinations and office politics while also dealing with my crazy family.  My hands give me away as I clasp on tightly to my calm exterior, the cracks are showing on the thin veneer. I am trying to create quiet spaces for myself so I can watch the sunrise or sunset, trying to remember to breathe deeply. Feeling it when love surrounds me but also feeling the edges of a lonely soul. Aching to be closer to the ideal life, whatever that might look like. I crave a quietness that stems from the soul.  Someone that's satisfied with who I am in this moment, instead of always feeling like I'm falling short from being a better person.  There is so much to be done and we are wasting time not doing much.  I am cat-sitting in Chelsea, keeping Otis and Tessa stocked up on munchies, water and catnip. Nice space with mewling kitties in the background. Must run, working on some poetry.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2015 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.