Rain on a Sunday.

On Sun, Oct 27, 2013 at 5:38 PM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

>>>>... Just clicked the ignition numerous times till the fan belt connected to get the windows open,  Not that i'm living in a fan belt and the egg timer's a bit slow.  Not short of rubber bands but i don't know where they go.  Just called this 'rain on a sunday' to practice 13s.

Otherwise it's a normal grey day much like any other.  Quietly enjoying being totally unindustrious and looking out at the weather now and then and roasting chestnuts on a shovel.  Having scoured the internet already for signs of life all the way to Noah Vale.

 

Just clickety clicked in to say all is wonderful with the blog. The glimpsing screen is fine and i enjoyed glimpsing  and all that stonework should blow a few minds among all those thousands of unknowns who are so literate that they just send me an extra number.

Anyway at least we've got over 13000 who hopefully would rather read about the mystical aspect of roses instead of microchips in the toilet, social breakdown, renegade cops arresting babies and shooting pet cats and squirells in the shopping mall (true), i think our radical saviour the internet needs more than a facelift, it needs an army of roadsweepers and dump trucks and an injection of intelligence (the original meaning of the word) not to mention a shift towards life and a simple cop on to the beauty of the ordinary and a sense of gratitude for getting the battle they asked for.

As i say, just an ordinary grey unindustrious sunday and i did get the nudge to change the clocks last night, something to do with the battle of dark and light (ah not that one again) otherwise the only human interaction was an email from a friend needing an online conversation as her head is in bits and is weeping because nothing's worked out as planned and people wonder why i don't accept invitations and a neighbour parked his bike which still doesn't have brakes to ask to borrow a fiver for tobacco to go with his six pack so i got out a box full of loose change and gave him a handful and a roast chestnut which he was reluctant at first to try as he'd never heard of eating them. Hastening to add as he left that you have to pierce them or they explode all over the place which seemed to unnerve him a little.

Phew it's warm in here must shed another layer of wool.  Do let 'me' know if you find any good websites (must draw the curtain on my opposite neighbours big screen hurley match, distracts my peripherals.)  Ah yes, it's good to draw curtains you don't need to be gifted to do that.  My best ideas come out of the joy of not having to do anything so i can look at what i feel like doing.  Part of the art which i hasten to add is for the benefit of service to others.  Always looking inwards for something more radical ( from the root word meaning root as in radish) something simple and natural as people have forgotten simple and natural preferring viral rumours exposed as deceitful hoaxes, drama is so boring.  Anyway, "to talk but rarely is to be natural", so long as it's not done on purpose then it's a religious affectation and i'm not affected by religion so i'll take a break and see what the present brings, most have to wait for somebody to bring them a present.  Ah the pathos of life...

...STOP !   ...MOP.

Art excerpts from: soft grey skies, martin law, march 2012

"soft grey skies" Blog Archive April 10, 2012

CASTLES OF CORK - Ballinacarriga Castle

Continuum of CASTLES OF CORK.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Art: Ballinacarriga Castle, martin law

art-work : digital panplay, "Castle Puzzle Close-ups", Oct13 - wfp for moo

CASTLES OF CORK.

On Thu, Sep 12, 2013 at 11:45PM , Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

CASTLES OF CORK.

It's just as well that i wasn't dependent on 'Castles of Cork' to keep me afloat, or i might have been lacking in fortification.

Aside from a few choppy waves in the nature of the commisioned transaction there were also the conditions i produced the work under.

Only once before have i ever done something of such architectural exactitude, and that was twelve drawings of local churches in Co. Wicklow for a calendar.

Remarkable, at least to me, if not humourous, is that i didn't have a chair to sit on to comfortably draw the twenty castles and detailed map, working on an unusually low table. So i did the whole work perched on the wooden arm, just two inches wide, of the armchair. However, water off a seagull's back so to speak.

Important to note, all drawings were done solely with a fine sable brush, not a pen.

Which leads me to wonder, are they drawings or paintings, and what's the difference?

Anyway, a test of discipline, as it's something i 'can' do though it's not my cup of tea. Which is a fair enough reason to not do another one of its kind.

At least twenty four hours attentive concentration on each one, which also had to be worked out beforehand on tracing paper. In most cases from the flimsiest of reference and even at times almost none at all.

The prime example being Oilean Beag Castle, the one with the sheer cliffs, which i was told no longer exists but for a few remaining stones where the foundation was, with perhaps a vague bit of an engraving to go by.

Funny thing was, i had a dream that night where i was hovering above the site. In the dream i teleported myself to a sideways on view, distinctly saw the headland with cliffs and crashing waves.

The very next day the author instructed me to reconstruct from imagination a sideways on view, which i did, somehow.

Just look at all that precise stonework. All done with a brush. As if i'd actually been there, back then.

Over all it's an exercise in brush strokes.

Every single one in place. Done so as to imply light and shade and volume, as well as the organic flow patterns and rhythms of nature. I doubt you'll find even one superfluous stroke. The intent being, to make it visionary as well as literal.

Well, the work can speak for itself. Though there's hardly anyone i know of who knows i did them and the author is no longer with us.

Nice though, to think that ultimately they come to be studied and enjoyed by more people. It's seldom if at all that i receive a response from people who see my work.

So what else is new? All that focussed energy must go somewhere.

