Not A Goose Chase
The Wild Goose
The Wild Goose is coming
I listen for her low cries and wingbeat
She sees me, sees my longing heart
Swoops low then flies away again.
I know somehow she wants me to join her
To abandon all and jump into that sky
To trust her, holding me up
in the stream of air left by her wings
I'm hoping you can discuss this, at least see it as more than a bit of prose.
For me this summons up the image of flocks of geese beginning their long migratory journeys in the autumn, a time of year whose melancholy strains of approaching winter are a rich source of artistic inspiration. I always stand and watch them as they sweep low over the fields, - I live on the western beginnings of the Fens, where the sky comes right down to the ground - the low, insistent, lament-like drumming of their wingbeats mingling with their plaintive cries in the way you evoke so well.
Sometimes a single goose will detach itself from the flock and swoop down as you describe, as if to pluck me up and carry me away to a far better place. There are twilights when dozens of flocks fly over in slow, stately succession, gradually dissolving into the wan, setting sun. Like you I often wish I could somehow grow wings and travel with them. It is, perhaps, a description of our last journey which, as we grow older, begins to draw closer and closer, and which we come to welcome.
This is a wonderful piece, thanks for posting it.
Very Nice..
sauntering Goose Chase..
and for me.. a call of the wild that both
freer wolves.. and humans share.. faint whisper is..
or bellowing yell.. through the course of life.. and yes..
I fly as air.. now.. calling present.. i heaRt it.. express it..
wITh spiRit of soUl.. air becomes music for dance.. i in
return.. become dance heir.. flowing current breeze
feather landing.. light in air.. i continue
feat of feather air is me
All Now..
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"I want to go where the wild goose goes."
Or in better days, why the Shaman wore a Swan in flight around his neck.
We who see so little do see there is more.
When the ink forms words, the paint an image, and some days it comes as if from another hand, a teacher who sees us trying and helps. The Creative does reach beyond this world.
We will all migrate, but each has a different destination.
My own regrets are I should have spent more time painting, written ten bad pages more often, which to me is looking within seeking something more. It did me better than time spent at the office.
In a Science Article, about the range of human perception, it was mentioned that some conditions do give greater visual range, and they give Matisse as an example. In old age he had cataracts, which give extended sight in the Ultra Violet range. He was seeing more, and he painted it.
I want to reach beyond the edges and see the full spectrum.
I want to take wing with the swan.
http://s214.photobucket.com/user/Mikey_ ... .html?o=36
Sometimes a single goose will detach itself from the flock and swoop down as you describe, as if to pluck me up and carry me away to a far better place. There are twilights when dozens of flocks fly over in slow, stately succession, gradually dissolving into the wan, setting sun. Like you I often wish I could somehow grow wings and travel with them. It is, perhaps, a description of our last journey which, as we grow older, begins to draw closer and closer, and which we come to welcome.
This is a wonderful piece, thanks for posting it.
Somebody pointed out that the geese in my painting are flying the wrong way.
One Spring when my graphic design work had finished I had a job next to a pool where geese came everyday. This may have inspired the writing. It was quite a time ago. I had never though of this as a dying exerience, but at my age I find it a comforting thought, so many thanks for that.
Fred, I think you've got it. It is a desire to throw of all shackles and be free. You've got to fly to know.
Thanks for sharing Inventor. I have tried to give some expression to this in painting.
http://i214.photobucket.com/albums/cc28 ... pe_6-1.jpg
Thanks for sharing your paintings.. Grebel..
the way you paint migratory geese blend into
patterns and colors of nature that some of us see..
and some of us miss.. not unlike Neo.. escaping Matrix..
now.. wHere we come one with Nature in flow wITh heArt..
and spiRit in expression of soUL.. wheRe shades we wear..
open up mindful awareness..
forever now.. escaping lies
in clothes
of Art..
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Campin_Cat
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BEAUTIFUL paintings, Grebels----I, TOO, especially like the alley one!! It reminds me of when a black-and-white movie "opens-up" into a colored scene.....
Also, I like that, in the GOOSE one, you had a really colorful sky----I can't get ENOUGH of color!!
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There's a haunting intersection between 'want-to' and 'have-to' that most of us find ourselves at occasionally. Want-to constantly beckons us, have-to frowns slightly in the reverie of want-to fanning the flames of his heart and increasing the ache of his sacrifice for being earth-bound and mummified in the red tape of the environment.
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Thanks again Fred. I think at that time I felt the need to escape just being me.
You an animal lover Raptor.
Thanks Campin_Cat. These were painted a long time ago.
Ana, I sign them when people open there wallets and that is very rare.
techstep, I fly all to rarely these days, getting on with ordinary life takes my time energy.