Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, August 2011 (1)

For some of us, the Jean Paul Gaultier exhibition currently at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts is of only peripheral interest. Gaultier doesn’t need my review of his work, he’s wealthy and well known, but I also wonder if this work belongs in a museum? Probably not. However, it is a lot cheaper for a museum to present haute couture from France than traditional “art.” I am not too sure why this exhibition was presented in the summer months as it might have little appeal to tourists who would correctly think they would be seeing "art" in a museum, not a fashion show from France. And, at first, it has the aura of the worst of French society and the fashion industry, exclusivity, insularity, smugness, self-righteousness, and self-satisfaction.


It was not before I had seen half of the show that the clue into this exhibition of Gaultier’s work dawned on me. There were the creepy talking mannequins, the pointy bras popularized by Madonna, and the kind of costumes you see in fashion magazines that are not for actual wearing but are the folly and pretense of fashion designers like Gaultier. Gaultier is well known and lives in an exclusive world, one to which most of us don't have access.

But there is a clue to Gaultier's exhibition. It is that Gaultier has done what all great artists try to do, he has perceived the zeitgeist, he knows what will be popular before the public knows what they are want, and he explores the collective psyche of French society. In this exhibition, Gaultier has opened the collective unconscious and manifested it in his designs. This is not to say that Gaultier is a “great artist,” but only to state that he has done something remarkable, something that is of interest. These items of clothing express the collective unconscious of the French nation, each is an expression of some archetypal aspect of the French psyche.

Gaultier’s exhibition is all about the psychic content of French consciousness and it is an expression of archetypes. The exhibition disturbs some of us because psychic content can be disturbing. And what is it that Gaultier pulls up into consciousness? It is about glamour, extroversion, colour, pretence, and appearance without depth. But it is also about fun, costume, and wearing our psychological complexes in public.
Gaultier’s show is a carnival of appearance, it shows a life of great variety and imagination, it is a celebration of life, and a celebration of superficial folly signifying very little to the average viewer. It is not my world but I can appreciate what Gaultier is doing because if you compare Gaultier’s vision to a possible exhibition of what comprises the American psyche--the growing spiritual emptiness of American society, the lack of culture in much of America, America as the military police of multi-national corporations, and of all the other stereotypes that have at least an essence of truth to them--then Gaultier's vision has a significance that may have been missed. His vision is, at the least, the expression of psychic content--the collective unconscious, archetypes, dreams--and it is both fascinating and an affirmation of life.

On the Champlain Bridge (2)

Backyard at Belmore

At Pierre Elliot Trudeau Airport, Montreal

On the Champlain Bridge

Hotel Dieu Hospital, Montreal

from the last election

This is what people think of their former heroes, a caricature, with a little Hitler moustache for that je ne sais quoi effect.

wedding day at Alexis Nihon Plaza

the wolves have turned their backs to us

Belmore on May 23, 2011

Construction of mega-hospital

Champlain Bridge

Across the street from Emile Nelligan's home on Laval Avenue

On Laval Avenue, Emile Nelligan's street...

A Poet's Journey: Notes on Poetry and What it Means to be a Poet (10)

A Poet's Journey: on poetry and what it means to be a poet, 
Ekstasis Editions, 2019

