#878 + YOUAREMYNIGHTSTAR 2017 / BLACK ICE: EIGHTH 2019/ YOUAREMYNIGHTSTAR 2017 + VISUAL poem

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YOUAREMYNIGHTSTAR

‘BLACK ICE: EIGHTH’

YOUAREMYNIGHTSTAR

Catherine L. Johnson 

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All of my work refuses/denies the camera’s eye.

The revelation, the experience,

occurs with an actual encounter – presence.

The beauty of one’s beloved is

the improvisational/sacred listening

of/ for/ to/ with

the beloved.

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PLEASE CLICK ON THE IMAGE TO ENLARGE + FOR DETAIL

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Detail: YOUAREMYNIGHTSTAR  (left) pentimento of drawn lines/writings

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To view the other drawings

in the BLACK ICE series,

please click on the links below:

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/09/24/879-black-ice-into-the-night-2019-catherine-l-johnson-songs-of-ascension-2008-meredith-monk-love-is-rising-radiance/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/08/03/872-black-ice-beatify-2019-catherine-l-johnson-consecration-1980-bill-evans-trio-bill-evans-piano-marc-johnson-bass-joe-labarbera-drums/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/07/18/870-black-ice-silently-2019-catherine-l-johnson-piece-peace-1958-bill-evans-gambre-1991-anthony-cox-billy-higgins/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/06/21/866-black-ice-quiet-2019-catherine-l-johnson-raf-k9-jaspar-obi-aka-dunkirk-beethovens-opus-132-quartetto-italiano-anthony-cox-billy-higgins/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/06/30/867-black-ice-tenderly-2019-catherine-l-johnson-prana-qi-vijnana-joie-de-vivre-tenderly-bill-evans-tony-scott/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/07/13/869-black-ice-sweetly-2019-catherine-l-johnson-blinded-by-your-grace-2017-stormzy/

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To view

YOUAREMYNIGHTSTAR 2017,

please click on link below:

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2017/10/28/759-nhop-bass-solo-youaremynightstar-1-2-catherine-l-johnson-there-is-a-voice-that-doesnt-use-words-listen-rumi/

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Poetry

Poetry (ancient Greek: ποιεω (poieo) = I create) is an art form in which human language is used for its aesthetic qualities in addition to, or instead of, its notional and semantic content. It consists largely of oral or literary works in which language is used in a manner that is felt by its user and audience to differ from ordinary prose.

It may use condensed or compressed form to convey emotion or ideas to the reader’s or listener’s mind or ear; it may also use devices such as assonance and repetition to achieve musical or incantatory effects. Poems frequently rely for their effect on imagery, word association, and the musical qualities of the language used. The interactive layering of all these effects to generate meaning is what marks poetry.

Because of its nature of emphasising linguistic form rather than using language purely for its content, poetry is notoriously difficult to translate from one language into another: a possible exception to this might be the Hebrew Psalms, where the beauty is found more in the balance of ideas than in specific vocabulary. In most poetry, it is the connotations and the “baggage” that words carry (the weight of words) that are most important. These shades and nuances of meaning can be difficult to interpret and can cause different readers to “hear” a particular piece of poetry differently. While there are reasonable interpretations, there can never be a definitive interpretation.

Perhaps the most vital element of sound in poetry is rhythm.

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http://www.poetry.org/whatis.htm

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YoUaRemYNiGhTsTaR,Dr.AdvAnCed WiSdoM C+IamyoURS

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#879 + ‘BLACK ICE: INTO THE NIGHT’ 2019 Catherine L. Johnson + ‘Songs of Ascension’ 2008 Meredith Monk + LOVE IS riSING RADIANCE

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To view other drawings

in the BLACK ICE series,

please click on the links below:

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/08/03/872-black-ice-beatify-2019-catherine-l-johnson-consecration-1980-bill-evans-trio-bill-evans-piano-marc-johnson-bass-joe-labarbera-drums/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/07/18/870-black-ice-silently-2019-catherine-l-johnson-piece-peace-1958-bill-evans-gambre-1991-anthony-cox-billy-higgins/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/06/21/866-black-ice-quiet-2019-catherine-l-johnson-raf-k9-jaspar-obi-aka-dunkirk-beethovens-opus-132-quartetto-italiano-anthony-cox-billy-higgins/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/06/30/867-black-ice-tenderly-2019-catherine-l-johnson-prana-qi-vijnana-joie-de-vivre-tenderly-bill-evans-tony-scott/

