"Project: Last Chance Revelations"
By Aaron Huttie
Artist’s Statement
Of those that come first, the generation of passion, many become so protective of their ideals that they are close-minded – and soon die because they cannot change. Of those that follow in their wake, the generation of restraint, many become so carefree that they are apathetic – and soon die because they have nothing in life to strive for. Though nature forcibly moves in cyclic patterns, it is not a two-dimensional world in which we live. The true movement of the spirit coils upward, marking its progression with each revolution. Whether it does so in a positive or negative manner, a successful work of art should resonate with an individual. From their sense of sight or hearing they should feel its effect on their spirit. This resonance is independent of religious belief but simply appeals to human emotion. The creation of the piece should come from the artists’ need to speak and listen, if the piece does not – nothing will be communicated between the artist and the recipient of the art. Within my personal art, I try to envision a world where flawed people striving for perfection have a greater worth than those non-existent few that were perfect from the start. Tradition is only as important as the need for respectful and thoughtful remembrance of whom and what came before. I enjoy aspects of tradition within my art because it brings with it a heritage and home of sorts, but I feel free to let my craft wander on a whim at any given moment. I use my craft to sense and understand my internal-self as it reacts to the world around it of infinite complexity. And it is my hope that my works can resonate with you. Send Feedback to: (Aaron Huttie) parallaxsentinel@gmail.com |
Cast Away
Tides of one-way love Underneath the vast above, Leaves a man empty. |
Mountains
Earthen skyscrapers – Towering above the land Standing silent watch. |
Keepers of the Dragon
Silent flash of fire bound in steel, acting as the waiting hand of man. |
Valor (1st Perspective)
On the crowded earth
great nations enslaved by what’s necessary to sustain
religions of the siren, spreading the word of hate
nature succumbing to the vampiric aspect of man
In the cities no-longer nice
predators going for strolls in the parks and parking lots
good business replacing honest business
every man for himself
Within the broken mind of man’s experience – exists a lightless cave
writhing in conscientious shape, where man’s only defense is
the will to blindly walk forward
and the proper kind of courage.
On the crowded earth
great nations enslaved by what’s necessary to sustain
religions of the siren, spreading the word of hate
nature succumbing to the vampiric aspect of man
In the cities no-longer nice
predators going for strolls in the parks and parking lots
good business replacing honest business
every man for himself
Within the broken mind of man’s experience – exists a lightless cave
writhing in conscientious shape, where man’s only defense is
the will to blindly walk forward
and the proper kind of courage.
Valor (2nd Perspective)
The over crowded earth spins away from the setting day,
leaving the two in a lightless cave – blind to their future.
Flags are enslaved by what is necessary to sustain.
Faith ritualistically sacrificed on the altar of religion.
Abandoned by their families, he and she hold tightly
as the world changes around them unseen.
In the cities no-longer nice, in the public will no-longer good,
vampiric angels fight for scraps of what once was.
But they will still have each other, and the world still spins.
The over crowded earth spins away from the setting day,
leaving the two in a lightless cave – blind to their future.
Flags are enslaved by what is necessary to sustain.
Faith ritualistically sacrificed on the altar of religion.
Abandoned by their families, he and she hold tightly
as the world changes around them unseen.
In the cities no-longer nice, in the public will no-longer good,
vampiric angels fight for scraps of what once was.
But they will still have each other, and the world still spins.
Amazon’s Trinity
Cool night breeze flowing against my robes and hair
loud whispering waters washing my exposed feet.
Perilous journeys all, but I have not seen
my children’s grown-up faces. I have but this single torch
to show them the way home.
I am Lady Liberty.
Youngest sister and the least refined royalty
etiquette of the sword and speech keep me fit.
I dance to my passions, carefree and innocent.
Give me a chance and I will show you what liberty means.
I am Lady Columbia.
The brightness of the sun’s beauty has blinded my eyes
towards man, but bring me your tears and whisper me
your tales. In time, I promise all will be set right again.
Just don’t forget about me. No one visits me or writes.
I am Lady Justice.
