I'm a woman

I'm a woman
Photos copyright Laurence Gouault
No reproduction on other media without the photographer's permission.

Thursday, 1 September 2016

Rock as Art, by Stevie the poor artist Haston.

There is a lot of pretention in the world, and I might be adding to it by the following few words, and photos.  But Rock with a capital Rrrrr is Art, it's great Art, well sometimes, for a few nano seconds anyway. At the risk of appearing in Pseuds Corner in a satirical magazine, here is some stuff.

 The route Bernd, a masterpiece of rock architecture and a fairly hard bit of climbing 8b+.

Ordinary cliffs, interest me in an ordinary way, but extraordinary ones have both added to my character, and chiseled some of my flaws away. Too pompous? Perhaps, but true none the less. I should add that climbing has driven me mad at times. Too dramatic, not really, more of my friends are dead than alive, their time lines aren't imaginary shit on a computer. 

 Antonia walking thru the Underworld, the river Styx is peaceful and the ferryman has been paid.

 The route Bernd again, headless horseman, or headless chicken.

What immortal eye
could frame thy fearful symmetry

I live in caves, cathedrals of steepness and severity, a monk(key) trying to usurp the powers of gravity, and twist them by force of will, and alchemy. Pretentious? Possibly. But sadly true. And to add the blatantly obvious, a deluded sad man doomed to failure.


 Humour has its place, the bond between climbers is legend, my friend Kyle, "how big Kyle are our  egos"? Behind are colonnettes, tuffas, made of silk….. there is a 6c+ at Seynes that looks exactly like this photo, laughing is good medicine, so is rock.

 the eye of Odin Norway? No it is the eye of Ulysses Gozo.

The magic of rock and cliffs haven't really created poets like William Blake and we are so poor in intellect nowadays that our artists and writers are often treated as ponces. I don't agree with the mad adulation of the literary convention, or group masturbation circle, but hey a good book can be a good read. But if a painting is worth a thousand words (it is not, not good ones anyway) is a photo of a good bit of rock worth caressing or at least a quick fondle?

an ordinary tale of 6b, Arco, Italy.

Arco Italy where rock is interspersed with Cedar trees, Olive and fig, where conversation is lubricated by Aperol Spritzer, where a pizza is a revolving flying saucer of happiness rock is sumptuous.
Noblesse Oblige means climb attractive rocks with a dizzying passion, it means the clock is running out, the rock will out live you, your bones will be ground to dust, a mountain is there a bit longer than your ego.