Morro Rock (9-16-2024)
I was blind when I first saw Morro Rock. It was nothing but a pile of rocks, a minor mount sitting in the surf at the central California coast. But the third time I saw the same rocky mount, my eyes molted. I thought of Mount Fuji, of Mont Sainte-Victoire, mountains celebrated in art. But here, time had eroded away the pleasing outward features and it laid bare the hard granitic core that had endured for 26 million years. It was the soul of the volcano, solidified, revealed. I was looking at the very source of the creative force.
That night, I wrote the poem "Morro Rock" and envisioned the series "Ten Views of Morro Rock."
Herlinde Spahr. Notebooks
Ten Views of Morro Rock. 2
Ten Views of Morro Rock 3
Ten Views of Morro Rock 5
Ten Views of Morro Rock 6
A Looping Vision (8-17-2024)
I finished the sixth tondo. I move from image to image in silence, as if words, writing, might break the spell. We have no language native to our inner world. The turmoil of the mind must borrow from nature its storms and darkening skies to depict a semblance of a soul in crisis. But as we borrow, we humanize the outside realm, a looping vision that at last will fuse two disconnectred worlds. While Morro Rock appears densely black in thhis last tondo, it is still a gift to an artist reaching out to nature to find a shape and presence that resonates within.
Herlinde Spahr. Notebooks