Poetry

A Crop of New Experimental Poems

nobody@vox.com(Lucy) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 17:46:47 -0700

It is

break open the light

let it spill

into your open mouth

sing of holy

cataphonics

your sound comes back

to your timpanum

break open the red

ruby stopper

to the genie jar

it is really an apple

ripened and holy

it is yours

it is a baby

with skin

red as a lobster

it is your need

come to life

The Woman in the Hallway

clitter-clatter upon the linoleum

rap-a-tap-tap

the women walk in heels

the swish of their dresses and skirts

mesmerizes

I focus on the one with

the tallest heels

gold chains about her ankles

the shoes are red

her dress is dark blue

and her skin is very white

she is a walking American Flag

What a pretty girl she croons

and looks down at me

knowing I must

want to be her

her hair swept back

yet dry as dead grass

a fire-hazard

I wonder if she will burn
in the halo of sun around her

As she walks away

my father grips my hand in

his, which is cold and sweaty

a mossy rock

a dead mouse

Observation of the Numbing Procedure

It is his drinking hour

the red hour

of the sun's going down

behind the peeling house next door

and morning doves warble

perched on thin trees'

wooden fingers

Early Spring

before his birthday

I know not to fall in with him

at the formica table

I peer from the other room

as the light fades to silver

and his face takes on

the white look

of an animated dead man

There is no indication

that he is floundering

against the freezing

of his nerves

as he sinks down

7/2009, Seattle, Lucy Simpson

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BEHIND THE SILENCE... Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist

nobody@vox.com(Aszalos Family Art) — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 14:29:11 -0800

Dear Everybody,

I am Andrea Angelika Aszalos, writer of the novel

BEHIND THE SILENCE... Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist (published by Bastogi - 2008 - Italy) and I am presenting on this Blog site a very important part of my life: my Mother's, Éva Aszalós and my Sister's, Hajnalka Aszalós', works of art of porcelain-painting, and the oil paintings of my Mother. Synopsis of the novel and link to the story of the Moonlight and the Eosin glaze follow below

My mother and my sister are porcelain-painter artists and have made many sacrifices so that could be born that singular world that I am presenting on this blog-site to you. For these ”sacrifices” and struggles for the survival that are behind this World of Beauty, I’ve written the novel by the title ”Behind the Silence”, which has been published in June 2008 by an Italian publishing house.

I recommend the Synopsis of this revealing Novel and every world of my letter with all of my belief in the moral force, to your attention and to the attention of everybody who has love in their heart and who are thirsting for the rarely appearing pure mirror of the naked truth about a world that is not allowed to seen by some interests.

Artistic Album of the Familiar Collection

Published in November 2009

Artistic Album edited in 2009

The Artistic Album, that includes 148 pages, and many photographs about the Familiar Collection, is published in English and in Italian languages in this month (november 2009) thanks to a sponsors, and I am so gald to can share it with you as for my family it is a very great gift from life and from God!

Over presenting the works of art of porcelain-painting, it introduces also my Mother's and my Sister's oil paintings, some biographical informations about my Mother's artstic career and important words about Feelings and Thoughts regarding some of the works of art of the Familiar Collection. ... and of course through the synopis of my novel "Behind the Silence... Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist" it brings closer to You and to the Readers of this marvellous book including so many miracles, the atmosphere in which these talkative works of art had been born.

It will be possible to order this beautiful Album before this Christmas in Italian book-shops, and from my family as well, and I am so glad to can share it with you.

With much love:
Angelika & Family

Film with music about the Aszalós Porcelains

About three years ago I promised my mother that a day I would take a pen, and write down the situations, that so many times has crossed our life - and also in themselves could be material of a sketch or a short story - and which are derived from my mother's and my sister's rare profession and from the strange social and "art-political" atmosphere, by which is characterized this little country. At that time I didn’t thought that this "moment" would come so early, and could become pressing for our life.

Horse among poppies

I can present on this site only a little part of the work of a whole life, and so the Familiar Collection made up in the long years, which contains more than 700 works of art. Among these works of art that has been being internationally signed on the world for more than 10 years, there are many irreplaceable items, presented at that time also in the National Museum of the Applied Arts of Budapest.

