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Tristan and Iseult is an influential romance and tragedy, retold in numerous sources with as many variations. The tragic story is of the adulterous love between the Cornish knight Tristan (Tristram) and the Irish princess Iseult (Isolde, Yseult, etc.). The narrative predates and most likely influenced the Arthurian romance of Lancelot and Guinevere, and has had a substantial impact on Western art, the idea of romantic love and literature since it first appeared in the 12th century.


Isolde of Ireland, also known as Isolt, Isold, Iseult, or Ysolde, was the daughter of Angwish, King of Ireland. She was betrothed to King Mark of Cornwall. King Mark sent his nephew, Tristan, to Ireland to escort Isolde back to Cornwall.

Isolde did marry Mark of Cornwall, but could not help but love Tristan. The love affair continued after the marriage. When King Mark finally learned of the affair, he forgave Isolde, but Tristan was banned from Cornwall. Tristan moved to King Arthur's court and later went to Brittany. There he met Iseult of Brittany (also known as Iseult of White Hands). He was attracted to her because of the similarity of her name to his true love. He married her, but did not consummate the marriage because of his love for the "true" Isolde. After falling ill, he sent for Isolde in hopes that she would be able to cure him. If she agreed to come, the returning ship's sails would be white, or the sails would be black if she did not agree. Iseult, seeing the white sails, lied to Tristan and told him that the sails were black. He died of grief before Isolde could reach him. Isolde died soon after of a broken heart. Iseult regretted her actions after she saw the love that the two had for each other.
Isolde and Tristan in Art

The Triptych Altarpeice of Harriet Westbrook Shelley by Miles Mathis

The Art of Miles Mathis

A note about technique

Studio tour

A Modern Pre-raphaelite Masterpiece by Miles Mathis

Miles Williams Mathis was born in Amarillo, Texas, post Nineteenth Century on the 17th of September year unknown. In 1987 Miles began copying from the old masters, at first from books and then making trips to museums. His first museum copy was a Sargent at the Dallas Museum of Art, where he was the first copyist in the history of the museum. At the Tate he copied a detail of Sargent's Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose in oil and copied a detail of Millais' Ophelia in pastels.


The Triptych Altarpeice of Harriet Westbrook Shelley
Harriet Westbrook, a tavern keeper's daughter, married Percy Bysshe Shelley in 1812 at the age of sixteen.  Percy was nineteen.  Two years later he left her for Mary Godwin.  Divorce on the grounds of incompatibility was not allowed at that time in England.  Percy and Mary fled to Italy.  They returned to England in 1816; and ten months later Harriet, pregnant by an unknown lover, drowned herself in the Serpentine River in Hyde Park.  She was not found for two weeks.  Six years later, Percy drowned in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Leghorn, when his boat was capsized in a sudden storm. details

 The poem Lethe by Harriet Westbrook on the two side panels is a self-elegy written in first person in the voice of Harriet. It is composed in Spenserian stanzas, used first by Edmund Spenser in the Faerie Queen, and thereafter by many English poets as a favorite for elegies.  Adonais, Shelley's elegy to Keats upon his death, was written in Spenserian stanzas.  A stanza consists of eight lines of iambic pentameter and one line of iambic hexameter, in a fixed rhyme.  I wrote the poem on Arches Lavis Fidelis, in eight-foot sheets, which I antiqued and wheat-pasted to primed cabinet-grade plywood panels.  The calligraphy was done with ink and a chinese brush.


The painting in the central panel depicts Harriet, or her ghost, rising from the water at midnight, under a full moon, to seek the ghost of Percy.  The poem is her recitation, or incantation, before she departs.  The painting is lifesize, oil on 14 oz. linen, 96 by 44 inches.  The frame was designed by me and built by my father, Phillip Mathis, and me in his woodshop.  It is dark-stained mahogany, 4.5 x 1.5 for the center panel, 3.75 x 1 in. for the two side panels.  The central pediment above the figure is gold-leafed with 22 ct. gold, and antiqued.  It is topped by a handcarved and painted fish, spouting a stylized fleur of water upon which perches a seahorse.  The flanking pediments, over the text, are silver leafed and antiqued.  They are surmounted by a turned finial and a painted and silvered fish.  The wave pattern at the top of the three pediments is unique, as far as I know.
 

