Spinning Shadows in Stillness Wait

Unclogged pathways resound infinitely in a short span. Large ringing circle of diagonal eights in the air float away collapsing, coaxing and stepping back around and into again, my eyes. Never forgot the sitting and spinning and then one quick message when I was sure they were overlapping into the frontal lobes adequately, a message; bring your people back to me, help them find their way to me. Then the skin folder over again. I knew the flesh of the spirit when it saw me and it was there.

Cesspools lay near crystal waters. Moonlight sings as the hawks slaughter. Red star sparkles so heavy on the horizon it begs the question why is the pain expanding. I cry out how can I be worthy to sing the praises of a shining deep blue that stirs echoes of the eyes I was before now, moving as your bass pounding heart sounds into and out of view again, like the waves. Crystallizing in toes creeping so delicately on the black pavement, where the branches used to break underfoot.

Wild animal remembers the pounding heart demanding. Energy of a delicate nature overwhelms the very muscles which uphold it. Standing dumbfounding and the ringing outstretched carefully, it knows a looming death hangs on no brow no more. No more down turned anger clasping gut wrench. Straight through the middle again, thinner then I can admit. Who can backtrack to the hole which I've committed.

Shines like a grace forgiven. Collapsed and broken shattered on the cement floor. Door to door grins for kick and shit spins. Crispy hotcakes don't look enticing to a happenstance leaf restorer, ladybug adorer, magnolia snorer. Give me more then that, don't you see me hear, don't you know I'm hear? Don't you know I love you? I've been here the whole time, sometimes knowing, sometimes screaming in a limitless black horizon knowing the spaces that are inside me are also outside me at the same time. I am in no time and no hurry into no unbending fury. Only my eyes and the new horizon calling. My field of play awaits. I choose to dance in rolling green light of every new spring and cling to the last leaf on the tree left from falls hallows.

-Ed Tajchman

"Awakened Lifetimes", Painting and Poem

Here I have  two things to share, a painting and a poem of the same name. Speaking of poetry, I feel like I need to mention Van Morrison's 1968 album Astral Weeks, which I listened to prolifically during the work on the painting. I agree with the critical reviews of the album, it is not entirely unlike Van Morrison's other albums, but definitely had an unusual, unique, and otherworldly feel to it. I am guessing that he was very experimental in the days before the album. It is hard to put ephemeral, universal, real, and raw feelings into words and music, but Van Morrison does it in this album. My favorite part of the song (or any song ever for that matter) is: 
The dynamo of your smile caressed the barefoot virgin child to wander
Past your window with a lantern lit
You held it in the doorway and you cast against the pointed island breeze
Said your time was open, go well on your merry way
Past the brazen footsteps of the silence easy
The concept of a mere collection of words arranged in a certain manner making me feel better about life, or mystified, or excited, or reflective is not an easy thing for me to digest to be honest. So when it happens on rare occasions I really try to let the moment sink in and let it expand. I really truly love this stanza of writing. It touches on so many moments of my own life, and any life I think. This is why I make art, to try to create things that reach out across time and through spaces to reach other souls. So here is my painting called Awakened Lifetimes:

Awakened Lifetimes by Ed Tajchman. © all rights reserved. 91 x 91 cm, acrylic on canvas.
Also I have some prose that accompanies the painting, (many of my poems are works in progress this is one of them). You can read that at the end of the post. I will say a little bit about it here: Life is much more then we see with our physical eyes. There are currents that run deeper and wider then any of us can imagine. The chance to experience these currents in our everyday lives is a great thing. I am always looking for opportunities of transformation. Ideas that challenge my thinking, amazing artists of all kinds, people, groups, projects, ways to learn and grow etc.

Accepting who you really are and all that you are and are not, and sharing and learning from others is one of the first steps on the road to knowing these kinds of experiences. The evolution of the soul is one of my primary goals in this life. Getting past personal ego and learning what you can in any situation is a tough concept sometimes but it is a great way to grow. There will be assholes and greedy people in your life. Rather then engage them, learn how to pacify their interest in you and take what you need to from them. You can learn how you do not want to act, by watching assholes, for example. Accept your limitations. Know them. Use them to your advantage by working around them appropriately, think about how they make you unique. 

Those were just some of the thoughts behind this painting, but I always want to hear what other people see in my art, that is more interesting for me to think about. So please leave your comments about what you see in the work on this post!

Awakened Lifetimes

How can a tree like me pray for remembering what the rain tasted like dripping from my branches onto my cheek and into my lips.

Tip toe-ing across the earth so tensely recoiled it can't remember to always stop moving so fast.

I love you so much and I am finally telling you now.

The sky said as I finally felt the joy of my thunder speaking.

How long had I spent searching I can't remember.

It was raining moments of our souls, fragments of awakened lifetimes pouring outwards everywhere at the same moment, in all places at all moments.

But what if I forget how to run frantically in the night's thunder? How long will it be until I remember again?

One Time it does matter.