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/07/13/869-black-ice-sweetly-2019-catherine-l-johnson-blinded-by-your-grace-2017-stormzy/

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‘BLACK ICE: INTO THE NIGHT’

Catherine L. Johnson 

2019

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whisper / whispers / whispering

listen

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NOTE:

each work of the BLACK ICE series

oscillates / dances / shifts / reveals

constantly

in relation

to the specific light source – from ambient to direct

to the light’s positioning –  the actual angle 

and

to the movement of the viewer.

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All of my work refuses/denies the camera’s eye.

The revelation, the experience,

occurs with an actual encounter – presence.

The beauty of one’s beloved is

the improvisational/sacred listening

of/ for/ to/ with

the beloved.

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PLEASE CLICK ON THE IMAGE TO ENLARGE + FOR DETAIL

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intimate

— listening/attending with an open heart and with the open palms of one’s hands —

— listen to the light —

reverence

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IMPROVISATIONAL / FREE HAND DRAWING / NO ERASURES

TOP SPHERE: iridescent silver Pablo pencil,  HB + 2B graphite pencils

BOTTOM SPHERE: HB + 2B graphite pencils

DRAWN ON BLACK HEAVYWEIGHT ARCHIVAL MATTE PAPER
19.25” H x 13.75” W

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Photo credit: Jim Ross, owner of Ross Frame Shop, Minneapolis

Jim Ross framed ‘BLACK ICE: INTO THE NIGHT‘

for viewing at

INDE / JACOBS Gallery, Marfa, Texas.

http://indejacobs.com/

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Meredith Monk: Songs of Ascension (Ann Hamilton’s Tower, Oct 2008)

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AWCCLJLIVEloveGRACEloveINTOTHENIGHTINTOTHEDAYlivingRADIANTtruthCLJAWC

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#878 + RE-PUBLISHED in REMEMBRANCE + 11 SEPTEMBER 2001

A RE-PUBLISHED ENTRY

IN REMEMBRANCE:  11 SEPTEMBER 2001

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TRAUMA:

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/11/nyregion/911-survivors-ptsd.html

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11 SEPTEMBER 2001

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One of four original works  – each representing a cardinal direction

Measurements: 42″ H x 26″ W

Mixed media on paper

http://www.mnartists.org/artwork/11-september-2001-one-four-original-works

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11 September 2001

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The morning of 11 September  2001

was a beautiful clear blue sky day in the Twin Cities.

I turned the radio on, as I always did, to start my day with classical music.

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The announcer’s voice sounded like he was walking

on slippery logs on a fast-moving river.

Staccato gasps and then a retrieval of steadiness

and

this cadence was  repeated.

The fragments of the telling became clear:

one of the World Trade Center towers had been hit by a rogue plane.

Synapses and connecting new wires of comprehension

are disrupted when confronted with confounding tragedy.

It was like language and thought was severed.

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While living in New York City’s Little Italy

and

completing the prestigious year-long  MOMA’s

P. S. 1  International Artist Studio Residency,

I took a part-time sales/marketing position

with an international company

whose U.S. offices were located on Wall Street.

For six years I took the subway to the World Trade Center.

 

 

11 September 2001

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On that date, I was living in Harold and Esther Stassen home in Sunfish Lake

near the  Twin Cities international airport.

One would hear planes constantly

– departing and landing with the accompanying sonic decibels

shattering the bucolic landscape.

My beloved friend, Jane Matteson, lived down the lane.

I called Jane.

She actually had watched the event on the television.

I called my brother in London who is in finance.

He had not heard.

I implored him to evacuate.

I called my sister in Washington, D. C., a General Counsel.

She did not answer.

My heart was pounding.

I called Rachel Stassen-Berger,

the grand-daughter of Harold and Esther Stassen.

Slowly, with gentle questions,

I asked if she had talked with her parents

who lived in her hometown, New York City. Greenwich Village.