The altarpiece also includes a bronze sculpture, which he first sculpted in clay, of Harriet before she wakes.  It sits at the top of the stairs leading up to the altar, or main platform.  The triptych rests upon a freestanding base or riser, two feet high and nine feet wide, covered with black velveteen.  There are three steps leading up to the platform.  In the middle of the platform, behind the sculpture, is a weathered black neo-classical concrete basin.  It is filled with dirt and water and dead leaves and a single conchshell.  Fully assembled, the work is 14 ft., 9 in. high x 9 ft. wide x 4 ft. deep. 


It may be the first artwork in history to combine these media as it does.

Lethe - The Poem
Self-elegy by Harriet Westbrook first wife of Percy Shelley

 
                            1
I look down into the moss-green pool
my own reflected face flanked by clouds
inhabiting yet the heavens cold and cruel
unloose the binding dresses destined shrouds
I speak as listening to ghosts aloud
whispering my life unto the wind
promises broken promises once avowed
overheard by ghosts ghosts will not rescind
and aweful Queen of Ghosts these promises will tend
 
Water swirling through my sinking skirts
washing billowing blouse and filling dresses
with muddy Serpentine swelled with rains
to rinse with ash-blonde foam my flowing tresses
Water chilling skin with cold caresses
taking our child and me down slowly dreamily
almost weightless as the tide progresses
its silty sound swallowing me and our baby 
will swallow you too My Love as Your Soul at last confesses
 
                           2
We haunt these waters gliding scaleless finless
naked with the naked fishes glinting
They like us adrift forever sinless
rising up from sunless sea-paths squinting
at dancing rays filtering down hinting
of warm red light above, hot-skinned creatures
gliding through air and Fate's breath unrelenting
burdened only by wind and rock-hard features
and voices mouthed all round, soundless unseen preachers
 
 
Listen to the water flowing over my grave
Listen to the current running down to sea
washing among the rounded pebbles a-lave
with muddy sediment.  This soil will, free
from stream bed and bank, resalt the mineral sea
with the salt and dust of me and our baby's bones
It will flavor the ocean floor, far Normandy
and the coast of farther Leghorn as it moans
with the Tyrrhene tidal winds squalling in blackest tones
 
I did not even know Ophelia, never
doubting but 'gratitude and admiration,'
I saw you write, 'demand I shall love her forever'
But what sad dreamer dreaming since time began
kept such vow being but flesh and man
unless his vow and dream might coincide
which self-encircling artist will not plan
and god, foreseeing future, matches bride
with dream unchanging, dreamers dreaming side by side
 
Mediterranean waves washed you ashore
you wept for by all as genius lost
while I must grovel in London mud, no more
bemoaned than fishes or frogs or flotsam wave-tossed
For Poesy I am but the cost
staring skyward glassy-eyed from Serpent's flank
Of me Faith's Child the poets never guessed
You will Muse but never Woman thank
For you my maidenhead naively led twice sank
 
You say you cannot love what you do not
but I am lost My God unchaste unmarried
unloved and then from pitying hands unsought
a child that unfathered must never be carried
My past my present haunts cannot be buried
Fled you think a love is right or not
if not then virtue is to be remarried
But I am no mistake to be unbought
as fish of ghostly form I cannot be uncaught
 
                            3
That Deep that sparkles with riddles and grinning monsters
spread out around you though morning had dawned clear cloudless
and blue, sky reflecting sanely exactly
the silvery surface.  Waveless nearly windless
the mast hardly cocked, the stockstill lazy compass
Beneath this idyll Naiades eyed their prey
above Erinyes preened and whetted careless
The Sea grave of all waters watched lidless fey
the sea floor swelled to receive the salt of one more your clay
 
