Spotlight: Gregory James Wyrick

regory James is one of my favorite people.  Several years ago, he patiently nurtured my adolescent notion of writing poetry and encouraged me to awaken my muse, enduring many messages and emails. We met in person a couple of times, and have remained friends through Social Media.  To that end, I shall always be grateful.  

His greatest project (my humble opinion) is The Method Learned, which is an "international multi-medium collaborative endeavor of audio and visual translations," which attempt to "highlight various slices of the human experience; experiences that connect us together and that may serve as a catalyst for the sublime revelation of being alive to be realized."  


Beautiful. 

...And, let's be real.  I really don't know anyone else who can work the word "ekphrastic" into a sentence.

From THE METHOD LEARNED collection

BIO: Gregory James Wyrick is an author, artist, photographer and musician currently based in Detroit. His written work has been interpreted in various audio and visual forms by international artists through the ongoing ekphrastic project: The Method Learned. A collection of his written work of the same name was published in 2012. His photography has recently shown at Odditorium Detroit, Merge Gallery, The Dirty Show, and The Damned Show exhibitions. Collections of his photography include "Fractured Landscapes", "Les Jardins De La Mort" and "Night Flowers" with Tamara Heaton. 

Contact:  methodlearned@gmail.com

Author's spotlight: LULU

His written work has recently been featured in Antique Children Literary Journal, The Surreal Grotesque and the Into The Valley of Hinnom anthology. The Method Learned

Follow Gregory on  Red Bubble ~ 

or on Facebook

Purchase amazing art and poetry at Blurb Store

For some true mischief check this out:  http://antiquechildren.com/journal.html

Following are samples of his original photography, and [dark] poetry.  I have permission by Artist to publish this on my blog. Please be reminded [and respectful] that All Rights are Reserved.  These photos and poems are copyright, and will require permission to post, re-post or publish!  

 

Never by Darkness Restrained 

(Taken from The Method Learned)

I was compelled to deconstruct her graces delicately… 

 By meter and by limb, 

 For her true beauty lies yet undiscovered 

 Behind the veils of those angelic hymns

And even when bathed in night’s starless rays, 

 It’s eternal glow remains… 

Never aging, never fading… 

And never by darkness restrained.

~G. James Wyrick

The Ghost you Gave 

(taken from the forthcoming book: When The Day Takes)

…Not on the equinox of tender mercies, 

Nor in the arms of summer’s radiant dispatch… 

Not under the cloak of autumn’s decay ballet, 

 Nor gathered at the nave of winter’s haunted mass…

No… I don’t think we shall ever again meet…

Not in some perfection of heaven, 

 Nor adrift amid a diamond sea… 

 Nor gathered safely in a surrendered embrace, 

Nor slumbered inside a twilighted obscurity. 

Your blossoms are scatter about the ground 

Forming a phantom-limbed wedding gown…

No, we shall ever meet again…

Trembling, Severing divinity And Lost upon a flame.

~G. James Wyrick

BOOK REVIEW for THE METHOD LEARNED, 

by Tamara Heaton, Anthropologist, Political Activist and Actress

"The most crucial aspect of the artistic process is that the end result resonates to some part of our own humanity, reminding us that we are here - that we exist together even in solitude - in the pulchritude and the horror that we recognize as life. 

Art simultaneously creates order from chaos and chaos from order, perfectly defining the mania of our journey. 

The works in this compilation by Gregory James Wyrick accomplish all of these things and more. 

He leads you by the hand, blindfolds you and thrusts you over a cliff, while breaking your fall with delicate arms and soft, feverish kisses upon your forehead."

Caricature by Pat Hornstein

Finally, I cannot end today's post by NOT including one of Gregory James' most fascinating projects.  He is collecting scars. The project is called "VENUS VIVISECTION" – CALL FOR SCAR SUBMISSIONS FOR UPCOMING BOOK.

"The aim of this book:

1. To present a visual document showing that ALL women are sacred and beautiful.

2. To present the various scars on the bodies of women as badges of honor, affirmations of life and survival; postcards from the past denoting the process of living. This would include accident scars, disease-related scars, organ transplant scars, suicide attempt scars. Etc.

3. To starkly highlight the sacrifices that women are expected to make and endure based on being female. These would include birthing scars, cesarean scars…

4. To show what we, as a collective whole, do in regards to trying to obtain images and concepts of physical beauty. These would include plastic surgery scars, body modification scars, as well as all self-inflicted scars.

5. To highlight these scars as a physical manifestation worn in the flesh as evidence of the divine energy that ALL women possess."

"The book’s content will primarily consist of self-shot black and white still photography of women between the ages of 18 and 90 in portrait style showing their scars. The scars will range from the barely visible to the very large; scars ranging from minor injuries to those from major surgery and everything in between. This book’s purpose is to serve as a tribute to and celebration of all women who wear the scars proudly as representations of their conquests, their survival, their suffering, and their life experiences, etc."

