CHARLOTTE (HOUSE OF HORSES)

-OILGRAPH ON WOODEN PANEL-

 

STAY

(OILGRAPH ON WOODEN PANEL)

"But we were the children of rage don't forget...

We fought the wind
Planted stakes to hold the Now
Tore all the histories to shreds

But the wind took the tatters
The stake was fogotten
And history wrote us with no special note
into the past

Nothing is new
Except that we lived

And age is a grace
Writing us a story for our time
Blue azure and dark
reminders of time
time passing
time unyielding in it's waves
time to start...

We crumble to seed the storm
this invisible war
a player at last
on a relevant stage..."
k. rolly

alexi - light and dark

And the Black Ice

"And I found you
like black ice
like the whirling horizon
winter and no brakes
wrapped around your tree..."

-k. rolly

Nights (That aren't night at all really)

These Wars...

THESE WARS...

"And so they go...

Draw a line
Draw it again

Carve into the table
a map
for the next time

which cries out
like something in the woods
unseen but known

Burn all the candles
Sew shut the curtains
Someone is always hungry...

And you
of the November eyes
and the calvary of hands
crucifixion and nails
tearing curtains and promise
(i know this sound)
give way to a winter
for there is a spring

These wars...
(no proud banners)
These wars...
(another year)"
-k. rolly

oilgraph on wooden panel with text
10x8

new work
old story

Rewriting the Map

"And I never asked
for the keys to the car
or the secrets in the jar

But we left
2AM and west
West of All That Mattered
all we chose not to remember
all we left to starve
all we remembered yet
and put fire to fire to

rooms of the aged and rose
scent crying in the curtains
books half finished
dinner in the kitchen

Too late and too
much for two
to bear

But bear we did
and cross the borders
flying town with it's night dogs
night scent night winds night
never with arms long enough to hold
never and we are still young aren't we?

we are and we
still have your father's watch
still have time and
forty-eight bucks till Kentucky...

4AM
and the radio
gives up it's voice
again hisses
staccato over ocean
the sound of a slow tearing dress
the sound
between sounds

Bare feet on the dashboard
Sleep and I
will wake you I
will promise you I
will never let him hurt you again..."
-k. rolly

small recent oilgraph
from a 12 year old photo
and extemporaneous verse
that I won't read till tomorrow morning

When the Map Vanishes...

So last night I set out to shoot something that had been lurking in my brain for some time now. I wanted to do a Last Supper. But with all developmentally disabled adults. Which was what happened.

It was absolutely nothing like I expected....

First it was a challenge just getting there. The facility was in Corona and traffic was insane.

I met Colleen, one of the directors, who set up and organized the entire event and we walked through what was going to happen…not that this was actually possible.

So at 6:30 these amazing individuals come in. Their disabilities cover a wide spectrum. Some like John (who we chose as Jesus) were incredibly social and communicative and some were nearly unresponsive and non-verbal. Some could walk, some could not. You know the saying "Men make their plans and God laughs?" I was prepared for this to go off the map, but I didn't expect the map to be dispensed with altogether right out of the gate.

The first thing I realize is that any moment of solemn focussed silence was immediately out the window. There is nothing silent about the vast majority of the group. The second thing I discover is that they love having their photos taken. This however entails grinning broadly at the camera and yelling, "CHEESE!"

Then on the first shot, my camera dies. The shutter doesn't even close. It's probably the battery and my spare is now mysteriously gone. I had shot with it just fine 24 hours ago and now it is totally inoperable. The staff is all behind me and we laugh as I keep muttering to myself, "Ok, you're a professional, think of something."

John politely reminds me, "Kevin, I'm waiting VERY patiently. VERY patiently, Kevin!" I have my digital but that wasn't going to cut it for the size I wanted to do it and besides this requires film. I have no 35mm film, so that leaves me with the Holga.

The Holga is an $11 plastic camera that has seen better days. The shutter is a simple spring and over the past year has become rusty so it often doesn't fire. It's also missing a clamp to keep it perfectly shut.
But it's all I have.

