Wednesday, 12 January 2011

the quiet, slow and steady distortion of memory

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The broken mirror will not again reflect;
Fallen flowers will hardly rise up to the branch.

from Zenrinkushu (1429-1504)






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31 comments:

  1. Unknown12 January 2011 at 01:09

    Masterful, beautiful.

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  2. Adelino Marques12 January 2011 at 01:37

    Olá Roxana...como gosto destas "distorções"...gosto mesmo muito!!!
    Escrevo-te em Português para treinares :)

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  3. trebor12 January 2011 at 03:41

    you must have found me tears.

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  4. mythopolis12 January 2011 at 05:26

    These are such wonderful and hypnotic images! Memory can get to be quite a fiction. We recall it the way we need to. We even see ourselves walking about in memories. So, clearly, we pick up pieces of the past and make them into a movie that suits us. And we are are the star! I had a memory of going shopping. I saw myself walking through automatic doors and looking at vegetables. That is not a memory. It is a movie of my memory. We remember things in ways that give us some sense of continuity in a chaotic world. Most memory seems personal. fiction, to me. Thanks for this provocative post.

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  5. Owen12 January 2011 at 07:02

    Roxana... you distort time and space and memory for us in the most intensely wonderful of ways... we have no choice but to allow ourselves to fall from the bridge, swooping like dark angels into the void, swallowing images with our eyes which come flashing in all their splendor out of the dark, only to recede again as we soar ever further into the night...

    I wonder though, will you ever show us the way back, or will you leave us floating out here in these realms of wonder ? It's ok, I'm not sure I would want to go back, to return to life before the Bridge... and the quiet, slow, steady distortion picks of speed as time goes by...
    :-)

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  6. Lynne with an e12 January 2011 at 08:55

    I am trying to say something but the words will not

    These pictures have the textures, tracings and nuances of finely embellished silks and velvets for me. Treasures.

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  7. Unknown12 January 2011 at 09:07

    foarte frumos!

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  8. Anonymous12 January 2011 at 12:04

    these pictures are absolutely stunning, mythical, like cave paintings, the past brought to the surface.."no heart is as whole as a broken heart" and:

    "When memory is of the future
    then we may speak of fear and sharpening
    and of love too more than of the fallen fruit
    of the form that is calling and to that lovely form"

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  9. billoo12 January 2011 at 13:14

    If one could fall in love with a photograph, a reflection (Thoba!) then I think it would be these ones here, right now, like this.

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  10. Dianne12 January 2011 at 17:00

    This is so sad for me.
    Your images are so introspective.
    The poem touches the transition my marraige is approaching as we reexamine ourselves.

    Be well, and move through those memory veils.

    Dianne

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  11. Prospero12 January 2011 at 18:07

    dearest, i am envassalled by your deleterious mischief of memory.

    (notā bene: dearest, a honey-sweet term of endearment designed to envassal the unfeeling) ("Ha," she says. )

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  12. Stickup Artist12 January 2011 at 18:58

    I feel I'm looking at molecules, tiny spinning galaxies beneath our capacity of normal vision. What memories do they hold? Memory, is indeed fluid, moving, and changeable. Receding in and out of the shadows with only occasional flash of light. I almost expect to see these images start to move!

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  13. Lydia13 January 2011 at 11:02

    I am filled by this and its wonderful power to describe the emotions here in the U.S. during/after the Tucson shooting victims' memorial service on Wednesday, and in anticipation of the funeral for young Christina Green on Thursday.

    You birthday greeting image also filled me, but with mystified happiness and I have installed it at the bottom of my blog. Thank you thank you thank you! xoxo

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  14. Renée13 January 2011 at 21:26

    welch eindrucksvolle Bilder und welch eindrucksvolle Worte, die nachdenklich machen. Ich liebe natürlich besonders das erste Bild, das nicht verzerrte, das klare und das reine...
    Vielleicht, wenn man sich nicht so an die Vergangenheit festklammert, wird sie auch nicht entstellt. Man lässt sie einfach wie sie ist, nimmt sie wahr, aber verherrlicht sie nicht... Ajahn Sumedho sagte in einer seiner Lehrreden: "Don't be the slave of your past..."
    Ich habe Deine Bilder wohl am Anfang nicht gut verstanden, da ich die darstellende Kunst leider oft nicht verstehe, aber ja, ich schätze Deine Bilder sehr, und, wenn Dich das ehrt, liebste Roxana, ehrt es mich auch!
    Du weisst noch das, was ich sagte, als wir uns kennengelernt haben?? Du hast mir zugehört!!
    Dafür (und auch sonst) umarme und drücke ich Dich ganz fest!
    Eine ruhige gute Nacht wünsche ich Dir!
    Renée