Cool night breeze flowing against my robes and hair
loud whispering waters washing my exposed feet.
Perilous journeys all, but I have not seen
my children’s grown-up faces. I have but this single torch
to show them the way home.
I am Lady Liberty.
Youngest sister and the least refined royalty
etiquette of the sword and speech keep me fit.
I dance to my passions, carefree and innocent.
Give me a chance and I will show you what liberty means.
I am Lady Columbia.
The brightness of the sun’s beauty has blinded my eyes
towards man, but bring me your tears and whisper me
your tales. In time, I promise all will be set right again.
Just don’t forget about me. No one visits me or writes.
I am Lady Justice.
Fry’s Receipt
(2) 2% Milk – The kids play Super Smash Bros. on their Game Cube.
Dog Food – Bruno non-stealthily sneaks into the closet for a pair of shoes.
(6) T.V. Dinners – Fend for yourself except on family Sundays.
Vanilla Ice Cream – A crappy day at work.
Diet Coke – For another non-effective diet.
Romance Novel – Because he’s always gone.
(2) 2% Milk – The kids play Super Smash Bros. on their Game Cube.
Dog Food – Bruno non-stealthily sneaks into the closet for a pair of shoes.
(6) T.V. Dinners – Fend for yourself except on family Sundays.
Vanilla Ice Cream – A crappy day at work.
Diet Coke – For another non-effective diet.
Romance Novel – Because he’s always gone.
Striking Stone
Red and smooth cylindrical block suspended by heavy chain,
Rusted and cold. Flexing against unceasing transgressions of fist and foot.
Tension transferred from potential to kinetic.
Taming the aggressor.
While Everyman struggles with hardships – leaning on the compassion of a friend,
Waiting in swinging silence does Singleman live.
Striking of the stone, a collecting of freely given assets.
Somehow happier by his contribution.
Beginning with the sunrise, tides of human life dance on the shore.
Bowing before the great shadow of a larger force – the striking
Stone stands fast in its self-appointed place.
Simple sacrifice of one for a common good.
Frail as a plastic core sheltered by only a red cloth
Fastened over a few inches of Styrofoam.
The striking stone left spinning in the wake of a man, made
Tyrant – by his unwanted imperfections.
Tension transferred from potential to kinetic.
Taming the aggressor, and creating peace…
Red and smooth cylindrical block suspended by heavy chain,
Rusted and cold. Flexing against unceasing transgressions of fist and foot.
Tension transferred from potential to kinetic.
Taming the aggressor.
While Everyman struggles with hardships – leaning on the compassion of a friend,
Waiting in swinging silence does Singleman live.
Striking of the stone, a collecting of freely given assets.
Somehow happier by his contribution.
Beginning with the sunrise, tides of human life dance on the shore.
Bowing before the great shadow of a larger force – the striking
Stone stands fast in its self-appointed place.
Simple sacrifice of one for a common good.
Frail as a plastic core sheltered by only a red cloth
Fastened over a few inches of Styrofoam.
The striking stone left spinning in the wake of a man, made
Tyrant – by his unwanted imperfections.
Tension transferred from potential to kinetic.
Taming the aggressor, and creating peace…
The Important Things
The soldier kneeling before a fallen friend,
the mother holding her child in her arms,
the lost praying to be found,
the conspiring of honest men in dark times,
the girl leaning closer to an unsuspecting friend,
Revealed by only whispers…
The soldier kneeling before a fallen friend,
the mother holding her child in her arms,
the lost praying to be found,
the conspiring of honest men in dark times,
the girl leaning closer to an unsuspecting friend,
Revealed by only whispers…
What Occurs in the Field?
A many-aged soul walks alone in unfamiliar
land, in his hand he sees
sometimes a sword, sometimes a rifle.
But, in his hand he feels
a great weight antiquated by a history and
polished with an uncertain future.
In a sudden struck moment, he is comforted
by the appearance of brothers and sisters
but quickly becomes alarmed at the presence of others –
just beyond what he can see clearly.
In his calm, he knows them to be other brothers and sisters
of neighboring families – but somewhere amidst both sides
the great weight that burdens each,
forces their hands.