I could intuit that she had not learned what had occurred – yet.

She is a star political reporter for the Pioneer Press.

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I called a local craft store

and

asked for them to bring out all

the red, white and blue ribbon they had in their store.

– not knowing what I would do.

I am someone who has an instinct

to bend the harrows of lightening into a softer and meaningful light.

My nature.

I am an artist.

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I taught at the South YMCA,

a  Y serving a community of

mixed ethnicity and a wide range of economic demographics

–  factors that are priorities for me.

I became certified as a Water Fitness instructor

six months after my total hip replacement surgery, 26 May 1999.

I had to lay at 120 degrees for eight weeks

to ensure the prosthetic would weave into the remaining  pelvic bone.

I had created a healing circle:

Catherine’s Courageous Compassion Circle

to assist in my recovery.

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The Stassen family is a family that defines gracious, kind,  proactive leadership.

Rachel’s family invited me to stay at the Stassen home

as Harold and Esther were then residing in Fellowship Village, a retirement home.

I was living there on 11 September 2001.

 

I picked up spools and spools of red, white and blue ribbon 

and

drove to teach my first weight lifting class for women.

Most of the women had experienced Pearl Harbor as children.

Their panic was audible.

I asked them to join hands in prayer before the class began.

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After the class,

I set up a table and began making pin ribbons  of red white blue.

The television was blaring and cycling the images,

the horrors of  what would be coded: 9/11.

I began to teach others how to make the pin ribbons.

I set up nine stations so each person

could contribute and perform one of the nine steps

in the creation of the pin ribbons.

The Pioneer Press sent a reporter and a photographer to the South Y

to document/publish this community event

that involved all the Y members.

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One night later, I went to Lowell Pickett’s Dakota Jazz Club

in Bandana Square in St. Paul with Jane Matteson.

Every night for a month I created and gave away the pin ribbons.

There were 30 different versions-

  evolving from tangible folded fabric into evanescent whispers.

Total: 3000

 

 

On 12 September,

I joined my brother Bill at the Minnesota Orchestra for the season opener.

It was decided to honor this profound time of grief and shock 

with Sir Edward Elgar’s ‘Nimrod’ from Enigma Variations

as the beginning piece of the night’s programme.

I brought a basket of pin ribbons

and

during intermission I brought them backstage for the musicians.

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When the second half of the concert began,

all the musicians as well as the conductor, Osmo Vänskä,

wore my redwhiteblue handmade pin ribbons.

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I responded to requests from Fire Departments,

Police Departments,

Hospital Emergency Rooms,

and

to companies representing the financial sectors,

counterparts and colleagues to those in the World Trade Center

to create pin ribbons of remembrance.

 

On 15 September 2001,

I set up my studio outdoors and created four works.

One of the pieces is the image above.

Four collages were created

– visual compositions of drawing and collage with roses as the leit motif.

It was beautiful outdoors as I worked.

It was a tremendously jarring disconnect to experience

the beauty of  nature

and 

process what had just occurred.

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The heroism and the global compassion of the human heart

was called out with momentous velocity –

a  powerful, poignant choir of humanity’s empathy.

Flight 93: “Let’s roll!”

 

2002

I only exhibited my work in places of worship and in places where people sought solace.

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11 September 2002

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In July 2002,

I called the Wayzata Community Church via Reverend Bob Stout,

who officiated at my Mother’s funeral – a face-to-face meeting was set up.

I brought my portfolio of the four 11 September 2001 works.

I asked Reverend Bob Stout and the Senior Minister (whose name I cannot recall)

if they were planning

a commemorative/remembrance service on the first anniversary.

A memorial service, at that time, had not entered their radar.

The next day, I received a call from Rev. Stout.

He said: YES!

The Wayzata Community Church (WCC)

would lead an ecumenical remembrance service.

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Three weeks before the service,

I installed the four works

– each one was placed at a cardinal direction

in the light filled, spacious colonnade.

They were installed high above eye level.

I draped each in a black veil, shrouds, that fell to the ground.

Haunting.

I know trauma sears the nervous system and scars the bone and heart.

I know healing occurs in communion with others

– sacred listening and intimate acknowledgment

which slowly draws out the embedded dark energy.

