A reminder: I am laying out the ‘reasoning’ or ‘data points’ for a particular trajectory of images that may, for now, best be summed by their obscurity. These first few, ‘Never Any Clouds’ posts are a sort of preamble.

Mendocinao Botanical Gardens, CA. 1986

 

Mendocino Botanical Gardens, CA. 1986
palladium-platinum print from 8 x 10 inch negative

Three Seeds - from series, 'Memory, Balance, Love' 1988

 

Three Seeds, Lake District, England. (from series, ‘Memory, Balance, Love’) October, 1988
Palladium-platinum print from 8×10 inch negative

Two quotes, that have shimmered around in me for years, then some images about what is obscured from us by being seen…

George Mackay Brown, the Orcadian poet and author:

“There, you shake another cloud from you, and another, in your great haste this windy night to finish your business, whatever it is.” From Vinland

And Ana Hatherly, from one of her ‘Tisanes’ (published in The Lost Origins of the Essay, ed. John D’Agata):

“Once upon a time there was a landscape where there were never any clouds.
To make rain it was necessary to wash the horizon with feathers.”

This line of thinking, the one about what becomes obscured by being seen, only became apparent many years after I began to see it…. and I think it began here:

George Mackay Brown, Foss, Perthshire. 1985

 

George Mackay Brown, Foss, Perthshire. 1985
palladium-platinum print from 8×10 negative

Sunspot, Water, Banana Leaves and Utensils in Kitchen. Bois Joli

 

Sunspot, Water, Banana Leaves and Utensils in Kitchen. Bois Jolie, Haiti. July, 2014.

The late and great Palestinian poet, Taha Muhammed Ali, from So What: new and selected poems, 1971-2005 (Coper Canyon Press, 2006):

Where

 

Poetry hides

somewhere

behind the night of words

behind the cloud of hearing,

across the dark of sight,

and beyond the dusk of music

that’s hidden and revealed.

But where is it concealed?

And how could I

possibly know

when I am

barely able,

by the light of day,

to find my pencil?

 

10.X.2004

… and Agnes Martin, from Beauty Is the Mystery of Life, in Agnes Martin: Writings (Cantz, 1992):

When I think of art, I think of beauty. Beauty is the mystery of life. It is not in the eye, it is in the mind. In our minds there is awareness of perfection.

We respond to beauty with emotion. Beauty speaks a message to us. We are confused about this message because of distractions.

 

(and to that question, if you could meet and spend time with anyone, who… I’d love to have coffee with Taha Muhammed Ali, and walk, and do nothing, with Agnes Martin)

Dining table, Earthquake damaged residence. Port Au Prince, Hait

 

Dining table, Earthquake damaged residence. Port Au Prince, Haiti. December, 2010

I think of this:

“It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one.”
― M.F.K. Fisher, The Art of Eating

and of Gaston Bachelard, who in the Poetics of Space, asserted that intimacy may be both the prime motivator for our creative urge, and the most profound characteristic of our experiential realm.

Kitchen, near Bois Jolie, Haiti. January, 2013.

 

Kitchen, near Bois Jolie, Haiti. January, 2013.

Kitchen, Bois Jolie, Centre Region, Haiti. July, 2014.

 

Kitchen, Bois Jolie, Centre Region, Haiti. July, 2014.

Kitchen fire. Bois Jolie, Centre Region, Haiti. July, 2014.

 

Kitchen fire. Bois Jolie, Centre Region, Haiti. July, 2014.

Madame Josephine Exana's kitchen table. Bois Jolie, Centre Regio

 

Madame Josephine Exana’s kitchen table. Bois Jolie, Centre Region, Haiti. May, 2014.

Child's Seat in Kitchen. Near Blanchard, Haiti. May, 2014.

 

Child’s Seat in Kitchen. Near Blanchard, Haiti. May, 2014.