Somewhere amidst it all, a single flame flickers out of existence.
Unwanted knowledge depicts a small room filled with
thousands of candles red and blue and only enough air for a few.
Defiant cries of seeing-hearts lash out.
A many-aged soul walks alone in unfamiliar
land, in his hand he sees
sometimes a sword, sometimes a rifle.
But, in his hand he feels
a great weight antiquated by a history and
polished with an uncertain future.
In a sudden struck moment, he is comforted
by the appearance of brothers and sisters
but quickly becomes alarmed at the presence of others –
just beyond what he can see clearly.
In his calm, he knows them to be other brothers and sisters
of neighboring families – but somewhere amidst both sides
the great weight that burdens each,
forces their hands.
Somewhere amidst it all, a single flame flickers out of existence.
Unwanted knowledge depicts a small room filled with
thousands of candles red and blue and only enough air for a few.
Defiant cries of seeing-hearts lash out.
The End
Hours go by and the sky goes dark, dulling the hard music of life.
You reach for the keyboard, but your arm travels slowly
as if passing through a pool of dense water –
Tap tap. Tick… tap. Tock… tap…
And the feet, dragging of lead
as you move from one room to the next.
Mind gears grind
causing friction to thoughts.
The hallway sways 45 degrees and
washes back
like a boat, sliding down from the crest of wave.
Surrender to sleep, as if it was love.
Hours go by and the sky goes dark, dulling the hard music of life.
You reach for the keyboard, but your arm travels slowly
as if passing through a pool of dense water –
Tap tap. Tick… tap. Tock… tap…
And the feet, dragging of lead
as you move from one room to the next.
Mind gears grind
causing friction to thoughts.
The hallway sways 45 degrees and
washes back
like a boat, sliding down from the crest of wave.
Surrender to sleep, as if it was love.
The Citadel
The Citadel stood above all the rest,
Upon the crimson mountains
Upon the glistening lake
Upon the rolling plains;
The nation that put forth its very best.
Then the dark approached across the field,
Under the oppressive clouds
Under the evil banner
Under the setting sun;
The Citadel again the people’s final shield.
The sun went down no longer burning bright,
With the blazing flashes
With the waving metal
With the painful silence;
The battle lasting all through the night.
The observers watched the fortress fight,
The towers fell
The walls broke
The keep crumbled;
The Citadel remained alone in the vicious night.
Finally the rising dawn told its tales,
They may destroy the land
They may destroy the cities
They may destroy the peace;
But our integrity will hold and freedom will last forever.
The Citadel stood above all the rest,
Upon the crimson mountains
Upon the glistening lake
Upon the rolling plains;
The nation that put forth its very best.
Then the dark approached across the field,
Under the oppressive clouds
Under the evil banner
Under the setting sun;
The Citadel again the people’s final shield.
The sun went down no longer burning bright,
With the blazing flashes
With the waving metal
With the painful silence;
The battle lasting all through the night.
The observers watched the fortress fight,
The towers fell
The walls broke
The keep crumbled;
The Citadel remained alone in the vicious night.
Finally the rising dawn told its tales,
They may destroy the land
They may destroy the cities
They may destroy the peace;
But our integrity will hold and freedom will last forever.
Do You Know?
Heart has chosen against my will.
All I am, channeled away in constant stream,
Yet the returning waves are still.
You touched my life – sealing the circle.
All you are, glistening off in the distance.
And I am fading away.
I cry out to you, but you cannot hear.
I need you, but you cannot see.
I love you, but you cannot feel.
And I am fading away.
Heart has chosen against my will.
All I am, channeled away in constant stream,
Yet the returning waves are still.
You touched my life – sealing the circle.
All you are, glistening off in the distance.
And I am fading away.
I cry out to you, but you cannot hear.
I need you, but you cannot see.
I love you, but you cannot feel.
And I am fading away.
Radiant Wings
Close your failing eyes and witness in the distant sky:
Vibrant sunset-colored clouds slowly swirl
in eternal free form above the vast shimmering surface
of pristine, blue life droplets
forming liquid-meshes that fuse and fracture.