A slow adagio sacred process of grace love.

On 11 September 2002,

the Wayzata Community Church’s pews in the main sanctuary

was shoulder-to-shoulder

and

the standing room was occupied one hour

before

the hour-long service began.

I had been confirmed there.

Wayzata is a small town, west of Minneapolis,

representing a wide swath of economic realities,

nestled on Lake Minnetonka.

Leaders in the financial world live there

and

the losses of 911 were personal and professional.

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The WCC ministers asked me to join in the processional:

every faith was present with their respective officiants

as well as Fire and Police Departments,

U.S. Representative Jim Ramstad,

and

me, the artist,

who suggested the ecumenical memorial service.

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People wore mourners’ black.

The hour-long service was solemn

and

ended with everyone singing:

God Bless America

at the recessional.

The four Wayzata Community Church ministers

led the participants/congregants to the colonnade.

The four ministers stood to the right and beside each of the veiled paintings.

At Rev. Bob Stout’s agreed upon visual signal,

each minister,

at once,

pulled down the black fabric veiling the art.

It was like the images of shattered roses

  – and made whole in each piece,

soared upward, a/ROSE,

  as the black shrouds

fell to the ground.

Gasps were audible and extended.

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One amazing note:

on the morning of 11 September 2002,

Bob called me and asked if I was watching the Ground Zero services.

Yes, I replied.

We both felt each others’ shiver up and down our spines.

The color of the roses given

to each survivor and to the families of the victims

were the same color as those  in my art.

It was windy and the ashes of the World Trade Center Towers

were swirling upward

paralleling the movement/motion in my art.

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Artists are vehicles.

Prescient.

Shamans.

We are disciplined athletes of the soul,

conditioning ourselves to be open to the Divine.

We have the capacity…

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11 September 2011

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I have organized a KAYAK /CANOE event.

 I sent out notice to create a gather a temporary community

to paddle on the Chain of Lakes in Minneap0olis.

It is a beautiful blue sky and hot day here.

We meet at 5 pm  at Lake Calhoun and will paddle on the horizon between heaven earth.

Floating and on water.

Floating, letting go of control, on the  the element of life.

To revel in beauty and commemorate life and moving forward.

I have no idea how many people will come.

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To life, the very life of life…

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Please note this poignant article:

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2016162644_junejo10m.html

877 + 10 SEPTEMBER 2016 ALL + 10 SEPTEMBER 2017 THE + 10 SEPTEMBER 2018 THINGS + 10 SEPTEMBER 2019 YOU ARE + BLESSING THE SILVER TOOTH IMPROVISATIONAL ADVENTURE REHEARSALS

WONDER

AWE

KERBLANG

DANCE

RADICAL

HOPE

BLESSINGS

FLOW

OPEN

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THE

AWCCLJ

SILVER

CLJAWC

TOOTH

AWCCLJ

IMPROVISATIONAL

CLJAWC

ADVENTURE

AWCCLJ

REHEARSALS

 

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NATURE’S GOSPEL R/EVOLUTIONARY BLOOOM SONG:

UNFOLDING SONICS OF RESURGENCE + BLESSINGS + BLEE BLISS

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YOURVOICEISMYLULLABYLOTUSBLOOM                                             Catherine L. Johnson  2010

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To enlarge and for detail of the original painting, please click on the image

For further information on the LOTUS series, please click on the link below

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https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2013/10/22/lotus20ten-yourvoiceismylullaby-lotusbloom-the-lotus-20ten-portfolio-a-cycle-of-sixteen-works-summer-of-2010-catherine-l-johnson-artist-suites-of-the-five-senses-sensual-sensuous-th/

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#876 + 5 September + RADIANCE/RADIANCE/RADIANCE + ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ Bob Dylan + I miss you Connie – my dearly beloved GRACE LOVE cousin

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Catherine L. Johnson

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She,
In the dark,
Found light
Brighter than many ever see.

She,
Within herself,
Found loveliness,
Through the soul’s own mastery.

And now the world receives
From her dower:
The message of the strength
Of inner power.

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Langston Hughes

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CONNIE CATES SHELLA

5 September 1954 – 23 January 2019

https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/indianapolis-in/connie-shella-8138040

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AWEwoman.