Behind the Silence... Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist

The novel I have written (Behind the Silence… Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist, - June 2008 Bastogi) elaborating real events, is based on documents and correspondences, and touching some personalities of huge influence, presents, through my Mother’s life, the defenceless situation of the contemporary artists of our days for the economic policy, and how do the fights of interests, arising from this, ruin the life of some wonderful artists and persons.

For the last years’ happenings neither for moral points of view nor for other reasons there was no other choice for my family but to disclose to the World all that things that my family had to live through this singular and rare field of art in the peculiar social and ”art-political” atmosphere that characterize Hungary. …and so to describe all those things that are hidden Behind the Silence.

Moonlight

The events written in my novel affect my family’s life even today in a very hard way and I am recommending to your attention the story of the Moonlight glaze – so the story of the pair of the world-famous Eosin glaze, that my Mother after 100 years discovered again and whose technology, just like by the Zsolnay family at that time, also by my Family is kept under a secret.
See more details about the Moonlight-glaze's importance and story :

Moonlight and the Eosin - Paralells and History,

In my Family's collection there are included also the works of art belonging to the category of the art treasures, made with the technolgy of the ”Moonlilght” glaze (so with the pair of the technology of the world-famous Eosin glaze that the inheritor factury of the Zsolnay manufactury of one hundred years ago, by today can’t reproduce in its originally form).

Artistic Album of the Aszalós Porcelains

I am presenting on this blog also some of the photo-documents belonging to our references beside the titles of the chapters of ma novel that you can read below.

Unfortunately by today my mother has been suffering in a serious, incurable auto-immune disease for four years, and she is kept in life by very hard medicines, and so, also due to this fact, many things in her life have a deeper meaning for her.

Many Thanks for your attention and for your comments on a Whole Life's Work filled with heart, lived with the passion of an Artist who has given her life entirely to her work and to her loved Ones:

Andrea Angelika Aszalós Write to me to My e-mail

Synopsis of the novel Behind the Silence, follows below

Message to a kind friend: For a while I can't receive all of my e-mails! I thank you if you try to contact; me in an other way !!

PHOTOGRAPHS & ARTISTIC ALBUM of the Aszalós Porcelains

Words of Éva Aszalós:

I believe that God cares for Everyone and will care for, and think also to us, to my

dear family!

Synopsis of

Behind the Silence…

Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist.

Behind the Silence... Confessions of a porcelain-painter artist

My novel, which I have written on the basis of documents, correspondences and my mother’s memories, stands on a lived life’s real events.

It’s about my mother, about a beautiful, but by today broken person’s feelings, of a peculiar lot, and about the events hiding behind them. In the mirror of these, I show how the Politics – demanding part also from the values of Art – make impossible and sentence to death a family in the country of a tragically incompatible nation with its own sons. Through the peculiarities of the Hungarian society’s different strata, I present the contemporary art’s position in our time; the condition of the contemporary artists, who are at the mercy of the ”Fews’ interests”; and the invisible court of law, that shutters some wonderful artists’ life, annihilating them in their human quality. Within the contemporary art, I introduce my readers into that rare branche of Art, on which nearly three-hundred years ago emperors and bishops spent enormous wealths, and which even now is famous for its prestige all over the world: in the unbelievably colourful World of the Porcelains, full of intrigues, which is honoured by the name „White gold”;.

My novel, as I’ve written, is about my mother, about a delicate woman’s tempestuous course of life full of vicissitudes, whom God has given a present to, with some very exceptional endowements, and filled her heart with many love, belief and spiritual force, so that she could struggle against the dams ruining with slow death of a soured society by its own poison. Her singular sensitivity and the special field of art where her unusual skill has carried her, made her know and see many human faces, which meetings has brought in her life many pleasure, but also many suffering.