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  15. jeff13 January 2011 at 21:43

    Impressionist poetic ! Waow ! ça en jette ! Ces photos sont comme de l'illustration ! Elles me font penser ( pour moi of course !...:)...) à de l'écriture à l'encre de chine comme on en trouve dans la bande dessinée ou dans les Estampes japonaises...
    Tu offres là du Grand Art ! Jamais image ne s'est métamorphosée en graphisme de cette sorte !
    Dis-moi, existes-tu vraiment Roxana ?...(:[

    Je devine derrière toutes ces photographies l'exquise poésie que tu sembles être et suis chaque jour qui passe un peu plus triste...(:[... de ne pas connaître le souffle chaud du Pont Flottant des Rêves !... soupir...

    Bises...(:|

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  16. Ofelia Gasque Andrés14 January 2011 at 14:09

    Hello dear Roxana,
    in the world of dreams you appear to me absolutly real.
    Now I open my eyes and I say to you thanks to your eyes.
    Mil besos***

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  17. Vladimir C.14 January 2011 at 18:06

    M-am intors. La mine, mai timid, la tine parca gasesc un vis pe care l-am avut candva.

    I really saw something like this in one of my dreams once. It’s wonderful when you see that someone catches your dream.

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  18. crederae15 January 2011 at 03:24

    Bonjour magnifique, tellement gentille Roxana.

    WEll it is wonderful to return to the bridge and to find myself discovering two more masterpeices.You have spoiled me so much Roxana!You know I just come here expecting masterpeices and there they are waiting to be cultivated in the garden of my mind leaving memory traces of splendour.

    I think I'll divide up my comments. I'll be back in a couple of snow kisses.

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  19. crederae15 January 2011 at 03:40

    These images are masterpeices of the soul because the darkness of the images are not the natural abscence of the sun light of nature, not the natural darkness of night but yes it must be the darkness of the soul that distorts the memory.

    and yet I have often considered how we rewrite memories to glorify the past, where there may not be any glory.
    So why then, is the distortion so dark.
    WEll perhaps my interpretation of the dream today is that the darkness may lie in the deepest recesses of the soul where the ego and illusions and delusions distort which may be considered the truth of the memory.

    But, there is so much beauty in this darkness that this interpretation must express something beautiful and so I am thinking of the imperious self the uniqueness of creation that reigns over this territory that does not allow trespassing-whether we ride into the darkness or the light we are the sole{soul riders} riders.
    see you in a couple of snow kisses

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  20. crederae15 January 2011 at 03:48

    and here is a little verse for the floating bridge of dreama that I wrote about my experience of getting up too early on a winter morning. It makes you want to stay indoors brrrrrr. It is -40 here Roxana I am sure.
    Actually I will just give you part of the poem. but your last post and this one inspired me so intensely that I have to respond with my own verse.

    Your magnificent photo story of the previous post-what a masterpeice-the moon's icy gaze you showed us and the white icy look of the table where our snow dreams are served- so I can see a wrapping together a white rap of the two posts.
    see you in a couple of snow kisses*

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  21. crederae15 January 2011 at 03:59

    and for me my verse straddles the two posts!
    well part of it.
    thankyou again Roxana for your powerful inspiration

    ..in the early morning cold stillness
    when most of the world seems to be asleep
    and my soul is stretched across the glittering frozen snow fields
    naked and exposed like the snowfield unrevealing in its frozeness
    the only lines I write are with the white fleeting flakes
    across my body canvas and orientated at the substellar point
    the crescent moon was dreamlike
    like something you could hook a fairytale onto
    and the pine tree covered with cold snow stillness
    seemed to bow reverentially to myself like a seasonal valet and the snowcovered landscape and the endless deep blue luminosity of the sky
    and I felt like a monarch from a fairy tale written long ago
    frozen in time and space
    not daring to think about the future nor the past because any kind of thinking at all would be an ice breaker.....

    merci roxana for the beautiful visit
    see you soon
    sending some more snow kisses your way

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  22. Michael Rowland15 January 2011 at 04:33

    Your imagination has created a world of mystery,,,M

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  23. Ffflaneur15 January 2011 at 13:54

    The broken mirror will not again reflect;
    Fallen flowers will hardly rise up to the branch.

    but these photos do reassemble memory's reflective fragments

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  24. Marc.15 January 2011 at 16:40

    Salut Roxana ce mai faci?

