Theimages in this portfolio were originally inspired by the eerie feelingof impending apocalypse in W. B. Yeats’ poem, The Second Coming. Later I realized that, for me, these images suggest mysterious darkemotions far beyond the scope of the poem. To my sensibilities,the portfolio does have a thematic coherence, but my efforts to expressit have succeeded only in limiting its meaning. So I simply offerup the original inspiration and let the images speak for themselves.
Turning andturning in the widening gyre
The falconcannot hear the falconer;
Things fallapart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchyis loosed upon the world,
Theblood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremonyof innocence is drowned;
The best lackall conviction, while the worst
Are full ofpassionate intensity.
Surely somerevelation is at hand;
Surely theSecond Coming is at hand.
The SecondComing! Hardly are those words out
When a vastimage out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles mysight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape withlion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blankand pitiless as the sun,
Is moving itsslow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadowsof the indignant desert birds.
The darknessdrops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries ofstony sleep
Were vexed tonightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what roughbeast, its hour come round at last,
Slouchestowards Bethlehem to be born?
- William Butler Yates (1920-21)