Fate tempted She rose from her deep abode
flanked by Furies followed by millions
out from their caves of darkness Sea Ghosts flowed
in circling waves of dancing writhing cotillions
and Percy you saw before you joined the billions
my billowing blouse rippling from every crest
my eyes in the faces of Triton's minions
and seaweed that sewed each frond a lover's tress
enwrapping you Love like curling sea snakes vengeance-blest
 
Gulls, oyster-albine bacchantes, screamed alone
or beating wing for breast tearing through the veils
of Delphic mists as swirling maidens swore atone
Below there leapt blue dolphins, breaching whales
who slapping flukes on briny greenswell wail
a long-drawn song an ocean jeremiad
awash with centuries-old earth-circling tales
of languishment and death and bones half-hid
by silt and wavy seaweed and eddies Neptune-bid
 
Pipers primly skipped from threatening wave
Scuttling crabs retreated always sideways
every beast that day did itself save
from Supernature's cast in Passion Plays
as Venus made a count of all the days
crushing under dainty goddess slipper
or whitest barest foot him who pays
the uttermost farthing and then must kneel and kiss her
lips with redeemed lips that then must ever miss her
 
                            4
Someday when I awake when I arise
when earth and water mix in Parousia
and look my drowned poet in the eyes
as Cronus meets the eyes of mother Rhea
and Uranus the gaze of mother Gaea
remember once you loved me knew not why
marred by Adam's sin non culpa mea
son of father's dearth back to Sky
who rains on Gaea as a cloud gone floating by
 
That dark night unrestful I will wake
beneath the blowing cattails lulling you
to sleep, that night I will at last forsake
the quiet earth and overreaching dew
 
At midnight belly rounding with the moon
I will arise Astarte-like from the rushes
I will arise respirited too soon
like her whose presence all the Spirit hushes
display the perished bloom and hectic flushes 
the falsely beating heart and warming womb
the graying lips of red and mother's blushes
I will awake untimely unentomb
bones best left enearthed and flesh and feeling numb
 
Then when Chaos stirs the bloody Earth
remixing limbs eyes Souls hearts
and making every death a crying birth
infusing salty water into parts
confused by Change and Time and Judgment starts
my water and your storm will be the same
I, Immortal Bird, will sing the Arts
and you will mouthe my pain not in name
but kissed from storm to storm no weather-lover's blame
 
You who hate the seed for taking root
will also hate the cloud that whitens high
the storm that overwaters virgin shoot
bass-boom thunder and the infant cry
of washed-out life weakening to die
beneath unsheltered sky.  You will curse
the rain that fills the drowning stream and I
Skylark blithe but long deflowered and worse
unignorant of pain to innocently coerce
 
my strains to pure profusion—Not Purity
but Sacred Soilure, the Dirt of Ages
will bless my songbird bones—I will cloudless see
what you must miss unmuddied: the ghost-watched wages
of sin to Art and Love are not on gold-gilt pages
in Heaven but are writ in Runes upon the Earth
bloody kana venting Vulcan's rages
at Nazarene.  Magdalene knew: not worth
pap a Pure Conception or a Virgin Birth
 
                            5
I will learn to rain and you to rust
The mud will take us both and both the sky
Sea-silt and Cloud-froth will bed our breath and dust
and we will learn to live and so to die
For now I wait the rain drips past my eye
you dig deep beneath the seas of Rome
The seas will rise and fall in circles by the bye
and when the sea floor meets the starry dome
soaked and salty you will take our baby home

Also by Miles Mathis - Isolde


The Art of Miles Mathis

The Triptych Altarpeice of Harriet Westbrook Shelley

"It's All Greek to Me"
I am trying to paint daily, working on a difficult commission for a client who appreciates the value, depth of meaning, symbolism and culture of traditional heritage.