Marriage between a man and a woman—the expression of male and female energy—is a basic archetype of life. In the archetypal dimension we come close to universal laws that govern life. To deviate too far from the archetypes is to lose touch with what connects us to humanity, wisdom, and the eternal. It is also dangerous to be absorbed or possessed by an archetype, to lose the separateness of individuality and archetype.
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A number of years ago, out of curiosity, I became interested in the Holy Spirit. I read the bible—in several translations—for the first time. I made notes and studied what I was reading. I began by trying to remember the words to the Lord’s Prayer, which I had forgotten, and with some effort the words returned to me from my youth. I thought about each sentence of the Lord’s Prayer, it seemed incredible that I could have wandered as far from God as I had, because I felt very close to God as a child.
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The root meaning of the word “enthusiasm” is to be “filled with God.” To be “filled with God” is to have a spirited approach to life. Dis-spirited people drag themselves through life, they aren’t “filled with God.” To have lost our enthusiasm is to be dis-spirited at a very basic level of everyday life. Someone who is spiritually and emotionally depleted, has been dis-spirited. As a child I knew what it meant to feel “collapsed inside”—“The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind, / My face turns green and pale,” as William Blake describes someone looking back on his unself-conscious youth. It was a struggle to survive the life that I was born to, but I created a new life, and I always affirmed life; this was accomplished, at least in part, by writing poems. The spiritual, for me, is nourished by and manifested in the poems I am writing.

Stephen Morrissey
2003 - 2008
Montreal, Canada

A Poet's Journey: Notes on Poetry and What it Means to be a Poet (9)

A Poet's Journey: on poetry and what it means to be a poet, 
Ekstasis Editions, 2019

When I heard that a friend’s sister, living in New York City, was a “shaman,” I thought it was mildly humourous. Then, by chance, I read a transcript of one of her shamanic healing journeys. I found it fascinating. I said, “ I can do that.” It is not really “hard” to journey, but I also had years of foundational work before I could begin exploring shamanism. It is now clear to me that I began my shamanic work when I was a child and had experiences and listened to dreams that made a deep impression on me.
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The shamanic journey is not the product of imagination and it is not a guided meditation; it is also not “active imagination.” What you do on a journey is watch, observe, and later record what one experiences. It has nothing to do with influencing what happens on the journey, and it is not dreaming or lucid dreaming in which you attempt to control your dreams. The intentionality of the journey is the shaman’s, but the details of the journey are only discovered during the shamanic journey.
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When I read some of the astrological degree sets invented by other people, I knew that this was something I wanted to do and that I could do. Then Carolyn Joyce and I spent several weeks during which I dictated what I saw on shamanic journeys and we wrote The Aquarian Symbols (Coracle Press, Vancouver, Montreal, 2000). Each degree is a symbol; it is what was seen in each of 360 shamanic journeys. I did not know for which degree or sign I was journeying to write a symbol, this was all done without my being told this information; all I did was the journey and then report what was seen.
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The Aquarian Symbols are archetypal images, one for each of the 360 degrees of the zodiac. The Aquarian Symbols were not channeled, but the result of 360 individual shamanic journeys. They are to be meditated upon. For each symbol I “flew” over Vancouver, the city where they were written, and descended where the archetypal image would be given to me. Nothing was decided by me or determined by me, or by anyone else. Sometimes I entered a tunnel and sped, on a roller coaster-like ride, to the inside of the earth. What was seen during the journey was then recorded.
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The language or imagery of the shamanic journey is made up of archetypes and symbols, both are found in the collective unconscious; however, what one sees during a shamanic journey is what is literally seen on the journey, not as archetypes, not as symbols, but as fact. The poet’s journey is not the same thing as the shaman’s journey, but there are some similarities.
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A Poet's Journey: Notes on Poetry and What it Means to be a Poet (8)

A Poet's Journey: on poetry and what it means to be a poet, 
Ekstasis Editions, 2019

