An opaque, tender treatment of a journey to a long-awaited tryst.
Asunder
The black pond and the long braided shore
and the purple moon full and heavy
and the angry currents that curl and tumble
in spitting pools to pull from under
as the call to row below the brow
where lightning split the oak in fold.
Then a swarm of flies on sandy beach
through backyards, corn fields and summer streets
beyond the gulch a cabin seen
the door left open just so far
a flame blown out to candle smoke
and a voice did whisper to form a name
two bodies pressed and together came.
***
Sometime last year, I went to stand in front of and stare at a collection of early works by Picasso at The Guggenheim here in NYC. I overheard a guy standing nearby say, “Well, I could draw that.” I leaned over and said, “Yeah, but you didn’t.” and then moved along. With any creative endeavor there may be talent. There may be skill. There may be techniques well honed after year upon year of experimentation. But what must be applied is effort; showing up and doing the work. The video for Asunder happened that way. I had written the poem a couple of years prior and forgot about it. I happened across a hard copy and at that very moment began putting the video together. And that’s how it often works for me. I don’t sit down and create something on a schedule. Through the years, I have developed a routine, a practice really, of constantly filling my head with ideas and fodder. When something is ready to spit itself out, I show up and go to work, no matter if it takes a couple of hours or all day and through the night…all worn out and wasted…usually dehydrated and over-smoked. This video is no vision of Picasso, but I showed up and something happened.