Each morning I struggle to get the dregs of the day out of the way by moving through the realms of the Empyrean in ever widening concentric circles of my personal hell to get to the task at hand, which is to paint a masterpiece of the idyll shepherd, Daphne and Chloe, where Chloe is being saved from by the great god Pan. As it might be in this Rococo work by Francois Boucher, "Shepherd Piping to a Shepherdess" c. 1747-1750, a modernized version for this idea.

Daphnis and Chloe by Jean-Pierre Cortot/ Shepherd and Shepherdess, Francois Boucher - France
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daphnis_and_Chloe

The nearest I could come to finding the scene I perceive in my mind was by 17th century painter Werff Adriaen "Shepherd And Shepherdess" c. 1696. and although the pipe is not the panpipe to which we are accustomed, the scene has the basic elements for what I wish to portray. Throughout the tale, Chloe is courted by suitors, two of whom (Dorcon and Lampis) attempt with varying degrees of success to abduct her. She is also carried off by raiders from a nearby city, and saved by the intervention of the god Pan. This is where I take my inspiration. Where this will lead is up to the gods..

left: Werff Adriaen "Shepherd And Shepherdess" c. 1696
right: Pan, Great God of Shepherds, Flocks and Flutes - Luxembourg Gardens Pan sculpture

The following three poems by Wordsworth reveal my exasperation with this world.

The World is Too Much With Us: 1806
 
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. - Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

William Wordsworth


William Wordsworth addresses Milton to return and give us insights into present lowers
London 1802
William Wordsworth | John MIlton

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart:
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
So didst thou travel on life's common way,
In cheerful godliness; and yet the heart
The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

The best I can describe the disconcerting interruptions of the demands of a modern society on a creative individual rests with this story about Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who awoke one morning with an epic Kubla Khan c. 1797. In his notes he writes, "In Xanada did Cublai Can build a stately Pallace, encompassing sixteene miles of plaine ground with a wall, wherein are fertile Meddows, pleasant Springs, delightful Streames, and all sorts of beasts of chase and game, and in the midst thereof a sumptuous house of pleasure, which may be removed from place to place. Here he doth abide in the months of June, July, and August, on the eight and twentieth day whereof, he departeth thence to another place to do sacrifice in this manner: He hath a Herd or Drove of Horses and Mares, about ten thousand, as white as snow; of the milke whereof none may taste, except he be of the blood of Cingis Can. Yea, the Tartars do these beasts great reverence, nor dare any cross their way, or go before them. According to the directions of his Astrologers or Magicians, he on the eight and twentieth day of August aforesaid, spendeth and poureth forth with his owne hands the milke of these Mares in the aire, and on the earth, to give drink to the spirits and Idols which they worship, that they may preserve the men, women, beasts, birds, corne, and other things growing on the earth." Upon waking, he set about writing lines of poetry that came to him from the dream until he was interrupted by a person from Porlock. The poem could not be completed according to its original 200-300 line plan as the interruption caused him to forget the lines.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kubla_Khan
http://samueltaylorcoleridge.blogspot.com/2011/01/response-to-kubla-khan.html

Here is the poem in it's entire brevity..

Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge c. 1797

'The Source of the Sacred River' by Albert Goodwin c. 1890
http://www.victorianweb.org/painting/goodwin/paintings/1.html
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

To think what is lost to our modern adversity.. that will never be replaced!

Gives me grief to no end of anxiety.

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Imagine a world in peace...
http://imaginepeace.com/
Deviant Art
Today October 9th, IMAGINE PEACE TOWER in Iceland will relight in memory of late musician John Lennon.

Please ask all your friends to join us by Tweeting your wishes to IMAGINE PEACE TOWER.

You can do this by going to http://IMAGINEPEACETOWER.com where you can also watch the lighting live with us at
7.45pm GMT = 8.45pm UK = 3.45pm NY = 12.45am LA = 4.45am Japan.