As a woman animates and brings to life a man’s potential, CZ has animated me to live more fully and deeply. She is a person of compassion and intelligence who has helped many people, including myself, fulfill their talent and destiny. She is a brilliant poet who has also worked as an editor and publisher. We have been together since we met in June, 1991; she brought love into my life and gave me a new and fuller life. I love her dearly and my life revolves around her. She is my life partner, my creative partner, my friend and partner in family affairs. All of my life I had wanted to find someone like her, and I thank God that I did find her.
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Family history is a quest that can take up years of one’s life, but eventually it returns us to our own life, more fulfilled and with a deeper appreciation of life. You don’t necessarily go on a quest knowing you are on one; it is something that gradually preoccupies much of one’s time. My quest was to find my ancestors, to list them genealogically, and to find information about them: who they are, their dates of birth and death, where they lived, and some facts about their lives. Writing poetry is not a quest, it is a calling; family history has been a quest.
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When I was a child I knew, intuitively, that the stories I heard my relatives tell about the family were important. I felt there was heroism to life, not the traditional heroism and bravery of the battlefield, but heroism involved in everyday life by everyday people. I felt that there was something of importance to remembering the past. I recorded the stories I heard about my relatives and ancestors. Even as a child I always felt that the real heroes of everyday life were average people, the ones who survive and who go about their lives with dignity. It is the ordinary people among us who I found to be of great interest.
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I often think about the ancestors. I work through all the generations of my family, beginning with the first family members to move to Montreal. My great great grandfather, Laurence Morrissey, moved from Ireland to New Brunswick, Canada in 1837 in the company of his parents (my great great great grandparents Patrick Morrissy and Mary Phelan) and his six siblings: John, Michael, Mary, and Patrick who were all older than Laurence, and Catherine, the youngest of the children. The whole family uprooted themselves from where they lived, possibly in Mullinahone, County Tipperary, and moved as a group to Canada. Patrick, Laurence’s father, was a saddler by profession and not a young man when he moved here; he may have been as old as fifty years. What caused them to move, whether by necessity or the desire to improve the material prospects of the family, isn’t known. I believe Laurence married within months of arriving in New Brunswick and a few years later he and his wife, Johannah Meany and their son, or perhaps two sons, moved to Montreal.
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I honour and respect the ancestors by remembering them. I am in a direct line of ancestors according to family dates of birth and death. I was born just days before the first day of the Celtic season of Beltane, on May 1st, which for the Celts was the first day of summer. Beltane, with Samhain, winter, is the time when the Otherworld is closest to our material world. Samhain, which begins on November 1st, is the first day of winter for the Celts, and is a time when the days grow shorter and the fabric between the material world and the world of the ancestors and spirit is at its thinnest. This is when the ancestors communicate with us the most, whether it is in dreams, or their physical presence.
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One November night I sat in a restaurant with some friends. After we ate a band played music. While the others listened I was filled with deeply moving memories of my father and later that night wrote a poem about the final days of his life, of his journey to a hospital in Boston where he died a few weeks later. The next day I discovered it was the forty-seventh anniversary of my father’s death. The ancestors visit us if we listen to them. On many occasions I have walked on the street and felt the presence of ancestors walking with me; I have felt them pressing against me when they have numbered in the hundreds.
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The work of writing poems, honouring the ancestors, the work of healing in poetry, all of this is given to me. I have really been very passive in life. My life was given to me, it was presented to me as a mission in which I am sometimes little more than an observer of what happens. This is the work that was given to me: writing poems, honouring the ancestors, giving time, care, and love to my family, and loving God.
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I love all of the ancestors, no matter how elevated or how lowly their social position when they were alive. Some of the ancestors are a daily presence in my life, as though they were physically present. I believe I have a connection, extending across my whole life, with the ancestors. I loved my grandmother, Edith Sweeney, who died one month short of her ninetieth birthday, on April 23, 1965, and who was buried the day before my fifteenth birthday in April 1965. My great grandmother, Mary Callaghan was born on my mother’s birthday, March 1st, and died in 1906 on my birthday, April 27. Mary Callaghan’s father died on my birthday, in 1905. My great great grandmother, Johannah Meany, died on April 26th, 1880. Her husband, my great great grandfather Laurence Morrissey, married Marie Emma Mercier, a year to the day after Johannah’s funeral, on April 29, 1881. Out of all the dozens of dates of family members’ births and deaths that I have recorded, these are some of the people I feel are the closest to me in my family history, all are in a direct line of family ancestors. I have in my own way and to the best of my ability honoured seven generations of family members.
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On Pine Avenue near St. Laurent Boulevard