Just another one of those tests of discipline of what it takes to do a good job. So now you know a tiny bit of what it took, regardless of reward or no reward.~

The book itself, (with the cover replaced by another artist) is:

The Castles and Fortified Houses of West Cork. By Michael J. Carroll.

Bantry Studio Publications, 2001.

Bantry. County Cork.

Martin Law. (Rainbowmaker).

Art: Oilean Beag Castle, martin law

art-work : digital panplay, "Castle Puzzle", Oct13 - wfp for moo

-CASTLES OF CORK - Ballinacarriga Castle

SIX WOMANDALAS.

On Tue, Sep 10, 2013 at 07:26 PM , Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

SIX WOMANDALAS.

Just sitting

knowing everything

is growing.

~mrbm.

The urge to make signs in the soil. I've been doing it for millions of years in one form or another and i'm not bored.

Mandala, (sanskrit) meaning 'circle.'

Specifically a circle for focus of meditation. Common to humans in all cultures. A sacred circle.

Some mandalas are esoterically complex. Elements within them corresponding to facets of psyche or spirit. Imagine a compass for the soul. Realignment in silent contemplation. As within, so without. As without, so within.

My blood red leaved acer sapling, centre to a twelve foot diameter raised circular lawn, having languished and expired to a mere stick due to density of earth. Its place is tended as a 'soil circle', “hommage to soil for what it provides.”

Which is why i call these mandalas 'womandalas.' I made six womandalas, (a 13 letter title).

Having some affinity with amerindian medicine circles, these ones are simple and step lightly on the earth. Made in meditative attention and inner quiet, using evocative natural objects that could fall to earth anywhere. They are made facing the sun in the south west.

Try arranging a string of beads in a perfect circle on the earth. Any adjustment at one point distorts the circle at another. A primal instruction and meditation in itself.

The plain simple 'doing' without assertion is what the image bears witness to. You might call them prayer wheels. Except i'm not asking for anything, i'm acknowledging what just IS.

Centred. Attentive. Lightly on the earth. Natural without pretence. Plain. Sparing in restraint.

Honouring the female principle in abundance. A sunny day, awaiting the passing of each cloud shadow, 3/9/2013.

Total: 9. A triple triple-Goddess.

Six Womandalas.~

>>>O<<< >>>O<<< >>>O<<<

              rainbowmaker~

soil circle symbol improvisations, martin law, Sep 2013

ABSTRACT ROSES. ( A ramble).

On Sat, Sep 07, 2013 at 11:53PM , Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

ABSTRACT ROSES. ( A ramble).
In the beginning was The Rose and it was spelt EROS.

The Devil was nowhere to be found in the detail as he hadn't been invented yet.

You can see that for yourself by simply zooming in, through levels of magnification and descending into deep fertile chasms and folds and flying low over bright blooms windblown, composed of seeming random generous giant gestures of sensuous substance.

Primal patchwork impasto and soft touches to pink painted petals, just off the tip of the brush. You'd be amazed what brushes get up to in close up, well i am.

It's a veritable den of zen in there.

With no dark denizens in the detail, only among the dragon lines, flourishes from the 'the angel in the works', translating direct from the TAO Goddess of Flow and all in the mind's eye and your world is where your heart is.

If you can tell a nuance from a nuisance and without stepping back to admire the view, perceive pigment as a possible portal. Without denying the beauty in the eye of the beholder while being aware your projections are in your face.

What can you do for people who, having grown up only to become 'normal' can't bring their love to bear on the sacredness of surfaces to focus longer than a TV logo.

Who subliminally decreed that surfaces weren't as sacred as insides? There's no inside without the outside. As if you can't judge some books by their cover. You don't have to be a 'remote viewer' or a designer of projectiles but dot your eyes, tease your cross and say 'female fairies'.

Some people think beauty is only what they think it is and so no big surprise.

Having forgotten and not remembered, how to read signs that don't just point to something else. The significance 'in them'

not beyond or around them.

I mean, you don't just see 'what's really there'. You simply really see what you really see. If you see it it's there. Call it 'experience now', or don't call it anything at all.

But to return to the point: 'paint.' And mixing metaphors as if they were an indispensable acrylic substance and WONDER why people don't notice nuances or realize aesthetics are the best medicine and taste is not a problem.

  

Having been to an unusual degree metaphorically immersed in paint all my life no small WONDER if rainbows are part of the furniture and dripping spectrums stain the glass. Why have a favourite colour when you have the whole visible spectrum if not a plectrum to play with?

Meanwhile palettes go unpublished, ignored, as if something secondary to the work itself when they're primary and rarely looked into despite being loaded with subliminals and inadvertent other intent.

Blending the black and the white of Mars and Titanium with Permanent Rose. Fine tuned and refined viscous not vicious but water soluble mixing tones from darker to enlightening.

People have the physical and the spiritual living in separate appartments ( as in meant to be apart), and when you put a grid over free association, people get off on the 'forbidden' part and forget the fruit.

Thereby declaring seeds of wars instead of roses and manifest abundance and the people crying in dreams for freedom at peace with itself.

Mixing colours is mutable magic medicine.

It's about refining flavours and sensing significance as with smells and aromas.

It's the spirit of substance and the substance of spirit.

To say, “there is more than meets the eye”, only errs and infers a duality that in reality is apparent but nonexistent.~

~~~~ >>>> ~~~~ >>>> ~~~~ mrbm

Art:

ROSE SPELT EROS, martin law, Aug 2013

Close-up Photos, martin law