JOHN BLAKE
CREATIVE ARTS
ABOUT JOHN
John Blake has always been drawn to writing; however, only recently started gathering his thoughts into a full-length novel, The Lady Embellished in White, and Perceptions, a collection of poetry. After leaving the hectic architectural corporate world, John returned to his mother’s Charleston roots in the Lowcountry of his home state, South Carolina. He became immersed in the Lowcountry culture and setting. John enjoys days spent in his garden overlooking the Coosaw River marsh and historical ACE Basin. His training in the visual arts has prepared him to transition from blueprints to putting thoughts on canvas and writing paper. In his writings, he strives to awaken the reader’s senses of joy, love, pain and triumph. When he is not in his studio, John enjoys cooking, woodworking, sculpture, and classic rock music.
You can contact John at:
jblakecreativearts@gmail.com
MY JOURNEY
AS CHRONICLED IN A COLLECTION OF FREEHAND DRAWINGS
AND ILLUSTRATIONS
Everyone has the ability to draw. Afterall, we began drawing before we learned to write. Freehand sketching is a quick technique for illustrating creative thoughts and documenting the development of a design. One can quickly sketch design options that can later be implemented into a more comprehensive solution. Your sketches don’t have to be elaborate. Look upon sketching as a controlled scribble. Whether you are laying out a garden, designing a fashion garment, or planning a building design, freehand sketching enables you to instantly study scale, balance, and alternative features. Sketches can be as simple as Erich Mendelsohn’s bold strokes of his Einstein Tower design in Potsdam, Germany, or as intricate as Michelangelo’s detailed designs for the tomb of Pope Julius II.
So take along a sketchbook and pen on the next outing. You will open your viewing options and have for prosperity a personalized illustration.
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EXCERPTS FROM
SKETCHES
COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL
PERCEPTIONS
REFLECTIONS AND IMPRESSIONS
AS CHRONICLED IN A COLLECTIONS OF POEMS
We all have experienced triumphs and turmoils along life’s twisted turns. My poems are simple to comprehend and to be enjoyed by all. I write of the beauty of a butterfly in flight, an evening rainstorm, gazing at stars in the night sky, and a walk through my garden and along a marsh in the Lowcountry of South Carolina. I also put on paper the emotional loss of a dear friend, ponderances of the mysteries of life, and the thought-provoking topics of death and sorrow. My poems also explore the subjects of love, relationships, determination and dedication.
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As Angels Sing
Have you ever wondered what
it is like to hear an angel’s voice?
Sure to be a sound that would open
the coldest heart to rejoice.
It is said, there are those among us
that can sing of such pure tones,
That possess the powers to rock our souls
and rattle our bones.
But until the day that such spiritual
divineness I do see,
I will continue to look for
earthly likenesses to hearten me.
For I believe that if one stands in quietness
on a clear night’s eve,
Angels can be heard in the sound
of the wind through the trees.
So listen not for trumpeting horns
or whistling woodwind’s shrill,
But to the softness of falling rain
or the call of a distanced
whip-poor-will.
EXCERPTS FROM
PERCEPTIONS
COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL
An Orchestrated Finale
As the cool evening mist turns
to darkened skies,
And birds sing the choruses
of their mating cries.
Rain doest fall, now tapping out
a growing tempo,
And the sky radiates flares
that set the trees aglow.
And where the sound
of the shepherd’s pipe did sing,
Is now replaced by the clashes
a storm does bring.
As too the river’s tranquil flow
quickens from the rain,
And the wind trumpets
through golden fields of grain.
All builds to an orchestrated finale
of heavenly mix.
To be enjoyed in,
Beethoven’s Symphony Number Six.
EXCERPTS FROM
PERCEPTIONS
COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL
Apples of Different Hues
We all judge apples by the color of their skin,
Making perceptions without first looking within.
As if scanning for blemishes is all that’s needed,
We overlook likenesses that are so deep-seeded.
Once bruised, mending of scars is not probable;
However, avoiding future wounds is plausible.
Through the careful handling of each delicately,
We can jointly end the mishandling indefinitely.
To continue judging differences is a big waste.
Aren’t all apples of the same fundamental taste?
Whether they be of light or dark, yellow or red,
An apple is an apple, no matter any ill will said.
So the next time we see apples of different hues,
See them first as good, through and through.
Let’s fill our carts and join our varying voices,
And sing the Gullah/Geechee spiritual choruses.
“Let Us Break Bread Together”
“Let Us Break Bread Together”
Folklore from St. Helena, South Carolina,
Penn School, St. Helena Island, South Carolina,
Text version by N.G.J. Ballanta, 1923.
Arrangement for solo voice and piano by J. Rosamond Johnson, published in The Second Book of Negro Spirituals (NY: Viking Press, 1926)
Numbing the Mind and Senses - Dusk
Rain saturates the cold ground,
A seamlessly endless deluge.
Nightfall finds not a familiar sound,
As struggles rise to find refuge.
The comforting burrow hastily dug,
Abated by a puddle of cold mud.
Shedding moisture proves futile,
Soaking steps; numbing toes.
The cold and damp become brutal,
As the unknown of darkness grows.
The comfort of the soul,
Shrouded by what night holds.
A dim light pierces the tree tops,
From stars amidst the cloudy cloak.
Falling like tears are leaf captured drops,
Of thunderous orchestrated strokes.
The comfort of a gentle rain,
Tricked by the weary brain.
Beads pound the thick forest floor,
Sounding of footsteps nearing.
Motionless staring out demon’s door,
Down a footpath abutting a clearing.
This comfort of being alone,
Fading as muscles turn to stone.
Straining to see into the forest crevasse,
Eyes quake from absence of sleep.
Sand falls, filling three the hourglass,
As the night’s silence grows deep.
The comfort of sensory height,
Hopeful to anew with dawn’s light.
THE LADY EMBELLISHED IN WHITE
A MAN'S TRANSCENDENTAL QUEST TO DISCOVER THE MYSTERIES OF LIFE
FICTION MANUSCRIPT
232 PAGES
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EXCERPT FROM
THE LADY EMBELLISHED IN WHITE
Daniel walks out into the cool night air to the patio’s edge beyond the row of white-painted rockers. He stares out toward the tree line at the end of the courtyard where the Lady in White once appeared. He slowly scans the tree line. The sky is dark with an occasional flash of lightning off in the distance, but only the splash of the central fountain can be heard. A cool, breeze gently stirs the leaves that have, in the past few days, begun to fall in the courtyard.
He stands there for a few minutes longer, looks up to the low, rushing clouds against the black sky, and says out loud, “I am here. Make yourself known to me. I demand answers! Make your presence known!”
He begins to shiver while waiting on the Lady in White to appear, or at least send him a sign, then a bright light appears from behind that illuminates his back. He clings hold of the book even tighter and steadies himself against the side of a chair. With a rush of blood to his head, he turns and looks to the light that temporarily causes blindness, as if looking into the sun. Shielding his eyes from the bright glow with one hand, he takes a big breath. Then the ray of light shines down on the ground in front of Daniel. With restored vision, he looks out to see what or who made their presence known.
