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Beyond The Mystery

Beyond The Mystery

I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”  I have often thought that mystery is at the heart of creativity. When we let go of process and we can fall into the stream of creating we express the curiosity of mystery.  For me, the act of sculpting carries a sacred resonance. I become the clay and the tools as my hands decipher dreams and metaphors. I become the symbols that I find on the bark of trees or swirling in the desert sands. I feed my clay my ideas and my thoughts, I linger in the ethers of an enigma, losing myself and finding myself ____ sculpting an elastic reality.  It takes a certain chaos to create, and the mystery is what is constantly unraveling before us. It spills out into our consciousness in frighteningly beautiful ways. It leads you to your soul. It is pain and pleasure, trouble and desire, disappointment and surprise. It is the amalgam of our sensory reactions that is necessary to open our eyes to what is possible.  It is not a coincidence that artists display a tendency to love and to demonstrate passion beyond the ordinary.  Art becomes the idea that we are beyond the swarm, beyond the everyday details of life. We want to take the viewer or the reader or the listener on an adventure. Travelling through our creations, we offer wings to the viewer, inviting them to soar beyond the confines of ordinary perception and into the vast expanse of imagination.  It takes courage to create, to tell your own personal truth, to be honest with yourself. It is the purity of truth that takes us into the deepest parts of ourselves. Truth has a life of its own. In this pursuit of truth, we are led to the deepest recesses of our being, where the purity of authenticity ignites a transformative journey. The senses of your soul will take you to new heights if you allow your preconceptions to dissipate. Tell the truth, shame the devil and never look back.  As artists, we are perpetual seekers of the ineffable, forever entwined with the allure of mystery, passion, and magic. We are drawn to the interplay of light and shadow, the juxtaposition of feathers and stones, the boundless expanse of sky meeting earth. In the words of Vincent van Gogh, "I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?" Let us continue to nourish our creative spirits with the sustenance of mystery, passion, truth, and boundless imagination. And if you  are not finding what you are looking for, maybe put your wings on backwards and see where they take you ____ they might just take you somewhere new.        R.I.P. Micha von Doring  © Gesso Cocteau 

Secrets Between Our Shadows and Our Souls

Secrets Between Our Shadows and Our Souls

Secrets Between Our Shadows and Our Souls   Surrounded by myself and the tall summer’s grass I lie still ____ and alone listening to the songs of the earth.   I am crawling through the underbrush of what use to be us ____ and even though you are gone the flowers remain.   I wanted more, I always want more my appetite exceeds my frame and I spill out into the visible world.   You knew I was insatiable you tried to temper me you were honest and kind and as your friend said ‘you were always ‘present’ ____ but I was afraid, and when you asked me what I believed in I turned away.   ( I believe ‘we have played along side millions of lovers’)   Perhaps we were, in some past life mythological lovers ____ I think sometimes we ask too much of one another.   ____ and so what if love dies over and over again.   (age after age the words of the poet fall from the past into the future, an eternal song of desire fueled by the ‘perfect moment’.   For now _____ my heart sings to the poppies as they cast their shadows upon my spine   ____ I call out to you____ you see me in this dream: I ask you to return my heart to my body so that I might feel again.   (God it is so humbling to be alive and sometimes I am so afraid my heart will break into a thousand pieces.)   In this fragmented dream you whisper to me ____ through the fields and the forest kissing my rough hands: ____the hands made strong by bronze, by pencil and by ink.   (My body stretches out to  reach you extended into this landscape ____ forever.)   Is all of this life a magical illusion?   When my eyes are closed I feel you making love to me   but then ____ the memories shift and I am moving slowly in my garden envisioning human suffering trying to remember your touch.   Maybe it is the poetry that saves me, ____ or perhaps the sun, this field, the forest or the moon.   For now I allow myself to feel the beauty of pain ____ to speak truth and to taste the flowers that seep into my veins.   I still love you you made me feel alive ____ and the lord of darkness reminded me that nothing can hurt me if I let go of everything that gives me pleasure.   You gave me breath honesty and love but I am not certain of spellbound hearts   and everything is so temporary ____   We are all in movement on our way to the unknown.   (Love is the ‘why’ of life.)   I lost you, now I love another ____ the one who gives fire to my soul,   but still I crawl through the fields at night beneath the goddess of love and silently I crave you.   These are the secrets between our shadows and our souls.              © Gesso Cocteau