    Esta série é muito boa!!!

    O singură limbă nu ajunge niciodată!!!

    Le portugais n'est pas une langue specialement difficile tu verras!

    Love Marc.

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  25. crederae15 January 2011 at 20:32

    Bonjour chère magnifique Roxana, well you know one visit is never enough after you have posted -I always have lingering thoughts to cultivate.

    Ofcourse some memories are cut off altogether because of painful lacerations that it causes to the system but that is not what this post is about this is the quiet slow and steady distortion of memory.

    You Know I have always considered that in our educational systems there should not be boundaries between subject matters because the boundaries are superficial and interfere with learning.

    For example oh Roxana I can so see your beautiful masterpeice illustrations in a book on psychology where the viewer would actually feel what he is viewing through your art that is so sensitive to psychology and philosophy and fine art.

    Have a beautiful magical day my friend.
    love and light and hugs
    MERCI

    have a beautiful magical day.
    hugs
    Madeleine

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  26. James Owens15 January 2011 at 20:48

    haunted ... in the last hour of the night, the sleeping dove forgets that she is not you, the restless doe remembers that she was you, in the real world ... this lingers, your breath on the mirror, and the reflections stir in dreams ...

    a wonder!!

    like nothing else ....

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  27. crederae15 January 2011 at 21:12

    This comment has been removed by the author.

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  28. Roxana16 January 2011 at 01:08

    thank you, dear ones, for the incredible warm and rich and intense response to my floating memories... i don't know how to tell you how grateful i am.
    i am sorry for not being able to answer individually, tomorrow i will leave on a trip and there are lots of things to take care of...

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  29. Roxana16 January 2011 at 01:15

    bonjour, chers amies et amis, je vous remercie de tout coeur pour votre amitie enthousiaste... je n'ai pas le temps aujourd'hui de repondre en detail, excusez-moi, je pars demain en voyage pour quelques jours et il y a tant de choses a faire avant...
    un juste petit mot pour Madeleine, merci beaucoup pour ton intention de defendre le petit pont flottant :-) mais je pense qu'ici Jeff n'a pas du tout exprime son mecontentement par rapport a cette serie ou a mon journal, tout au contraire, ce que j'ai compris de son commentaire et que, tellement impressionne par le pont, il se demandait qui etait l'ame derriere ce journal et il a exprime son desir de rencontrer cette personne en realite (la metaphore du "souffle chaud"). c'est une curiosite normale, je pense, moi-aussi j'ai ce desir par rapport a beaucoup de mes lecteurs et amis d'ici!

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  30. crederae16 January 2011 at 04:11

    This comment has been removed by the author.

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  31. jeff16 January 2011 at 10:43

    Une métaphore...? Si on ne devine pas ce que je souhaite te dire à travers mes quelques mots...:)
    Mécontent... non... La poésie suffit parfois pour alimenter l'onirisme et les fantasmes ! Mais toi, en particulier, je ne sais pas pourquoi, j'aimerais te connaitre physiquement ! Il y a tant de choses qui "transpirent" dans ton univers tellement beau, sublimé par tes photographies...
    Et puis, avoir une vie bien remplie avec des ou ses ami(e)s ne demande peut-être pas une prolongation sur un "blog" !
    Alors, en quoi celà nous mène-t-il ? Nulle part je crois ! ! !
    Se sentir encore plus exister, apprécié ou pas, faire un pas de côté pour tenter trouver une respiration à quelques questions voire son existence !
    Mais tu ne m'as jamais dit... Non ! Finalement, je ne te le dirais pas...:)

    Bises et amitiés comme quand ça se passe sur les blogs...:)

    A bientôt !

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