Angel In the Vortex | Becoming is Superior to Being

Archive for the ‘Angel In the Vortex’ Tag

Angel In Vortex Revised 4 comments

Angel In Vortex (11/25/06) — Abstract by kenne

“The angel comes with windy upward drafts, with transcendental longings; the Duende arrives with demonic undertow,
with downdrafts of emotion. Both are fundamental inner disturbances, fissures of being, ways of putting the self at risk,
liberating figures. They are extremities of human imagination. There is a place on the endangered shoreline
where they seem to meet and where they may be indistinguishable from each other.

. . . Rilke wrote: ‘Works of art always spring from those who have faced the danger, gone to the very end
of an experience, to the point beyond which no human being can go. The further one dares to go,
the more decent, the more personal, the more unique a life becomes.”‘

— from The Demon and The Angel; Searching for the Source of Artistic Inspiration, by Edward Hirsch

“Man’s ability to measure the spiritual, earthbound, and cosmic, set against his physical helplessness
is his fundamental tragedy. The tragedy of spirituality.” — Paul Klee

Posted May 11, 2024 by kenneturner in Abstract Art, Edward Hirsch, Information, Paul Klee, Quotes

Tagged with Angel In the Vortex, Duende, Edward Hirsch, Paul Klee, Quote, Rilke

2006 Abstract 1 comment

Angel In The Vortex — Abstract by kenne
Van Gogh Colors On The Original Abstract, 2006

“Life exists only at this very moment,

and in this moment it is infinite and eternal,

for the present moment is infinitely small;

before we can measure it, it has gone,

and yet it exists forever….”

— Alan Watts

Posted April 7, 2020 by kenneturner in Abstract Art, Information, Quote

Tagged with Abstract Art, Alan W. Watts, Angel In the Vortex, Quote, Van Gogh Colors

I am much too alone . . . 1 comment

Angel In The Vortex — June 2009 Abstract by kenne

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother’s face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.