|Present Sound, Silent Space by Rusty Kjarvik|
"The acorn can become an oak, and not a donkey!" (C.G. Jung)
"...that time when he let himself go and when he landed deep down in what he came to call the collective unconscious, all this rejected feminine in himself, confronted him."
- from Part 6 of "Matter of Heart" documentary on Carl Jung
As you may have noticed, I have copyrighted my digital art images. This week, "Mountain Reflection on Cyclical Wordplay" and "Present Sound, Silent Space" now published on my blog under Experimental Writing Gallery, have been selected for what is my first live art exhibition, alongside professional artists. The exhibition supports emerging immigrant artists like myself.
|"Mountain Reflection on Cyclical Wordplay" at Endeavor Gallery|
I have been contemplating selling my art prints here online, they are currently being printed as a limited edition (1 of 100) series on a photo canvas at 20" x 30" dimensions. If there is any interest, or any comments regarding this idea, please feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Thanks for reading SoJourn(al): Private Dreams to Public Art !
A co-musician friend meanders and strays with eager intention, playful, directly before me. I am defenseless. As he approaches, leaping over me, my body transforms into mountain stone. Hard-edged scree and hillocks crack and harden in a gross maze of cavernous earth rock. Self-created, I transform. I am the mountain. My hair blows mercilessly, mutating into the icy summit winds. I rumble and shake with tectonic might. Mountain goats find refuge in my side, opening into an open cave. My friend enters.
"When interpreting dreams with goats in them, consider the characteristics that we associate with these animals. We consider them to be sturdy and tenacious...Additionally, in pagan mythology goats are considered to be symbols of sexual vitality." (iDream)
passage in the name,
that subconscious wandering
that pierces through life, a remembrance
that deceived unity into a grandiose measure
foraging beneath the earth for emergent corpses, dusty in pain
- excerpt from "Inspired by 'the Reading'"