Monday, February 24, 2014

Some Men: A Poem by C.T.Rasmuss.

Some Men   C.T. Rasmuss, mixed media/juxtaposed-grayscale (2013).



Some Men

Taming doubt and mastering grand
illusions of the impossible,
do these factor in Mr. Keats;
into your theorem of consolation?
Beauty is truth, truth beauty”!
Some men need to know more.

Exploring an inexhaustible system of caverns
masked with lavish odors of tasty Mint Julip:
streams of relevant hopes cascade along,
emptying waste and spoils into an epicenter
of shipwrecked faith and smashed dreams.
Some men unfortunately drift out to sea.

Chronicles of captain's bliss, read softly aloud
upon vast lands of turmoil and vengeance;
all the while, its impressionable audience being
captured by sidewinder speeches, hissed by
forked tongues wrapped in corrupted silhouette.
Some men find themselves stranded ashore.

In the wake of God's infinite brilliance
it is beckoned to us all that:
Men shalt not live by bread alone...”
Perhaps because in a muffled den of thieves,
virtuous men would drop like flies!
Signal...Some men pray on their knees.

Endearing temptations to reach something greater:
souls of isolation steer clear into magnanimous wake.
Relentless subordination to fierce elements and tide,
the artist, records his findings with a naive brush;
attained destination is relevant, given with each stroke.
Some men go on, continue bailing out their boats.

Basking in a hypnotic Amber light, graciously cast
by smoldering embers, crackling, becoming internalized:
ashes continue piling into the outstretched urn of time.
Flickering from petrified dreams of youth, mortality gains
acceptance from its morality, with fully glazed eyes;
Some men wade in a pool of eternity.

Friday, February 7, 2014

Jackson Pollock: A Methodical Madman or Just A Madman?

She's Beautiful  C.T.Rasmuss, The Jackson Method (Feb. 2014).

Jackson Pollock seems to be a recurring theme for me, ever since I started devoting most of my efforts toward painting back in 2005, when was still living in my hometown, Flint, Michigan.  I took courses in painting at The University of Michigan-Flint; but largely I was self taught, 'Independent' as I prefer to be known, as some of the greats before me; I say "the greats before me" because like Pollock and other great artists, it's in 'our' blood to out do our predecessor's...

In my case I not only wish this, but I also wish to prove the critics against Pollock, wrong, that he wasn't a Madman, but in fact there was method to his madness; as I hope you can see in this post.  I aim to continue in this manner of documenting, as I dig deeper into this debate; what I like to call the: The Jackson Method, capturing the evidence w/o compromising the integrity of autonomy.

p.s. I hope to me joined by other professionals of my field as well as other fields that can help explain the implications and dynamism of The Jackson Method.

                                                                          Stage1:


Stage2:


Stage3:


Stage4 w/thumbnail:



Sunday, February 2, 2014

John Keats: Is This the Truth and Beauty you Imagined? A poem b y C.T.Rasmuss

Some Men  C.T. Rasmuss, India Ink/acrylic/pastels (2013).


First and foremost I'm an artist, and as an artist I give myself the freedom to express my intentions any which way I please!

Lately I've been working on a series which has nothing to do with which I wish to express via this 'blog'...what is..relevant is the poem which I've been working on, a poem which is intended for a local poetry contest.  

You see...writing/poetry is my White Whale, so I've devised a plan to pursue this eluded art-form as well as apply my strengths as a visual artist into another field; a sort of self satisfying experiment if you will, or more like a form of self validation as well as spiritual release, But as always I give my utmost attention to truth, beauty and Humanity(with God's blessing of course).


 Some Men (1st rough draft)

Taming Doubt and Mastering
Illusions of the Impossible,
Is this part of the truth and beauty 
we need to know of, Mr. Keats?

In the wake of God's infinite Brilliance;
it is told to us, "Men shall not
live by bread alone, but..."
perhaps in a world of thieves,
virtuous men would drop like flies!
Some men still pray on their knees.

The Chronicles of Bliss softly read
upon the lands of turmoil;
while it's impressionable audience
is captivated by speeches
of those corrupted silhouettes.
Some men are bailing out their boats.

Endearing to reach something greater
souls of isolation in magnanimous quake,
subordination to the fiercest elements,
an artist records his findings with a brush
attained destination is relevant with every stroke
Some men are stranded ashore.

In a system of bountiful caverns
masked with a lavish odor of Mint Julep
streams of irrelevant hope cascades along, 
emptying its spoils into the epicenter of 
smashed dreams and crushed faith.
Some men drift out to sea

In light of smoldering embers of mortality
flickering from petrified dreams of youth;
Some men choose to wade out eternity.

>click here< to see updated, Final Draft.