Sudden Tears

…and Rimbaud’s limb being so caught up goes be-bopping out the door into the forest through the trees – raga rag in the grass overturning picnic baskets whizzing past churchyard gates right in step it genuflects then aims and leaps over the scene over the rainbow out of the canvas into space pure space—as remote and colorless as dear arthur’s face. a face made incorporeal  full of grace.  sunken eyes—those cobalt treasures closed forever.

clenched fist relaxed wrist
his pipe turned in…

out in the garden the children are gathering
it’s not a whim. they are accurate immaculate,
as cruel as him.
they sing:
legs can’t flail
cock can’t ball
teeth can’t bare
baby can’t crawl
rimbaud rimbaud facing the wall
cold as hail dead as a doornail

sudden tears!

Excerpt from the poem Rimbaud Dead, by Patti Smith

San Francisco’s Public Art

Some of these shots date back to 2010, the year I began to take pictures.

I first used a Blackberry, then an inexpensive DSLR, and eventually a Canon T3 and finally a Canon Ti4.

 

Madre
Madre

 

Padre
Padre

 

Wisdom on Haight and Webster
Wisdom on Haight Street
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The Wheel of Justice
Por favor

Strange Dream #14

Mental Illness and Art
Why?
Collaborative Self Interest
Collaborative Self Interest
Pure Energy
Bugz

Seen in the Mission District

 

Portrait of Malcolm X
Portrait of Malcolm X

 

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Audre Lorde
Audre Lorde

 

Picture of a mural in Clarion Alley that shows people of every race, creed and nationality united in common cause
…And we are everywhere…

 

(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2016-2017

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The Problem with Pictures

I have a problem with pictures.

We don’t recognize the guy in the picture.

He’s not Rob Goldstein or Mateo

or Bobby.

or Sara

or Felicity

or Peter

or Bob.

He might be Matthew.

When I’m asked for a picture of myself all of my alternate neuro-networks light up in confusion.

Whose picture?

Collage Portrait in torn paper

“ You peer into the mirror and have trouble recognizing yourself.

You can’t remember whether you actually did something. . . or only thought you did.

You feel as though you’re just going through the motions of life.”

The Stranger in the Mirror.

When someone shows me a picture of what they say is me I look at it and smile and thank them.

I never say what I see.

Portion of a 3-D Collage on Clarion Alley

That’s how we lose friends.

Rob Goldstein 2015-2018 All Rights Reserved