In one of the highland villages of a strange and formerly leggendary nation, settled in the Center of Europe not much more than one-thousand years ago, is born in the january of 1956, in the year of the revolution ended in massacre, that young girl, who is forced by her environment to escape already when she is a child, at hardly thirteen years old, so that she could ”arrive” as far as possible from the reality which has conducted her family to tragedy that cost her mother’s life. For her mother’s desire expressed in her ultimate letter, she is raised further on, in a small town at her uncle, where she has to face many cruelty alone. Notwithstanding, this town brings her also those meetings of her life, which give her a spiritual force which seems invincible, and a belief which doesn’t know impossible, for her further struggles. Two loves, lived for a life, carry her on in a two-faced world’s maze: the Porcelain-pinting, whose art she acquire in this place, and a strangely ”double-souled” Man, with whom she forms the most holy bond, and founds a family. Her first daughter, Hajnalka is born here, just like her desire, becoming into decision in her soul, to breake with her past again and definitively.

She moves into the beautifully situated Szeged, in the Great Hungarian Plain’s loveliest town, famous for its cultural life and for the high standard of the musical education, so that she could give to her children everithing that she missed in her youth. Andrea, her second child is born here, and she is seduced by an other very nice profession, by the fashion, which she start in with the same enthusiasm and pleasure, with which at that time she did the painting of pictures and porcelains. After the alternation of relatively balanced and tempestuous periods, after successes and enormous failure at the end, finally she returns to the Porcelain-painting, to that her dream which has been always living in her. The financial conditions to found an independent porcelain-painter studio are given to her only by this time.

Into the secrets of this splendid craft, which preservs tradition, but still includes in itself renewal, she introduces her first-born child, Hajnalka, and in few years is born a promising, fabulous and rich world by their hands. Spellbound by the Secessionist style, she works out colours which, with their profundity and peculiar light-refraction, are entirely unique on the world, and in the years, she discovers the producition-method of the world-famed glaze named Eozin, which has been being kept as secret since one hundred years, and to which she gives the name of Moonlight (Holdfény) because of its mysterious glittering of metallic lustre, shining in the most beatiful tints of the green colour, and for her respect for Vilmos Zsolnay.

She has high hopes for the porcelain-painting: she feels from the ”beginning” that it means for her the ultimate possibility of put in order her daughters’ and her own life. And she doesn’t think that, with the beautiul craft, she is happened in a ”viper’s nest” climbing until the highest social strata, which is invisible, far and maybe incredible for many people, but for her is inevitable, mortal and mortally real. Her Mother-country, this country unable to restore itself to health maybe for ever, whose history was full of vicissitudes, cause her more and more disappointment. In other form: slipped into more decorated garment, concealed behind new faces’ new masks, but she meets the same forces which has exiled her from the little highland village.

Under the burden of an incurable disease, forming in her meanwhile, and because of the glacial air of the shutting doors’ wind, her great belief and spiritual force leave her more and more.

The last year’s struggles mean for her, life or death in the real meaning of the word.

Written and translated by: Andrea Angelika Aszalós Phone: + 36 20 311 3800

Published by Bastogi Editrice Italiana in June of 2008

Chapters and some of the Photo-documentations:

The Tragedy ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

The years of Kalocsa: two Loves born to living for a life,,,,,,

Visit of the Premier in 2000, Szeged & Exhibition in 2007 - Szeged

A new chapter in my life

The town of Szeged and my second-born child, Ancsa ,,,,,,

Love: Redemption or Cross ,,,,,,,,

The dream and the reality

The limits of the Nature ,,,,,,,

The Lot sealed ,,,,,,,

A wrong decision and their consequences ……

Foundation of a porcelain-painter studio …

Exposition in the Embassy of the Republic of Hungary, in Vienna …

Ray of hope

Exclusive Gallery of the Aszalós Porcelains …….........

Prize of "Master's of Artisan Artists of the County of Csongrád"

”The_Moonlight” …………

Shine and tears

A beautiful porcelain exposition at the Days of Szeged and the visit of the delegation

of the government …………..

A tiny fruit of the struggle of power: the Prize of ”Honoured artisan-artist’s” of the County

of Csongrád …………………………………………………………………………

The Prize of the ”Honoured artisan-artist’s of Hungary”…………………………….....................................................

Calculations

My life on the ”chemist’s scales” of my husband …………

Newspaper articles and diplomas of appreciation

Touching of the Past ………………

The fatal contract …………………………

A mysterious man or fight for the life ……….

Gift from a person wasn’t known ………

The hand of God ……

The human dignity …

Refusal and Hope ……

A morsel for the Survival !

