Diamond Luke and the Crystal Receptors
Created | Updated Oct 20, 2010
Diamond Luke is an artist. He creates paintings.
His friends call him Diamond Luke as people say his paintings have a curious multi-faceted diamond-like sparkle.
Luke calls his paintings The Crystal Receptors or The Crystal Receivers. He says that they are not just responsive to light. Luke also hears his paintings. Sometimes he hears electronic-type sounds that he says are akin to otherwordly whispers. At other times he hears the echoes and vibrations of time itself, which he refers to as The Music of Aeons.
Luke often asks people if they can hear the sound of his paintings. He likes to jot down the answers in the form of a list, as he finds this to be a poetic process.
Here is an example from one of his lists:
1) No! I myself can't hear your paintings, but my friend once heard whispers in her teapot.
2) Of course I can hear the sound of your paintings! It might not be Pink Floyd but it does sound almost angelic with shadow-tones.
3) Crystal receivers? And then came digital radio.
4) My cousin hears sorrowful minor chords in fountains and waterfalls.
5) No! The only people who hear the sound of paintings live in a zone called I Hear Blackbirds in my Birdbrain.
6)Perhaps the sound you are hearing is the canvas responding to differing room temperatures, or the blood rushing through the veins in your head. I like to look for logical explanations, although my mother once heard ghostly operatic arias coming from the attic.
7) Perhaps everything has its own music. Some people can create music from a wineglass or a blade of grass. Some hear music in the whirr of a fan or in the carpet-pattern - or in the rumble and roar of a momentary panic.
8) I fear the sound of pain. I worry that it will make my ears bleed.
9) I can hear the number 9. It is my lucky number, and the music of good-fortune is somehow choral and harmonious. Beethoven's Ninth Symphony is a work of genius, although I don't hear the number 9 quite like this. I'm afraid I can't hear your paintings, but I might be able to if there was a number 9 in them.
And on it goes. Do you get the picture?
<Do you get the picture>. Luke likes this expression. It makes him smile in that diamond-sparkly way that he does.
His friends call him Diamond Luke as people say his paintings have a curious multi-faceted diamond-like sparkle.
Luke calls his paintings The Crystal Receptors or The Crystal Receivers. He says that they are not just responsive to light. Luke also hears his paintings. Sometimes he hears electronic-type sounds that he says are akin to otherwordly whispers. At other times he hears the echoes and vibrations of time itself, which he refers to as The Music of Aeons.
Luke often asks people if they can hear the sound of his paintings. He likes to jot down the answers in the form of a list, as he finds this to be a poetic process.
Here is an example from one of his lists:
1) No! I myself can't hear your paintings, but my friend once heard whispers in her teapot.
2) Of course I can hear the sound of your paintings! It might not be Pink Floyd but it does sound almost angelic with shadow-tones.
3) Crystal receivers? And then came digital radio.
4) My cousin hears sorrowful minor chords in fountains and waterfalls.
5) No! The only people who hear the sound of paintings live in a zone called I Hear Blackbirds in my Birdbrain.
6)Perhaps the sound you are hearing is the canvas responding to differing room temperatures, or the blood rushing through the veins in your head. I like to look for logical explanations, although my mother once heard ghostly operatic arias coming from the attic.
7) Perhaps everything has its own music. Some people can create music from a wineglass or a blade of grass. Some hear music in the whirr of a fan or in the carpet-pattern - or in the rumble and roar of a momentary panic.
8) I fear the sound of pain. I worry that it will make my ears bleed.
9) I can hear the number 9. It is my lucky number, and the music of good-fortune is somehow choral and harmonious. Beethoven's Ninth Symphony is a work of genius, although I don't hear the number 9 quite like this. I'm afraid I can't hear your paintings, but I might be able to if there was a number 9 in them.
And on it goes. Do you get the picture?
<Do you get the picture>. Luke likes this expression. It makes him smile in that diamond-sparkly way that he does.