The nameless light with radiant wings –
armed with heavy sword and shield skillfully assembled
and decorated with delicate engravings along its features
denoting her as a guardian among many –
Serves without expectation of reciprocity 1
between the protector and the protected;
and regardless of the acknowledgement
of her existence, know she stands with you
in all the empty places you must go.
1 the mutual exchange of goods and services
Close your failing eyes and witness in the distant sky:
Vibrant sunset-colored clouds slowly swirl
in eternal free form above the vast shimmering surface
of pristine, blue life droplets
forming liquid-meshes that fuse and fracture.
The nameless light with radiant wings –
armed with heavy sword and shield skillfully assembled
and decorated with delicate engravings along its features
denoting her as a guardian among many –
Serves without expectation of reciprocity 1
between the protector and the protected;
and regardless of the acknowledgement
of her existence, know she stands with you
in all the empty places you must go.
1 the mutual exchange of goods and services
Pathways of Cards 1
The Pawn of Spades A tired old fisherman Skillfully defends against
An experienced soldier Garbed in heavy black cloth A woman without law
Launches herself towards The town wall of gray stones With smoothly carved features
The evil brooding bitch Crumbles into plumes of dust The deadly advance marks
The Queen of Hearts A person of willful blood From the tallest of towers
She hurls a sphere of fire at Her adversary of games Noting the final play
1 To be read horizontally, starting at the top-left or vertically, starting on the top-left.
The Pawn of Spades A tired old fisherman Skillfully defends against
An experienced soldier Garbed in heavy black cloth A woman without law
Launches herself towards The town wall of gray stones With smoothly carved features
The evil brooding bitch Crumbles into plumes of dust The deadly advance marks
The Queen of Hearts A person of willful blood From the tallest of towers
She hurls a sphere of fire at Her adversary of games Noting the final play
1 To be read horizontally, starting at the top-left or vertically, starting on the top-left.
An Epic Plea
Distant Heart fading on the horizon,
Why do you travel?
Where do you go?
We walk the same road and yet you fade.
We share the same air and the same food.
And yet you fade… it need not be that way.
Know this my brother: Yes, heroes die –
But not before they have lived.
Distant Heart fading on the horizon,
Why do you travel?
Where do you go?
We walk the same road and yet you fade.
We share the same air and the same food.
And yet you fade… it need not be that way.
Know this my brother: Yes, heroes die –
But not before they have lived.
Memory of Sand
I slowly released my flexed gloves and looked up –
a massive ring of polished prismatic-steel
framing the world in which I had lived and died.
I looked
at the oceans and heard the sea on the shore,
at the deserts and heard the wind move across stone,
at the mountains and heard the eagle’s call,
at the cities and heard… nothing.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my new sight –
the giant hands moved across the face of the clock
each tick, a pulsing of movement and occurrences
perpetual transformation and growth
resisting lesser laws of diminishing returns.
I fell to my knees and called out to the cities
Why can’t I hear you?
I slowly released my flexed gloves and looked up –
a massive ring of polished prismatic-steel
framing the world in which I had lived and died.
I looked
at the oceans and heard the sea on the shore,
at the deserts and heard the wind move across stone,
at the mountains and heard the eagle’s call,
at the cities and heard… nothing.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my new sight –
the giant hands moved across the face of the clock
each tick, a pulsing of movement and occurrences
perpetual transformation and growth
resisting lesser laws of diminishing returns.
I fell to my knees and called out to the cities
Why can’t I hear you?
Appealing Hymn
If one could sit high while still grounded to earth,
one could see about him the vastness of the dark
and yet below, feel the reverberations of rock and
hear the infinite voices traveling the airwaves.
In the grand scheme of things and scale,
we make no light of our own
but our voices may be enough
to fill the expanse of the universe --
if permitted.
For our voice has color and our sight has echo.
If one could sit high while still grounded to earth,
one could see about him the vastness of the dark
and yet below, feel the reverberations of rock and
hear the infinite voices traveling the airwaves.