I offer the works of my life ……

The Madam Judit

An old dear acquaintance of mine ……

Visit of the Ambassador of Mongolia at our exhibition in Kunszállás

An art-patron billionaire in Hungary ………

Cry for help ………………

The Support …………

Questions and answeres ……

The Mask thrown ……

The telephone-call at late in the evening ……

The fight of the Billions ……

The Christmas saying good-bye …........

Memories from the Past

Some present thrown away and some other which cannot be taken away ….......

Dietro il Silenzio...Confessione di un'artista di pittura di porcellane - INTERNET_BOOK_SHOP. it

Artistic Album of the Aszalós Porcelains

Horse among poppies

Death of Christ

"One builds sand-castle on the shore only if he or she believes that waves can be domesticated."

Aszalós Porcelain Art - ALBUM 2009 - Feelings and Thoughts... works of art of a Life

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"LA LLEGADA DEL SOL NACIENTE"

nobody@vox.com(Corbijn Mani) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 08:43:41 -0800

Me gustaría algo imposible
...sol y noche...
aprovechar los rayos
distantes de mi...
tan cerca el calor inminente...
que oriente y occidente se hermanen...
tengan vivos todos los jardines...
cubiertas todas las necesidades de luz.
...................El sol
solitario de las nubes
con surcos de firmamento y
Eternamente soportado
a través de los siglos,
iluminas todos los planetas,
calientas a los pobres
manos y mentes
en la luz de las Iglesias
entre su cortada piel
de sombras y rincones al sol,
eres primavera y verano...
otoño e invierno...siempre un Sol...
siempre estarás para mí,
nunca "moriras" sin dejar
sorpresas en nuestra Tierra y
en el mar...y
luego pensaré fuerte
en un arcoiris
en las madre selvas,
en sus flores blancas
el sol...
todo lo crea y desarrolla,
Aunque esté dentro de casa
rezaré por una larga vida
por su llegada a la mañana
por su descanso en la noche.

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"LA TURBA DE LA NADA""UN SUEÑO EXTENSOR"

nobody@vox.com(Corbijn Mani) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 14:51:15 -0800

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P1400050bis

Baile_050

Me encontré con un Alfred ufano,¡sano!
ante el frío de la tarde en invierno.
Yo venía de tusar un caballo,
trasquilar sus crines,
él venía de podar la Tuya gigante,
arbusto americano,
de follaje ornamental.
¡Uf!,yo estaba cansado,
no soportaba la turba,
alterar el estado natural,
de mi vida tranquila,
me confundía y aturdía y...
Alfred siempre me irrumpía,
con su patético orgullo enaltecedor.
El exterior de la Estación estaba turbio,
la lluvia impetuosa,con viento,
creaba un ambiente sospechoso,
y mi mirada necesitaba luz,
un café y una voz perfecta...
actuar,comportarme con cariño,
con las personas...
pero con Alfred el trato era distinto,
injurioso,despectivo y terminé por ignorarlo...
su categoría social media,
de clase obrera y otras circunstancias,
mediaron un viaje sin esperanzas,
intenté dormir ya en la madrugada,
leyendo "La máscara blanca",
en la portada,
de la que hice a lápiz,
el rostro de una mujer enigmática y...
silencioso y hierático,
fuera del tiempo,
me dejé dormir.

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Night Swim

nobody@vox.com(Lucy) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 18:24:18 -0800

Night Swim

Cracked patina of night

Holy orifices of mollusks

Open on the dark shore

Sing the moon to sleep

And I am swimming

Lap lap lap

My feet pad the water

My arms reach out

Like living oars

It is night

And I am going

Lucy Simpson

Seattle

11/2009

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"LA GRAN ODISEA DE LA VIDA"

nobody@vox.com(Corbijn Mani) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 13:55:54 -0800