I can see her as a child,

my cousin,

with her

long platinum brown hair falling

below her shoulders,

a quiet regal presence

and

a graceful ballerina demeanor.

Astonishing, to me.

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I knew her

as a woman

who was luminous,

grace,

fierce

in her determination

to

endure,

transcend

and

prevail.

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Her opened heart was

a July ruby bloom,

a maternal warm nest,

a safe hearth.

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Connie,

my “cousin-sister”,

a Queen,

who invited,

welcomed

and

upheld truth-telling,

elegant dignity

and 

lived the deep sea courage

of

unfathomable loving,

boundless hope,

with

a heartfire

that shined kind tenderness,

remarkable resilience

and

radiant beauty.

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My cousin’s

soul

spiraled, soared tonight *

escaping her knotted coiled body

and,

in her last exhale,

a bright star

was created

in the vault

of

the

night sky.

* Wednesday, 23 January 2019

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Connie Cates Shella,

my beloved unrepeatable cousin,

your radiance lives forever

in my heart beat.

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2019/01/27/847-she-in-the-dark-found-light-brighter-than-many-ever-see-connie-cates-shella-5-september-1954-23-january-2019/

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#875 + ‘Mother’s Water Writings: A’ Catherine L. Johnson 2019 + Palmer Method of Handwriting + ‘I listened…’

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Mother’s Water Writing: A                                                             Catherine L. Johnson  2019

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‘Mother’s Water Writing: A’

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Catherine L. Johnson

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2019

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Improvisational drawing.

Measurements: 25″ H x 19″ W

HB graphite pencil and eraser on 100% rag paper.

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Two drawings / performances

of my hand’s continuous motion.

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The first drawing is performed

and

then erased to create

dimension, depth and volume.

The second drawing glides / performing

over the pentimento of the initial drawing

akin to

over-dubbing in sonic / music production.

 

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NOTE: last sentence! Ha!

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The Palmer Method of penmanship instruction

was developed and promoted by Austin Palmer

in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

It was largely created as a simplified style of the “Spencerian Method”,

which had been the major standardized system

of handwriting since the 1840s.

The Palmer Method soon became the most popular

handwriting system in the United States.

Under the method,

students were taught to adopt a uniform system

of cursive writing with rhythmic motions.

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmer_Method

 

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My Mother and Daddy

were taught

The Palmer Method of Handwriting.

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I would often receive postcards from them

while I was hospitalized

for the extent of my childhood.

I longed, longed, longed

for their touch,

the sound of their voices,

their scent

– for their actual presence.

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I could not read.

The nurses would bring the postcards to my bed.

I could not read.

I would look at the color of my Mother’s and Daddy’s ink.

  My Mother’s ink was a blue sky color

and

my Daddy’s was a deep sea navy blue.

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I could not read.

I looked at the rhythm of the blue ink of their handwriting

– their voices that I could ‘listen’ to.

Their handwriting were like waves of water with a rhythmic beat.

I could not read.

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I listened to my Mother’s and Daddy’s handwriting

as songs,

  – rhythms –

as lullabies,

soothing me

and

telling me

they loved me

and

missed me

and

longed to hold me

and

longed to kiss me.

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I could hear their music for me

in the rhythm of their handwriting.

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Music.

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The key

to enter my sphere / my inner sanctum/ my sanctuary: 

practice songs of kindness, respect, honor

and

a rhythm of positive offerings,

authentic encounters and experiences of truth.

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rhythm

[ rith–uhm ]

noun

movement or procedure with uniform or patterned recurrence of a beat, accent, or the like.

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Please click on image to enlarge and for detail.

#874 + 18 August 2019 + 18 August 2015 + ‘The ONLY thing that is CONSTANT is CHANGE’ HeraclitUS + BLOOOMresUrgence

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Kindness is a revelation and a revolutionary action

– a powerful constant practice which changes lives.

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18 August 2019

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18 August 2015

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HIP + HAND + HEART

Please click on link:

https://catherineljohnson.wordpress.com/2014/08/24/hip-hand-heart/

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YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

BLOOOMresUrgence!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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