-Ed Tajchman

Visions From the Shadow Self

Constantly rambling, barely murmuring, knowing every reflection's echo.
Cracks in the cement, cracks in a skull. Holes in the side of a ship gaining water.

The sky over the plains is as vast, and forever wide as the emptiness of the heart's chamber.
Do not ever be afraid to take what you want from yourself when you know better.

Red star sparkles in the dark blue sky, endless rolling hills ask why.
Wind howls across the ears pushing all in its way, what is it trying to say?

Prophecies seen when the dream which happens first, takes hold.
Ancients seize the bodies of brothers from this age I am told.

Time spent trying to please others leaves the face devoid of warmth.
Friends lie, fathers die, no one holds a breath for your face.

Building a dream alone a child never stopped stacking and wandered far.
Always lost, late, broken, and giving everything, still quaking in fear.

No one speaks the language of a soul no matter where he speaks it.
Crying such a deep tremor inside knowing it reaches the farthest depths.

Be careful if and who you wait for, intentions hold a myriad of reflections.
More powerful alone in a mind or in a crowd, what you see and selected.

-Ed Tajchman

Ancient Goddess Ode

In the ocean of a mind's lifetime dwelt the memory of how the light in her eyes caused a frost to melt. Revealing the heart of one who fought so hard to be true so long ago. It was not that light in those eyes, it was the possibility that dwelt within.

In an unthinkably dark forest. Lost in the woods in winter to find a quiet, if cold and dark paradise, waiting in stillness. Embrace Morena's cold touch on my cheek, see her beauty and be in awe of it, as she comes to me, smiling and powerful.

-Ed Tajchman

Painting: "Full Moon at Pomona" by Ed Tajchman

This is a recent painting of mine called Full Moon at Pomona. There is a lake a couple hours away from where I live called Pomona Lake. Pomona is an ancient Goddess of fruit trees. The figure in the painting is using his mind to see (the hand coming out of his mind), as full moon rays shine down around him. His eyes are like mirrors with no pupils (adding to the idea of him using his mind to see). The beauty of the full moonlight puts a spell on him. The staff in his right hand is a recurring symbol in my paintings. It is a fancy version of a Neptune style staff (Poseidon). The man is a guardian of knowledge, the staff is a symbol of power and responsibility. The man is in black and white because he is a work in progress, he is trying to transcend his dualistic nature and become something more then that.

Full Moon at Pomona by Ed Tajchman. Acrylic on Canvas 2013© all rights reserved.

The Cat, Coyote, and the Frogs

Calibrated curiosity found three ways to skin the cat. Around here meticulous tin-men still look for feelings as on-lookers stand pat. Handing out rays of shifting colors, lifted gaze fixed upon overlapping textures in all ages of the mind's dwelling. Torn pages define the telling signs, reminded in each word falling between the lines. Rusted bird watches the ants crawl into the dirt, as I scrawled into the cement until it hurt. Knuckles bloody knees muddy, head rising, surprising how much is left, all out of breath as the carafe comes to the lips.

The hills closed in on the coyote as darkness fell over the pink and orange sky. Wandering the same paths, smelling feint glimpses of females dodging his scent until it suits them, avoiding all the regular foes, same mud on his ever tightening toes, same empty belly rumbling as he stumbles into his den. A new form of quickness will humble his prey, he must fight to stay alive in this world. Rings of light consume the imagination's concentration, forcing focus on everything outside of himself.

Captivated onlookers gasped at the dancing five fingered frogs, robs your soul as you walk away the coiled mind avoids your hind sight. Like on a kite soaring in the sky the focused attention creeps into your skull through vibrations mulling in your own thoughts. Are they your thoughts now? Or does the membrane of the fascinated amphibians deliberate corralling stare more then dare you to stand and feel more from them?

-Ed Tajchman

Yerba Mate - Great Drink, but Not a Magic-Health Elixir

There seems to be a Yerba Mate trend happening in the United States and as someone who has done a lot of research in this area I want to point out a few facts. I honestly love drinking Mate it is a great drink/herb. But I have come across some people giving samples at the store that did not have their facts straight. Yerba Mate contains caffeine, just like coffee or tea and this is the main effect it has, every other supposed health benefit is sales talk.

Yes, small amounts of anti-oxidants are present but there are also anti-oxidants in green and black tea, and even coffee has some anti-oxidants. Also many studies indicate that heavy, heavy daily use among South Americans (who drink it a LOT) can cause cancer. Studies not only with the population, but with the herb itself, show it has carcinogens. Enjoyed a few times a week with friends - awesome. Drinking it heavily every day - probably a bad idea. The are no magic health effects from it that tea or coffee don't already offer. Not here to burst bubbles only to spread the facts.

I encourage you to do your own research as I have. You will come across two bodies of information. One set (the sales people) have put out sites masquerading as health sites etc. that proclaim the health benefits and magic properties of yerba mate. The other set of information you will come across will discuss the chemical structure and active ingredients in the herb. This second set of information will also discuss the many studies that have show it has carcinogens when consumed in large amounts. So beware of the first set of false information that is out there and base your judgment in the scientific studies.