In the grand scheme of things and scale,
we make no light of our own
but our voices may be enough
to fill the expanse of the universe --
if permitted.
For our voice has color and our sight has echo.
Something Extra
Our conversations contradicted themselves then,
separating the sides of a coin that should have been whole.
Her lingering thoughts of home stole precious hours of sleep.
I considered her extended-family, new family
and decided to share something from
my home, with something a little extra.
A flash. Home in my backyard --
where chimes of several types announced
the coming and going of warm breezes
and the sweet smell of creosote bush after desert rains.
I found several in the mall
some carved of wood and decorated with feathers,
some with bars the length of my arm,
some of them mass-produced in China,
and others rusted in monotone colors.
I walked out of the store, stopped
and walked back in. Pushed aside a display
in the farthest corner
and saw nothing.
I let my head drop and saw it at my feet.
A wind chime suspended from a jet-black disk
with smooth, round edges.
Hanging from the very bottom of the gift,
something extra, a dream catcher
with interlocked shiny metal coils and leaves.
I looked around and allowed myself a tap.
The silver bars sang tranquility.
I loved its intricate details – and
similarities.
There above her bed a few inches from the ceiling,
a gift I found for her.
Our conversations contradicted themselves then,
separating the sides of a coin that should have been whole.
Her lingering thoughts of home stole precious hours of sleep.
I considered her extended-family, new family
and decided to share something from
my home, with something a little extra.
A flash. Home in my backyard --
where chimes of several types announced
the coming and going of warm breezes
and the sweet smell of creosote bush after desert rains.
I found several in the mall
some carved of wood and decorated with feathers,
some with bars the length of my arm,
some of them mass-produced in China,
and others rusted in monotone colors.
I walked out of the store, stopped
and walked back in. Pushed aside a display
in the farthest corner
and saw nothing.
I let my head drop and saw it at my feet.
A wind chime suspended from a jet-black disk
with smooth, round edges.
Hanging from the very bottom of the gift,
something extra, a dream catcher
with interlocked shiny metal coils and leaves.
I looked around and allowed myself a tap.
The silver bars sang tranquility.
I loved its intricate details – and
similarities.
There above her bed a few inches from the ceiling,
a gift I found for her.
Hegemonia
Steel Toe leather steps trudge across
A cold high-rise above the earth.
The fabric of a nation,
- scorched by hate
- torn by fear
Held together by the tired hands that make it
Using duct-tape and first aid kits.
Recycled lives decay, spiteful of a new and improved world.
Steel Toe leather steps trudge across
A cold high-rise above the earth.
The fabric of a nation,
- scorched by hate
- torn by fear
Held together by the tired hands that make it
Using duct-tape and first aid kits.
Recycled lives decay, spiteful of a new and improved world.
Underneath Midnight Air
I
Hear me traveler!
For you have been called.
Of what use are youthful relics
a college student sleeping the day away
a child swinging in an empty playground
a man so stoned that there are two of him
polished in the false security, apathy?
oh joy.
…
whatever
II
In a world crowned by a rainbow of gray, the rain quenches the thirst like salt water.
The ambulance skids around the street corner,
spraying dirty water on a frightened old man.
Radio dispatch whispers to the crew in the crashed vehicle.
Sorry guys…you’re not needed there anymore. Head home.
III
The cherished feeling of her laying against him now
as they watch movies on her computer screen and share intimate details.
Miniscule to the kiss she no longer gives
now and then, causing frostbite to the heart.
IV
A single man of twenty some, standing
in a vacant intersection, among skyscrapers
illuminated by street lights without power
underneath midnight air.
I
Hear me traveler!
For you have been called.
Of what use are youthful relics
a college student sleeping the day away
a child swinging in an empty playground
a man so stoned that there are two of him
polished in the false security, apathy?
oh joy.
…
whatever
II
In a world crowned by a rainbow of gray, the rain quenches the thirst like salt water.
The ambulance skids around the street corner,
spraying dirty water on a frightened old man.
Radio dispatch whispers to the crew in the crashed vehicle.