Tell all your friends. Spread the word. Let’s tweet a million wishes for peace for John’s birthday!

love,
yoko

We dedicate our light to you!
Watch the video here: Imagine Peace Tower on the island of Viðey, in Reykjavik, Iceland


IMAGINE PEACE TOWER is an outdoor work of art conceived by Yoko Ono in memory of John Lennon. It is situated on Viðey Island in Reykjavík, Iceland. The artwork was dedicated to John by Yoko at its unveiling on October 9th 2007, John Lennons 67th birthday.

IMAGINE PEACE TOWER symbolizes Lennons and Onos continuing campaign for world peace - which began in the sixties, was sealed by their marriage in 1969 and will continue forever.

The words IMAGINE PEACE are inscribed on the Well in 24 different languages.

IMAGINE PEACE TOWER is composed of a tall shimmering tower of light that will appear every year and be visible from October 9th (Johns birthday) until December 8th (the anniversary of his passing).

In addition, the Tower will illuminate from Winter Solstice (December 21st 28th), on New Years Eve (December 31st) and the first week of spring (March 21st -28th). It is lit from 2 hours after sunset until midnight, and until dawn on New Years Day.

On 9th October, John Lennons birthday, Yoko Ono asks the people of Iceland to join her and many others across the rest of the world in praying for peace and stability.

At 8pm, as IMAGINE PEACE TOWER is illuminated on the island of Viðey, in Reykjavik, Iceland, she asks everyone to join together and let the power of light and prayer become a collective expression of the desire for peace and harmony on our planet.

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Purge? PURGE !!??

Why do you purge? Some things are meant to be heard.

Selftalk 101

... purge

nazi bastards who purge!

"Everybody knows what a head looks like!"
This is from the writing of one of my drawing instructors from days past...

Upside Down Head - Right Side Up (Jean Detheux)
In most of the figure drawing classes that are taught elsewhere, tailored to serve character animation today or not, the last thing "we" want in that field is any traces of doubt and ambiguity. The figure is to be considered a known entity and the students have to be proficient in the established ways of manipulating and rendering it. The figure has to remain within the boundaries established by habitual clichés One is not allowed to "fail" when trying to capture the appearance of the figure, therefore one is forced to cater to the innuendoes and expectations of the societal models (see below: "A head? A head? Everybody knows what a head looks like!").

In the late thirties, Alberto Giacometti was a highly regarded member of André Breton's surrealist group. As he was having problems with the making of a head (a sculpture), he hired a model, a model he planned on keeping for about a week, a time he felt would be more than sufficient for him to master the head once again and go on with his own compositions. However, the more he looked at the model, the more he worked on his sculptures and drawings, the more mysterious the whole thing became. "Nothing was like I imagined," he said.

At about the same time, Breton came to visit Giacometti's studio and was very annoyed at seeing him working once again "from the visible." When Alberto tried to explain to him why he was working again so diligently "from nature," Breton went into a fury, shouting: "A head? A head? Everybody knows what a head looks like!"

Giacometti's "Nothing was like I imagined" is a real key here, and I posit that the point of all Art (to which animation has a lot to contribute) is to give both the artist and the viewer(s) a glimpse of the difference between the world we take for granted (as we "imagine" and expect it to be), and the world as uniquely experienced by each one of us bereft of those expectations.

"Art is what makes me see" is possibly one of the most meaningful things ever said about that.

Who would dare today to go into an art school and say point-blank: "Can you please help me, I just want to try to paint things as I really see them?"


Yet, this was the avowed aim of Giacometti's work, of his life. I am convinced he shared that exploration of the visible with his "spiritual grandfather" Cézanne (he said so himself) and with so many other artists we admire so much today (but possibly for the wrong reasons).

"Things are not what they appear to be, nor are they otherwise."