Gregory James Wyrick

Once Abandoned, Now Restored, Williamstown, VT

This is West Hill Cemetery, located off of Route 64 in Williamstown, Vermont.  I believe the earliest death recorded here was in circa 1772 and it was used through approximately 1835.  The cemetery was left somewhat abandoned and very little maintenance was done for a long time.  It is also known as "Henry Road Cemetery."

Only recently the Town's Cemetery Commission has taken great care to restore this neglected site.  The grounds keeper for all of the cemeteries does an exceptional job of maintenance and care.  This dark and dreary cemetery of old is now decorated annually with Veteran flags and markers, the fence is repaired, the lawn is mowed, trees were removed.  The sign "West Hill Cemetery" now marks the road on the highway.  It is a bright and lovely spot to visit, thanks to the dedication of the Commission and volunteers, respectfully.  It is now being utilized for new burials, as well.

About 20 years ago, I ventured into this cemetery with my parents, and was able to record some amazing epitaphs which were rather Gothic in nature.  Most were from the early 1800's.  I am so happy that I recorded them, as today the print is gone and they are not readable.   Had I not recorded them at that time, they would have been lost forever!!!  I have posted a few of the epitaphs at the end of this blog, and I hope that you appreciate the pensive poetry, as much as I do.  

The following 4 photographs are of a grave that a tree grew around.  A very skillful person with a saw was able to remove the tree without harming the grave.  

Tree that grew around the grave of Mr. William Robinson

A very crooked grave, marked only by initials and a star.

The cemetery is now once again, acting as a permanent home to new residents.  This grave memorializes John Clark for his love of auto racing.

Some stones are virtually beyond repair.  As you can see, moss and time has eaten away the letters on this stone, and it is unreadable. 

A lovely, ornate fence surrounds this plot.

Cenotaph for Henry M. Smith, twice wounded in the Civil War. 

Willow engraving - very common through out the world.

"Gravestone carvers created weeping willows alone or with Greek-inspired urns, obelisks, or monuments.  The most obvious meaning of a weeping willow would seem to be the “weeping” part…for mourning or grieving for a loved one.  The saying “she is in her willows” implies the mourning of a female for a lost mate.  And while the Victorians took the art of mourning to new heights, the weeping willow was not just a symbol for sadness."

"A native of Asia, the weeping willow is a fast growing tree that can reach fifty feet high and fifty feet wide.  It tolerates most any soil and roots easily from cuttings.  Because of this, they are often the first trees to appear in a disturbed site, giving them a reputation as “healers and renewers.” In many cultures, the willow is a sign of immortality, and is associated with the moon, water and femininity.  The weeping willow also has connections to Greece as Orpheus, their most celebrated poet, carried willow branches with him on his journey through the Underworld. The Greek sorceress Circe planted a riverside cemetery with willow trees, dedicated to Hecate and her moon magic.  It was common to place willow branches in the coffins of the dead, and then plant young saplings on their grave". - callmetaphy

West Hill Cemetery Epitaphs - many are no longer readable -(recorded around 1989):

"Weep not my friends nor mourn too much

'Twas God that gave the heavy touch

Submit to His afflicting stroke

Nor by your murmurings Heaven provoke

My flesh shall slumber in the ground

Till the last trumpet joyful sound

Then burst the tomb with glad surprise

and in my Savior's image rise."

-Mrs. Jacob Burnham, d) 22 Nov. 1805, age 25

"My friends, my friends,

Don't weep for me

But see that you prepared be

For that great solemn awful day

When heaven and earth 

Shall be on fire, the mountains quake,

Sea's retire

And all creation in dismay."

Ester Walcott, d) 22 Feb. 1810, age 80

"Here sleeps what late was lovely, bright and gay

Closed are those eyes that beamed a cheery ray

The quiet hand of death is on that tongue

On whose accents of we fondly hung."

-Lucy Crane, d) 1816, age 10

"Oh you see me now in death's cold arms

Closing my eyes on all your worldy charms

Oh when my youthful mates you chance to see

Warn them of death, you bid them, think of me."

-Abia Crane, d) 1814

"Weep not for me, but let each falling tear

Drop for yourselves, you yet must wander here

In this dark veil where sins and sorrows grow

But death will find you, God, the hour doth know."

-Joseph Crane, d) 1819

"Read this and reading learn your fate

The aged and the youth must die

How frail is life, how short its date

The sentence sure, the season night." 

- Miss Catey Smith, d_ 1814

"Blessed are the dead which die 

In the Lord, that they may rest

from their labors, and their words 

do follow them."

-Deacon Richard Martyn, d) 1816

"My Savior will my life restore

And call me from my dark abode

My flesh and soul shall part no more

But dwell forever near my God."

- John Martin, d) 1814

Unfortunately, I did not record names or dates of the following - they are some of the best I have ever found:

"Incessant rapid roll the wheels of time

Year after year in swift succession speeds

How short man's infancy to prime

From prime how decrepit age succeeds."

'Life is a journey soon to cease

A race that is not over long

All infants wail an old man's song -

Until the last trumpet sounds

Then he will rise among the blessed

To be in endless glory crowned."

My favorite epitaph - ever:

"The storm that wracks the winter sky

No more disturbs its repose,

That summer's evenings' latest sigh,

that shuts the rose."