2016 - 2017
In 2016 I became intrigued with Klecksography, the 19th century art of making images from inkblots. I experimented with the technique by dropping acrylic ink onto watercolour art-board. Although my inkblots were not mirror-images like the original Klecksographs, I watched with delight as faces and figures began to appear as the ink dried. Using pen and ink, I developed the images that emerged and eventually dubbed these whimsical creations, the 'INKspirations'.
(acrylic ink and pen on 9 x 12 inch artboard)
There are many paths that lead to the heart
Sometimes we don't even know where they start
But wherever they wind there are things we do know
Like the adage we've heard that you reap what you sow.
It's because he listened to what 'they' said
Now he hears from his heart and leads with his love
So the hole in his head shines light from above
we the people
this silly game seems so unfair
that's true unless you drop the veil
remembering from whence you hail
then you'll recall just who you are
almighty ones from ancient stars
and reclaim what is rightly yours
so hearts can lift and spirits soar
Just like birds of a feather
No matter what the weather
To each other we are tethered
The veil is thin and Ghosts delight
New moon rises on this night too
What a cauldron of magic stew
The weird and weirder venture out
It's quite a show without a doubt
So be eccentric don't be shy
Just let your special freak flag fly
I lived again with them this time.
Alas, I had to leave them much too soon.
The storyteller plays a role
Of great importance for our soul
Recounting tales about our past
The timeless things that truly last
Those threads that bind our common fate
Give comfort when we can relate
To others who have gone before
So Storyteller spin your lore
No wooden hearts for me
The one who wins the gold
Will hold a vision bright and bold
But the gold of which I speak
Is not the dollar strong or weak
It's the riches banked within
That will be the prize we win
So I sat in my chair to contemplate
Wondering out loud to no one there
Why oh why is there such despair?
So I picked up my paint, my pen and ink
And drew a guy who made me blink
There on his neck was a sign from above
You are the divine so speak with love.
when you don't have a lot
is the most precious gift
So just give what you got
You can lend a kind hand
Or sing songs from your heart
When you offer your love
It's the best place to start
Humpty Dumpty has returned
I hope that this time he has learned
There is no need to fight or fall
If he joins Peace up on the wall
Why elephants remember what they do.
Maybe they hold the records for us all.
Even records of our grace before the fall.
What if we didn't keep time?
Would we move to the beat of our own inner drum?
Would life be more sublime?
These are the questions they asked
In the Temple of Chronos one day
So the Timekeepers woke and then they spoke
It was time to have their say
That is stronger than fear
Which is why we protect
Those we hold oh so dear
Thank goodness for that
And the grace that it brings
When we focus on them
Instead of grim things
But let us remember
We're all one with a name
And that force which is love
Sees the whole world the same
This panacea for our soul
Was how we used to roll
We played and swayed around the tribal fires
We sang and rang the bell of pure desires
Forgetting all our woes we chose
To dance upon the earth with mirth
So come let's resurrect those ways
Or reinvent those merrymaking days
We'll bury all the boring strife
And excavate our wild joy for life
• • • • • • • •
The Inkblot Adventures of 2016
acrylic ink and pen, on paper
Do they chase you round, and make you feel:
angry, sad or downright bad?
Pain is lack
To the gap
To the space between your thoughts.
You prolly know what you should do
Take off your boots
Unhook your chain
And look at things
Like a child again