"The mature Cézanne had no designs on the field of vision except to uncover the designs he saw in it. It is this suspension of will power that gives him admission to the undifferentiated world which precedes knowledge, to Eden as it was before Adam conferred separating names on each form of vegetal and mineral growth."
(Yale Review, Spring 1980, by Ronald Hayman)

Where I come from:

"Everybody knows what a head looks like!" - by Jean Detheux

http://www.nondidjuti.net/animation/part_1.html
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Well, the confounded infernal combustion machines have begun their thunder and clunk at my window, at 7a this morning; Who knows what they're deconstructing now?

.
Here the Crows Have It! ~ (first, allow me to offer the following poem about another natural occurrence similar to construction equipment outside my window) CROWS :
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"A Far Cry From Africa" ~ inverted pencil drawing by Lucan Charchuk
See also "A Far Cry From Africa"
http://beauxdesarts.livejournal.com/6677.html
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CROWS !!!
There you have it,
The crows have it!
They bitch and bawl,
Crow and caw,
From atop of every gable and wall,
Trash bin,
Fence and log,
Treetop and crows nest; Pterodactyl call,
They herald yet another dawn; Yawn… a gathering of crows
Yammer and yawl!
Caw, caw, caw!
It’s enough to drive anyone servile
It weakens their victims; we cringe –
A gang of crows, are plotting a murder
They are casing the neighbourhood
Looking for clues, in piles of refuse,
Gathering trinkets for their roost
Thereon begins
The scavenger-kill; Crows,
Swoop, fell and strike!
Shadow on victim
Bordering on
Aggravated assault.
Claw your hair, peck your eyes out!
The crows, The Caws!!!
Crows ~ Lucan Charchuk Art 2005
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Crows by the Gothic Archies ~ Rapscallions rap scat!
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=AWgssRWMD6o

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This is the first day I am awake without pressure of task and deadline, heading into next week, which I perceive will be challenging. The more we play with others, the more song and dance there is. So I will take this time to begin a response to your (Norm's) knock-knock invitation, "What are Canadian values and why do we value them?"
See Also Spirit of Place ~ The Great Canadian Landscape
http://beauxdesarts.livejournal.com/6515.html
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Take me to Odessa on the tongue of the Black Sea, lapping at the waves on the shores of her femininity...
.
Contempt for Potemkin ~ Remember the Battleship?
"It isn't so much a port as a chic, unique, cosmopolitan mix of beauties and beasts..."
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"Don't pretend," she says. "We are the best-looking girls in the world and you know why? Potemkin!"
Sea Hag sculpture by Tampa artist, Juan Cabana
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"What's it got to do with him?"
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"When Potemkin conquered these lands from 1783 to 1791," she replies, "he found them almost empty and embarked on one of the biggest campaigns of settlement and cultivation ever since before the railways opened up the American West, attracting settlers from Germany to Corsica, England to Sweden. That's why the girls here are so fine – Potemkin's diversity!"

Sailors From The Battleship Potemkin/ Workers From the Railway Station/ Odessa Angels
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Take me to Odessa on the tongue of the Black Sea, lapping at the waves on the shores of her femininity...

http://www.odessaglobe.com/publication-en.php?id=194
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Speak to me of days gone by and equanimity! Then Atlas shrugged...

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In the Lion's hollow jaw, the women were swept out to sea...

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Odessa Street ~ Odessa By the Sea


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The Battleship Potemkin (1905) ~ Sergei Eisenstein (1925)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battleship_Potemkin_uprising
http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Bungalow/1204/potemkin.htm
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not so romantic anymore...

"Ship in Odessa Harbour" 1852, Ivan Aivazovskiy (1817-1900)
http://www.russianpaintings.net/doc.vphp?id=738

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Odessa's shipping port - nothing is sacred these days

Crimes of the Heart in Crimea...
http://odessa.russian-women.net/

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The Problem ~ Rising Sex Tourism
KIEV, Ukraine -- Students from several universities dressed as prostitutes to draw attention to a problem many Ukrainians say is tarnishing their country.