Sorry guys…you’re not needed there anymore. Head home.
III
The cherished feeling of her laying against him now
as they watch movies on her computer screen and share intimate details.
Miniscule to the kiss she no longer gives
now and then, causing frostbite to the heart.
IV
A single man of twenty some, standing
in a vacant intersection, among skyscrapers
illuminated by street lights without power
underneath midnight air.
Sunset Relations
Her dusk silhouette edged
closer to me, each step drumming
on my heart. Her seductive smile jazzed
up my life. Dressed in vivid feathers
and leather, she danced
around my pleasantly paralyzed form.
The rhythm and movement of her form
kept me on the edge
of my seat begging for more – wild spirit, dancing
to the beat of drums
felt and not heard. Scarlet and silver feathers
swirled at the whims of nearby Jazz
piercing the through the sunset air. Jazz
players tipped their instruments back and forth in form
of the ocean’s reach onto the shore. Feathers
fell from time to time when her hand arced over the edges
of her slender body. Nearby wooden drums
came alive with a dance
of their own, telling her to dance
close enough for me to feel the heat of her body jazz.
Carefully masked by the cascading sounds of wooden drums,
she whispers to me tantalizing secrets while forming
a circle around me with her arms and sinking along the edge
of my smooth clothes. Her feathers
brushed up against me, as if vivid-feathered
wings skirted the surface of still shimmering water – ripples would dance
outwards towards the edge
of the wild sands of land. The jazz
players softened their song until their forms
faded from view, and the potent wooden drums
fell silent – leaving my heart the only thundering drum.
Garments of scarlet and silver feathers
lay about the empty stage and seats around us. Her familiar form
let her fingers dance
about me and we made private jazz
together on the edge
of the world… I stood alone on the twilight beach without drums or jazz.
I saw a single scarlet feather dance in the breeze
and wondered when I might ever meet the form who waited on the edge of my dreams.
Her dusk silhouette edged
closer to me, each step drumming
on my heart. Her seductive smile jazzed
up my life. Dressed in vivid feathers
and leather, she danced
around my pleasantly paralyzed form.
The rhythm and movement of her form
kept me on the edge
of my seat begging for more – wild spirit, dancing
to the beat of drums
felt and not heard. Scarlet and silver feathers
swirled at the whims of nearby Jazz
piercing the through the sunset air. Jazz
players tipped their instruments back and forth in form
of the ocean’s reach onto the shore. Feathers
fell from time to time when her hand arced over the edges
of her slender body. Nearby wooden drums
came alive with a dance
of their own, telling her to dance
close enough for me to feel the heat of her body jazz.
Carefully masked by the cascading sounds of wooden drums,
she whispers to me tantalizing secrets while forming
a circle around me with her arms and sinking along the edge
of my smooth clothes. Her feathers
brushed up against me, as if vivid-feathered
wings skirted the surface of still shimmering water – ripples would dance
outwards towards the edge
of the wild sands of land. The jazz
players softened their song until their forms
faded from view, and the potent wooden drums
fell silent – leaving my heart the only thundering drum.
Garments of scarlet and silver feathers
lay about the empty stage and seats around us. Her familiar form
let her fingers dance
about me and we made private jazz
together on the edge
of the world… I stood alone on the twilight beach without drums or jazz.
I saw a single scarlet feather dance in the breeze
and wondered when I might ever meet the form who waited on the edge of my dreams.
Star Tide
At the moment of recognition – the instant you realize
you are living, you become aware of an unknown purpose
and with a soul-surge of energy
a new star in the sky is born, vibrantly in the dull night.
At the moment of recognition – you reach out with your radiance
illuminating a small world
touching the surface of another star
announcing your presence to the universe
hoping that at least one,
will watch long enough to mark your passing.
At the moment of recognition – the instant you realize
you are living, you become aware of an unknown purpose
and with a soul-surge of energy
a new star in the sky is born, vibrantly in the dull night.
At the moment of recognition – you reach out with your radiance
illuminating a small world
touching the surface of another star
announcing your presence to the universe
hoping that at least one,
will watch long enough to mark your passing.