Wildness

Wildness

About My Video 'Wildness' on Gesso Cocteau YouTube Gesso Cocteau YouTube Channel This is a celebration of wildness, where the primal meets the celestial, and where the untamed spirit of leopards and the boundless freedom of crows inspire us to live with daring sensuality. Leopards ladies and crows converge to weave a tale of untamed beauty, fearlessness and unbridled spirit. In this visual odyssey, these magnificent creatures symbolize the wildness within women – feral and untamed, this enchanted land that embraces passion, sensuality, and an unyielding connection to our precious Earth. This is a celebration of the uncultivated, where the primal meets the sublime, and where the fierce spirit of leopards and the boundless freedom of crows inspire us to live daringly and passionately. This is the raw, sensual force that pulsates with undomesticated and tameless courage.   The leopard, a manifestation of primal power, prowls with a predatory elegance, embodying the fierce and passionate nature that pulses through the veins of existence. Meanwhile, the crow, dark-winged and mysterious, becomes the harbinger of secrets and transformation, a symbol of the enigmatic depths of the human spirit. Ladies, both graceful and wild, entwine with these symbolic creatures in a subversive dance, birthing a clan that defies convention and societal norms. This is a celebration, a rebellious chorus that echoes the courage of the wild, inviting the audacity to be different, to embrace the untamed within. The symbolism of leopards and crows intertwines with the human experience, creating a discordant yet harmonious anthem that resonates with the primal and the mysterious. Stay wild and untamed;               

Thirst

Thirst

    Thirst   I was wondering about falling into you how it happened and the translucent way we carry one another from noiseless vowels to voluptuary adjectives and imaginary longing all wrapped around words, tongues tied to this craving.   Sometimes I am afraid that we won’t survive the material world. I dream our flesh rears itself up like predators in wet jungles and begin to feed upon one another with the appetite of starving animals.   Our hearts catch fire, and the water of our bodies becomes fluorescent fueling the thirst of blind seduction.   Something is leading me down this path something wants the words to turn to breath, something wants the wondering to taste the salt of flesh.   The trees in my garden have eyes shadows hiss at the light. Icy bodies by need circle the sun, my birds stay close watching me wait for you. © Gesso Cocteau

A Poet Falls In Love

A Poet Falls In Love

A Poet Falls in Love   It takes courage to live.   When the poem becomes so transparent you wonder if the reader can see the wounds inside your eyes ____ the sight that never heals.   Once I loved a man who came to me in a dream but my soul was divided   Once I loved another man who wanted my heart and was willing to pay for it in gold. I expected better from both:   ( a poet falls in love to write about it )   I break the bindings of my favorite poet’s books not because I want to but because of my need ____   ( every poets wants too much )   I wanted time so I refused to let my womb be used for anything except excuses.   I wanted love but my public confessions would always lay me down into a bed of blaze ____   (men want admission not disclosure)   ____ and if your lucky the ghost of your lovers won’t leave stones in your heart   It seems I am always rising from a war crawling into the arms of my youth.   It takes courage to live. © Poem: Gesso Cocteau © Art: Pete Berg  

Fragments

Fragments

Fragments   Where the darkness kisses the light and the light begs for forgiveness, where the split in time allows the shade of this shadow to sleep within his arms. Where once I lost sight of the beauty of wildness and our unharnessed rapture. Where I dreamt we were children and the wink of your eye became a door to our lives. Where I lost you and you would not return when I asked you why you whispered to me, “the void is where we find one another.” When the emptiness echoed with illuminated sight I saw fragments of myself. I became a witness to the rising of our lust. you remember now____don’t you? © Gesso Cocteau From 'STRANDED HEARTS'  An Anthology Of Love Poetry Art by Pete Berg for 'STRANDED HEARTS'  An Anthology Of Love Poetry

The Raven

The Raven

The Raven   I am the precipice of the mountain you are standing upon,   I am the feather that lands at your feet when you are alone,   I am the dream wrapped around you, holding you tight on a cold winter’s eve:   I am the moon catching you when you fall from the sky,   I am the song of the flower that kisses you good night,   I am the wildfire that burns between us.   I am the heart that goes on beating even when it is broken,   I am the kiss that bruises you, the lust that does not struggle.   I am the first time you fell in love from a distance:   I am the faithful and the betrayed, the unthinkable,   I am the silent lover, the starving lover, the lover who wants to be yours.   I am the unfinished stone you searched for in the quarry:   I am the naked earth who stands before you awaiting your hammer and your blade.   I am the poet, the sculptor and the shadow reading your words,   I am the dream between dusk and darkness,   I am the pathless woods the broken compass and the poetry lost in translation.   I was the one you were seeking   because I was seeking you.   I was the wildfire that burned between us.   ( Now )   I am the embers laying down in darkness.   I am temptation,   I am the raven.     Poetry and Art © Gesso Cocteau

'STRANDED HEARTS' HAS ARRIVED'

'STRANDED HEARTS' HAS ARRIVED'

A poet can only give her heart away once, the rest is observation. Poets are right to assume that love is eternal, and in a world of temporary things love is the immortal human experience. This is the poetry that sleeps between our love. May we always be bruised by beauty and touched by angels, but may we also be aware of our demons and our shadows, for the heart can only love in truth and these are the ingredients of the human condition.

STRANDED HEARTS

STRANDED HEARTS

SOON TO BE RELEASED - STRANDED HEARTS An Anthology of Love Poetry Written by Gesso Cocteau  Illustrated by Pete Berg    "Now I understand  the secret of redemption, I will never forget you. We are forever stranded hearts _____."