Protesters hold posters and watch a performance during a demonstration in central Kiev, July 30, 2008. Demonstrators of an organisation Femen called to denounce the notion of sex tourism in the country.

"We are not for sale:" a group of Ukrainian women gathered in central Kiev to protest against the country's burgeoning sex tourism industry.

The women - students from several universities - dressed as prostitutes to draw attention to a problem many Ukrainians say is tarnishing their country.

"Lots of foreigners come here for sex, and to put it bluntly sex tours are now being sold. We don't want our country to become a big brothel. It's a shame and it's shameful," says one of the protestors.

Prostitution is illegal but widespread and largely ignored by the government.

Ukrainian police estimate there are approximately 12,000 prostitutes in Ukraine, with 4,000 working in Kiev alone.

The former Soviet republic may lag far behind Thailand on the list of sex tourists' favourite destinations, but it's moving up - thanks in part to the easing of visa restrictions on American and European Union citizens.

Ukraine is one of the largest exporters of women to the international sex industry - a damning statistic.

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, almost half a million Ukrainian women have been trafficked into sexual slavery abroad - and now increasingly at home as well.

Source: News Radio 600
http://blog.kievukraine.info/2008_08_01_archive.html

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The Solution ~ Students Protest Ukraine's Sex Tourism Industry
KIEV, Ukraine -- Good -looking women can be a country’s greatest attraction and biggest problem – at the same time. This seems to be the case in Ukraine, which is becoming a prime European destination for sex tourists.

Protesters hold posters and watch a performance during a demonstration in central Kiev, July 30, 2008. Demonstrators of an organisation Femen called to denounce the notion of sex tourism in the country.

Eight skimpily clad female college students held placards reading “Ukraine is Not a Bordello” in many languages on Kyiv’s Independence Square on July 30. They were protesting the advent of increasingly more sex tourists coming to the country.

The 50 -person, awareness- raising show – complete with male ballet dancers acting as pimps in flashy suits – caught the public’s eye and brought the issue to the forefront.

“This is insulting to us [women] and it harms the country’s image since we’re increasingly becoming a country of destination for tourists whose sole purpose is to have sex with our women,” said Anna Hutsol, the leader of FEMEN, a loose- knit women’s movement of mostly female students who organized the provocative demonstration.

“We take this issue very seriously. We are pushing for legislation to forbid sex tourists from entering the country. We are sick of men looking at us like pieces of meat,” Hutsol added.

Non -governmental organizations like FEMEN are not the only ones who have noticed the new sex tourism boom. Government officials, public relations professionals and those in the entertainment industry are also starting to say something needs to be done to counteract the trend and Ukraine’s image as a haven for sex tourists.

“Ukraine has a competitive advantage, simply put, our women are the best in the world,” said Vasyl Myroshnychenko, a partner at CFC, a strategic communications, government relations and investment consulting firm. “What Ukraine needs to do [to improve its image tainted by corruption, sex tourism and other problems] is to conduct a positive image campaign with systemic, consistent and coordinated support from the top.”

Hutsol says Ukrainian women are already equated with prostitutes abroad – an image that adds headaches to women seeking visas and facing embarassing interviews with foreign embassies.

Some observers attribute the increase of sex tourists to the government’s visa regime relaxation in 2005.

“There’s a definite correlation between the new visa -free regime and visitors to my club, as is true in other places in Kyiv such as, Arena and Avalon,” said Ray McRobbie, director of entertainment and marketing at River Palace, whose night club is reputed for short- term matchmaking.

It is virtually impossible to track the statistics of so called “sexpats” traveling to Ukraine, however.

“The growing amount of sex tourists entering Ukraine has not escaped us, but it is very difficult to measure their numbers,” said Andriy Shenin, an expert at the state tourism administration.

