Sunday, August 09, 2009

The Owl - Where is Feinin?


There you are*

Where I stand, I see you, where you stand you see nothing but a mirror. God, if you say you are him, show us how. Bring thee its gift, follow me to paradise. Schiller, now that you kiss his toe, knell and asked for glory. The temptation is over, Feinin is at rest. God knew the reason, he could either lie and end history. But he though, If it wishes, trust no one. Schiller is over. By mind, the power to dream....I divulge in you


Gulliver kept still, he clenched his chest. What just happen? God was inside of him. Then God managed to turned over the timepiece, but every object still remained intact. Gulliver looked up, then he looked down. The waters below bounce and danced. Closely, he saw the neck of a bottle. This he remembers was a time he knew of his future. Upon the ledge, he casts the glass capsule into the Caribbean seas.


The object bobbed, it bounced somewhere near a coast. Then it sat in sand bombarded by grains that flicked over its sides. Gulliver saw a dog, this to him looked like a golden retriever, he was restrained by a leash. His master walked gently, she kicked bits of wet sand in the air. The dog's nose smelled the surface of the object, it stood there for a few seconds. The master knew her pet had discovered history. The capsule contained a stained folded sheet of paper. But what did this mean? How could it be? Gulliver already read the magic scroll.

Where Gulliver stood is calculated far beyond our imagination. The place called earth is time measured by increments. He is nothing but matter. This surprised him, he tried to think more. God laughed, he taught him to trust no one until he was dead in his grave. Gulliver looked puzzled? Where was this place. The time piece marked 3pm

The Owl scooped by, he spun like a vortex making sounds and glowing lights. Gulliver held his arm out. The Owl clawed at him again. Stop writing, leave this time for greater feats

*
In study of Michelangelo, I found myself lost. At first, I felt a man who was somewhat, (soft in his manner), but then, I could not see or describe anything else but rather of an (overwhelming being) that completely merged with me. Somehow I knew, as it was someone I thought quite fondly of, a man who knows (what all this means to me), and why I am so restless, so unfulfilled, softly touching as I am lost in him.

Related to the fresco, the Creation: Moments after I completed this self study, I was compelled to take a bath. There, I washed and scrubbed my skin in vigorous motion as if I was polishing stone or to remove the cakes of sweat from a body weak and tired. This has relevancy. In this composition, it gave meaning to an artist who in his right mind was a pronounced omni-god, a genius beyond any description.

What I felt was a painter who exercised every part of his body, every muscle, every blood vessel to produce a mirage of the meaning of life, in its creation and its afterlife. I felt the presence of a man who uplifted the (world) and gave his benefactors the visions they wanted to see in a specular and glorious exaggeration.

In this creation, I felt as if (Man) was of the flesh, and at an age that stood still at twenty five. And that (God) was very much envious of his (beauty), so dainty, so longing and free. Yet, this is how Michelangelo saw the image of (God) as a reflection of himself.

No comments:

Disclaimer:

Views expressed on thebookmann are not affiliated with any Art Organizations and an “Art Review” may be open to interpretation as it is an observation at face value.

Amendments to such articles if misleading or with grammatical errors shall be corrected accordingly.

All photographs, Feinin studies, accompanying quotes, articles and visual headers appearing on site are the exclusive property of Richard Bolai © 2004 - 2010 All Rights Reserved.

Any fare use is restricted without written permission