El hoy...no llego a apreciarlo,
Siempre que me pongo a pensar en ello...
es como si no pudiera adelantar acontecimiento.
No logro disociar los tiempos nuevos...
La gran Odisea de la vida,
contada en diversas personalidades...
...Al que sólo gusta vivir intensamente,
y anualmente en sus sueños viajar,
en un galeón de Manila si acaso,
a una playa Ibérica llegar...al sureste,
donde hace más calor en Marzo...
De España me gusta el Mediterraneo...
("De América del Norte el lago Hurón,
porque allí vivian los indios hurones")...
Mi mar es un mar cálido,
al que temo encontrar tranquilo e indiferente...
...Mares Jónico,Adriático y Egeo,
más compartimentos para el Mar Mediterraneo,
que gracias a la construcción del Canal de Suez,
siguió calentando y navegando lleno de belleza,
Finalmente tropiezo con el mito de Medusa...
leyendo me imagino,en la playa,
una Gorgona,cuya mirada es mortal,
Perseo le cortó la cabeza,
cubierta de serpientes y de aquí nació Pegaso,
otro ser mitológico........................................
De enorme fuerza y hermosas alas,
digno del más culto y loco nacimiento...
"Entre la sangre de Medusa,nació un caballo con alas."

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Dear Generation

nobody@vox.com(kay.furano) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 14:33:13 -0800

Dear Generation,

or however you would like to call yourself; after all, you lack a name just as you lack direction. Drowned in the wealth of your ancestors, you pride yourself on the achievements of your forefathers, citing as your greatest victory not the victory over yourself, but over countries you've never set foot in, let alone fought for. Gone are the times of libraries and dances and poems and philosophy; your libraries are homeless shelters, your dances late-night TV shows, your poems advertising slogans and your philosophy materialism. Not the outcasts, the loners, the freedom seekers, are your heroes; you deem them ragged and cling to tin gods of fallen pop starlets and movie stars instead.

Your life is so simple: everything you do or see appears to be directed toward the one purpose that is procreation, from the clothes you see in your local shopping mall to the alleged importance of monetary possessions you are educated to believe. You gorge on careerist idols and regurgitate domestic ideals, are encouraged to fabricate flawless families and machinate your own mediocrity.

In this light, your life is equally complicated. What it is you are toiling for you are not really sure, but under the pretense that the familiar is superior to the unknown, you live with neither explanation nor purpose. You not only march in the suffocating shadow of the bourgeoisie you yourself have created, but worship it mindlessly as the ultimate "thing-in-itself". You define your value not, as you like to claim, by who you are, but by who others think you are.

Please Generation, switch off that TV, log off that networking site. Put down your diplomas and qualifications for just a second. Satisfaction isn't on the road to anything; satisfaction is the road. The prayers you speak now may seem non-committal, but the sacrifices you will make are human.

K.F.

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"HOY CÓMO AYER"

nobody@vox.com(Corbijn Mani) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 15:35:31 -0800

Hoy como ayer,
vivimos todos en territorios ordenados...
porque dependemos los habitantes,
de un poder central,
muy sofisticado,realmente,
con un clima que oscila,
entre invierno frío y
cálido en verano...
También llueve y respectivamente,
los ríos y los valles,mesetas,montañas,
se conservan verdes,espectaculares...
que frescos manantiales,
qué agradable, buen tiempo.
En una primavera magestuosa,
de pájaros cantar por las tardes...
como en la mañana el mírlo,
y por la noche el murciélago,
los encuentro maravillosos...
Hoy sopla el viento fuerte,helado...
Estoy en casa tranquilo,calmado...
sólo se me ocurre esto:
"que la muerte todavía,
no ha venido de nuevo a visitarme...
Pero llegará sin duda,
asín es."

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Poetic Work in Progress on Dying

nobody@vox.com(Lucy) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 16:04:09 -0700

The sons have seen their father's naked

skins of ancient parchment

the blind fathers

the eyes' portals

curtained by a paste

the sons have brought water

to the cracked mouths

and wet towels

to the anus' flower

a cricket's song

comes out the throat

and every orifice opens

in preparation for the journey

Lucy Simpson, Colorado Springs, 6/25/05, revised 8/3/2009

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Arachne to her Lover (Work in Progress)

nobody@vox.com(Lucy) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 07:20:33 -0700

Arachne to her Lover

with your fingers

you stitch me up

with threads of light

this is the heart you know

that hid shyly

in its green husk

a nourishing sun

whose silk

could string a harp

so sweet

should my hands work it

those spider

appendages of bone

Lucy Simpson, Seattle, 8/17/2009

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