Work by Impasto Artaud
About Me
- Jonathan
- Adalbert is a forum for me, to post ephemera, photography, poetry, occasional travel notes, and various spontaneous motions. Cover photo: Parsonage where my great-grandfather spent his early years. Taken near Liegnitz, Silesia, ca. 1870. The "xothique" portion of the web address is a nod to Clark Ashton Smith's fictional continent of Zothique.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Friday, August 23, 2013
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Friday, August 16, 2013
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Thursday, August 8, 2013
The Second Season
Or the first, third, or fourth, depending on when one starts counting...
I am not an advocate for the season of summer, which is threaded with adumbrations of fall in the mornings at this time. I know of two great grumpy essays: Anton Szandor Lavey's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anton_Lavey) Summertime, from The Devil's Notebook (1992) and Arthur Schopenhauer's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schopenhauer) On Noise, from the selection of the philosopher's work titled Studies in Pessimism. On Noise is contained in this link: http://books.google.com/books?id=zJhJAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA28&lpg=PA28&dq=schopenhauer+on+noise&source=bl&ots=4ScVIWlLgK&sig=UevbHzbfd64l-Mqsz43LRzVjRF4&hl=en&sa=X&ei=4vMDUuCPHrH2igLFtY.
It took me a certain amount of time to realize that summer is unpleasant not so much because of the weather, but because of the way humans can act during the hot days. Noise irritates. Schopenhauer complained about the abusive overapplication of whip cracking in his day, as destructive to thinking. In our times, noise levels expand greatly from June 21 to September 21, give or take, with windows open, boom cars and outdoor activities. Schopenhauer's ears would not have been able to process the ambience. And LaVey has some piercing remarks on summer in his essay. Take such jewels as: "Taking the warmth nature has provided, he (man) has fashioned for himself an environment where his mindlessness flourishes most. It is the only season which validates slobs." Or: "I would enjoy spring more were it not for the impending plague of summer with its human locusts thriving in an atmosphere far deadlier (if radiation levels are considered) than the worst blizzards."
The New Zealanders and Argentineans have their own context for this.
I am not an advocate for the season of summer, which is threaded with adumbrations of fall in the mornings at this time. I know of two great grumpy essays: Anton Szandor Lavey's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anton_Lavey) Summertime, from The Devil's Notebook (1992) and Arthur Schopenhauer's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schopenhauer) On Noise, from the selection of the philosopher's work titled Studies in Pessimism. On Noise is contained in this link: http://books.google.com/books?id=zJhJAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA28&lpg=PA28&dq=schopenhauer+on+noise&source=bl&ots=4ScVIWlLgK&sig=UevbHzbfd64l-Mqsz43LRzVjRF4&hl=en&sa=X&ei=4vMDUuCPHrH2igLFtY.
It took me a certain amount of time to realize that summer is unpleasant not so much because of the weather, but because of the way humans can act during the hot days. Noise irritates. Schopenhauer complained about the abusive overapplication of whip cracking in his day, as destructive to thinking. In our times, noise levels expand greatly from June 21 to September 21, give or take, with windows open, boom cars and outdoor activities. Schopenhauer's ears would not have been able to process the ambience. And LaVey has some piercing remarks on summer in his essay. Take such jewels as: "Taking the warmth nature has provided, he (man) has fashioned for himself an environment where his mindlessness flourishes most. It is the only season which validates slobs." Or: "I would enjoy spring more were it not for the impending plague of summer with its human locusts thriving in an atmosphere far deadlier (if radiation levels are considered) than the worst blizzards."
The New Zealanders and Argentineans have their own context for this.
Arthur Schopenhauer 1788-1860
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Rainbow Falls, Hawaii
Card sent in the 1940s, with some Hawaiian words included in the text on the back.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
Wrong side since memory know
Wrong
side since memory know
Wrong side since memory know, non-eruption, just
look at those places, lava talus marmoreal.
I generally from the western slope see,
The base of Mt. Hood ringed spectacles springboard
notch, can you photograph at night from 45 miles away, Celsius or Canadian
kilometers forgotten from 1970s mandates, drive with headlamps on, can’t
convert, flash cubes breathing like neutron bombs, the moon leaves everyone
alive save the buildings. The root of
the mountain is what’s major, scrape marks sidereal, the roads around Sam
Hill’s manse are stationary, cars up and down none for miles, rattlesnake’s
buzzer whistling, compass sclera overtone production, nearest star Ginnungagap
fanning peacock wind generators. Bayonet
strike, purling intestine jacket, petroglyph motor. Misplaced der Alte’s grave, the hills past the
lintels, Stonehenge of dry times, take what shade you can get, oasis house umbrage
scent too close to the road, shivered roses by memorial of war.
JF
August 2, 2013
Photograph: Mt. Hood and Columbia River, outside Maryhill Museum of Art, Washington State,
June 8, 2013
Thursday, August 1, 2013
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