So I load it and shoot, clamping the loose back shut back with my fingers. Half a dozen of our group find the strobe going off the funniest thing in the world. I shoot a frame then there is a chorus of giggling and laughter. For what it's worth, they are having the time of their lives. I on the other hand am thinking this is never going to work. For them everything becomes new every 4 seconds or so. I'm shooting a party watching fireworks with a leaky plastic camera. I keep shooting and quite honestly I have no idea what I'm doing anymore.

John has been clutching the bread in his hands for about ten minutes now. I have him hand it out.
"Here's some bread, Joshua! Here this is for YOU, Debbie!"
Some eat, some look at me. A woman holds a rag in her teeth. I am in an ocean. I am both moved, bemused and trustingly resigned. This, in my parlance, was an obvious God thing.

We finish up. By this point I have it or I don't and we've pretty much come to the end of how long they can sit in place. They begin to head back to their rooms and give me hugs. It was the shoot that I officially had the least amount of control or influence in.
As a final earthy punctuation, I discover someone's accidentally peed on my Bible.

I think I shot 4 rolls. Maybe 5. And I have no idea whether any of it is going to turn out let alone work. It may not. I haven't even looked at the digital. I'll develop the film today and then I'll know. It may be that this was all to have them have a great night. But it may also be like Good Friday when all of our power went out and people picked up candles to view the Stations. You are forced to make different, unthought of choices because your initial ones are taken away. I'm about as removed from the process as possible. Which I believe is also the point….

I'll know soon enough....


[Update]

From the time I wrote this last night, I developed all of the film.
Every frame came out.
It's there.

Now the work begins...


From "Broken - The Last Supper" (Possible future detail shot)
-WIP-

"The walls were never high enough And the guards asleep Dreaming of astors or fire veined breasts Surrender or plunder The outcome is always the same" ENCAUSTIC OILGRAPH ON WOODEN PANEL 17X5 model:marlo

THE DIVORCE - I
-EXPIRED POLAROID 55 - WEDDING DRESS AND SCISSORS-
2:30 AM

What Remains (KJ)

"and to crush
underfoot

seedling and fence
or fawn in its dreaming

beckon beckon fire
upon me upon
him in his taking

upon waking sudden
in my violence
ripped from
sleep
demon in my throat
hoarse in its defense
to

wall you
from me
from him
from the dying aster
taken in its blooming
and carved with petal screaming
name upon name
your name

and i
eaten like
bitter honey
trespass
upon your tongue"

oilgraph - small

Soon We Will Remember

not easy in these days
with the weather breathing cotton
a brutality of softness
everything losing its edge

even you

i long for a razor of light
anything

and i will cut this blanket of slumber
from our bodies
to wave like a flag
in the sweltering dawn

surrender to a victory we abandoned
or reclaim the field
once again
this first love

i left in the rain

unmounted oilgraph - 7x5

Lets See How...

Nowhere left to go - you and I
But I'll take the wheel
This one last time

And let's see how fast this thing can go...

oilgraph on fast paper

Even Until

EVEN UNTIL
PERE LACHAISE - PARIS

Things ok that are not ok

"it's why we move
or go
to paris
to austin

filling wells that empty here
our little buckets of hope

love defeats us
sometimes when
invisible hands
curl fingers round
a memory we held
in a picture frame in our heart
to send longing into the wind

there are things ok
that are not ok
for books
that are unfinished
write forever before us
stories not to know until

in quiet spring
paris or austin
a river will give up its mystery
break vermilion and aster
onto our tongues

sing now
of empty frames
of us in pretty light
or when the wind returns
what is ours"

theory labs on a cold afternoon
film in rodinal - 35mm - los angeles

For the Taking

FOR THE TAKING (MICHELLE)
POLAROID 55

WHEN THE DAY COMES
OILGRAPH - 10X8

Paper Wings - II

UNMOUNTED OILGRAPH - 8x7

What Lasts