Hallowed Ground to Asphalt Sky

I've chosen this intriguing painting by Rick Mobbs to highlight Jo Hemmant, a participant in Rick Mobb's invitation to readers to write poems for his paintings. I also chose Jo Hemmant because I want to tell my readers about a superb new online literary journal, Asphalt Sky, of which Jo is an editor. Asphalt Sky is an elegantly appointed journal that is "committed to publishing emerging and established artists and giving a place for thoughtful and engaging poetry, prose, and art work." My thought is to present a juxtaposition between earth and sky, highlighting the poet whose feet are firmly grounded on terra firma who has the ability to guide us into the heavenly through the written word. Asphalt Sky has just stepped into the world of online publishing. A very impressive first issue revels in earth's nature while taking the reader up, up, up and away into self-mesmerizing day-dreamy thoughts and images provided by these exceptional writers, poets and artists. I love that this first issue reminds me of all things earthbound but takes me into quiet contemplation that speaks to otherwordly thoughtscapes. I find myself scultping images into solid landscape and bucolic meanderings. I say kudos, and a cartwheel to Asphalt Sky's first foray into online literary journaling. Artists Cris Halverson and Catherine Farmer further attest to the otherworldly glimpses I experienced while reading this splendid issue.

Jo Hemmant's editorial essay, Beginnings, featured in Asphalt Sky, is as fresh as a newborn babe's first slap and hits you as strong as that first slap's wail. Please read it. Here's just a snippet of the essay, followed by Jo's poem written for Rick Mobb's painting gracing the top of this post. Enjoy!

Beginnings

"Language surrounds us, defines us, is how we express our selves, how we try to decode the universe. When I visualize it, it is as water flowing, meaning always and endlessly deferred, passing through the connections, the spaces between words and moving on, understanding contextual. And this deferral means that there can be no endings as such. Yet still the records are made, and they come out of two very different beginnings -- origin and starting point."

To which Jo goes on to describe these two very different beginnings.

Hallowed ground

he has exposed history for us,
fortified walls arc over earth
as deceptive as love, territory

cross-sectioned, the blade finding
the soft beginning of the belly that
mounds then slitting the fundaments
from pubis to throat.

Note the foreground, a woman’s head
resting on an arm as if sleeping,
a child close, tender shorn,
these two recognisable in a scree of
faceless figures, a continuum,

a latitude, the others vulnerable curvature,
ribcages scored like the knife’s
sliding through skin, muscle,
bone to marrow’s...

Please follow the linked last line to read the remainder of this poem at Jo Hemmant's blog florescence.

Rick Mobbs - Artist Extraordinaire! - Figurative Painter & Poet

I've been wanting to share Rick Mobbs talent with my dear readers for quite some time now. Rick Mobbs is a phenomenal figurative painter of the highest caliber as you can see for yourself by visiting his beautifully appointed website and his blog, Mine Enemy Grows Older. Also my little chickadees, you get a two-fer when you visit Rick. Not only does Rick paint the most original, dreamy, and otherworldly subjects, scenes and sensibilities *wink* but he writes, too! Be prepared to spend lots of time reading, oooooo-ing and ahhhh-ing when you first visit Rick's blog because its absolutely packed with plenty of interesting paintings and personalia. Oh, and did I mention Rick's blog encourages reader participation? This is how it all plays out: Rick puts up one of his ethereal paintings and his readers are invited to write a poem or short story to accompany the painting! I was around for the beginning of this enterprise and I want to share with you what did unfold when Rick put up his painting under a post entitled, Standing in the Shadows, on March 29th. Johemmant, author of floresence, wrote the wonderfully evocative story to accompany the painting which was an instant hit! She captured the essence of the painting for me in a most poignant manner. I'll share part of the story with a link to the original post. I urge you to visit Johemmant's blog site because she writes with a deft hand neurally connected to one amazingly creative, insightful brain! Now on with an excerpt of her story:

We were resting after a long day in the fields when the children came running, shouting excitedly of angels and unicorns. We would have thought it a game and sent them away but an elder pointed to the sky silver with cloud and told us to listen to the wind in its lament. We rose then and followed their raggletaggle to the edge of the village where the salt flats begin. And the children were right, these were not figments but the archetypes of our dreams.

I stand at the edge,
a myth sheltering under
my outstretched wings,

their eyes hostile
holding us here though

I have been amongst them
every day, a shifting

shadow, a soft breath
on a tired cheek.

But I see my mistake.
Men do not want proof,

they would rather
have faith.

Follow the rest of her story here.

Johemmant's ekphratic poem inspired another poem by poet, Ozymandiaz, who you can find on his own blog Ocellus which is exceptionally well-written and thoughtful. His contribution below:

Neath the ashen sky
Her spirit strong and true
Some saw but a mare
But the wisest knew
The painted desert soul
Watching o’er this land
Known well as the wind
Known well as the sand
Presents herself this day
To run and to fly
In form seldom seen
Neath the ashen sky

Ozymandiaz's poem put an entirely different feel to the painting; a genuine Native American voice - wise and grounded. I just love his interpretation, too.

There's so much more to Rick Mobb's Mine Enemy Grows Older; Rick is one of those incredibly creative, innovative, multi-talented people who grace us with artistic delight and reverence. He draws from a deep well of experience and a rich inner life that connects with the heavenly. He can charm us and keep us enrapt in his world - as is evidenced in his poem, Mary Draws from Silence, with it's companion painting, below.

Mary Draws From Silence

Mary draws and Mary writes from silence,

silence that uplifts and holds her. These strings,

she thinks, are more than finite. They wrap all things

and draw them to her. Every weight and every measure,

all things tossed or turned or treasured,

all things simple, green or rusted, doubted, doubled, drummed

or busted, all things filtered out and saved, or wasted,

all things stirring, dead, or passive

all the unknown multitude of things

enormous as a whole, and as a whole, so quiet.

Like Mary’s eyes, so quiet. Mary draws from silence.

Poem and Painting by Rick Mobbs

Please give yourself a well-deserved break from day-to-day harsh realities and engulf yourself in a world of aesthetic sensibilities brought to you by Rick Mobbs.