In 2007, 23 million foreigners visited Ukraine, according to the administration, up 22 percent over 2006. The vast majority of foreigners came mainly from former Soviet republics. However, the greatest rise in the numbers was from the European Union and other non -CIS nations. That category showed a 96 per cent rise, or 725,000 more visitors.

Police told Korrespondent, the Kyiv Post’s Russian language sister publication, that some 12,000 prostitutes operate in Ukraine's $700 million sex industry. The figure is comparable to the annual profits of RosUkrEnergo, a Swiss registered intermediary company that supplies Ukraine with gas, but pales in comparison with Thailand’s multi- billion dollar sex industry. The Interior Ministry’s press service said this number is “very high” for Ukraine where prostitution is prohibited under law.

Hutsol said police figures heavily underestimate the situation. Low student stipends and the capital’s high prices are pushing more young women into prostitution, she added.

“Most women I spoke with are ashamed and do this out of poverty but some also do it out of material desire,” Hutsol added.

A 45 -year German businessman who runs a sex tourist web portal says there are too few well- paying jobs for university educated women. “They see luxury cars and houses and they want it now so they either compete for sugar daddies or willingly sell themselves,” he said.

One example he gave was about a smart, open minded recent graduate who works for an insurance company, but who also services VIP clients at a rate of $2,000 per month. He calls it the “I want everything and I want it now” mentality of young women from 19 to 22 years of age. Prices for their services start from $20 for oral sex and can run up to $5,000 per hour for VIP clients, but usually fall in the $100 -$300 range.

The German portal owner said Ukraine’s proximity to Europe and its relatively inexpensive prices makes it a good destination for sex seeking enthusiasts. His site contains 32 sub directories for Kyiv alone billed as “everything you need for a pleasure weekend."

"The girls here are tall and slim, and getting them into bed is easy. Moreover they are fun to party with,” he said.

The party can be booked on line. A two- day sex tour advertised runs $1,250 -$1,600, depending on the type of girl and her English speaking skills. The site offers confidentiality and discreet billing, private cottages outside of Kyiv or apartments in the capital, round -trip transport to Boryspil airport and discounts for longer stays.

Lack of moral values is also cited as a factor driving Ukraine's sex business. Barely legal girls released from state -run orphanages and boarding homes are especially at risk, said Iryna Konchenkova, head of the international non- profit School of Equal Opportunities. Her organization combats child labor, child pornography and trafficking.

“Morals are not instilled at the state operated orphanages. When I speak to the older girls at these institutions, all they talk about are cigarettes, cars and so on without realizing how much they cost or how much they have to work to purchase them,” Konchenkova said.

This materialist approach leads them to prostitution as the fast track to acquiring the things they want, Konchenkova said pointing to street children and rural residents as two other at risk groups because of their low educational levels and lack of parental guidance.

Hutsol is concerned that the Euro 2012 Soccer Championship will bring an influx of male sexpat tourists.

“We are developing an action plan leading to the 2012 cup. We are a fast growing organization with a strong network and so we’ll build on this to hang social billboards on city life which will feature photo sessions with famous people, and partner with other organizations doing similar things to build a strong coalition,” Hutsol added.

Source: Kyiv Post
http://blog.kievukraine.info/2008_08_01_archive.html
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Trip to Odessa by the Sea

Kickin' Down the Cobblestones
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Feeling Groovy...
http://www.deadprogrammer.com/category/odessa-trip
Apartment Dweller
http://mjbiphotojournal.wordpress.com/2007/10/23/glimpses-of-odessa-ukraine/
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Crimes of the Heart in Crimea... I hesitate to think for how these images were paid.
http://odessa.russian-women.net/
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hell's bells elle your one hell of a belle!

she walks in beauty with the night... byron

http://mural.uv.es/mapicas/WalterCrane2.jpg

Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
you have moon-lines, apple-pathways: pablo neruda

"Love is the emblem of eternity: it confounds all notion of time: effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end."