Thursday, August 31, 2006
The wind has started to blow
we are on a crash course
I don’t know what changed
but suddenly it is there
in your eyes
Before this hot, hot summer
I’d never noticed
now it’s all I see
Like a Dali painting
with a double image
beautiful and strange
There is an urgency
to my longing
I never felt possible
Deep, dark caverns
of my imagination
are lit with you
Caves of Lascaux
ever in motion
I am the bull
charging with purpose
above a galloping herd
You are there below
A roan mare
wanting to be captured
This is the timeless pursuit
of an utterly intrinsic need
calling from beyond
Artist's statement: I used to read People magazine a lot, but then it started to bore me. Not only was there way too much writing, but it was also mostly stories about people who have overcome adversity and stuff like that.
Who cares?, I thought. You've triumped over adversity? Big deal. What I really want to know is whether you've ever gotten loaded with Lindsey Lohan, or whether it's true that Jessica Simpson is actually even dumber than she seems, and people only tolerate her b/c she's so beautiful. Also, I've found that even celebrity gossip mags like Star! still have too many words-- too much writing. My goal with this project is to simplify celebrity gossip even further, reducing it to just pictures and text "bites".
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
A male nude with the head of a siberian tiger is following a prancing female nude with the head of a deer over three hills through three gates. A family of neanderathals watches on. There's a horse in the far background.
The sky is storming and there are three metalic knotted stars of David.
Id like to start at 250$ for this painting.
These paintings are medium size roughly 1.5 feet by 2.5 feet.
A male figure is following a nude female with an elk's head over three hills, through three gates from a temple in the background.
Bob Marley with the head of a rare species of large cat from south america is playing a ballad in the foreground.
Overhead there are five celtic knot pentacles.
The decorative border is checkered red and metalic gold with tanric symbols.
This painting is for sale to the highest bidder. Id like to ask a very low starting price of 300$. If you know someone who might like this painting, Ill give you a 15% commision price for a successful deal.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
--Jean Francois Lyotard, Scapeland
Monday, August 28, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
(if you're looking for an international perspective on the world, the BBC is pretty good, w/ links to everywhere)
the picture is from a demonstration in the downtown of sydney, australia, where "body bags" were placed all over the business district to remind people of the real, human cost of war.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Silent green mystery
Idea dreams slip away
Like giant luminous squid
Fading in the darkness
There, beneath a flashing buoy
Locked in a sharks cage
I found my beating heart
Surrounded by clouds
I pulled it out
From the barnacle crusted prison
Magma filled veins pulsed again
A tsunami of elvis confidence
Hurled me back to the warm sandy shore
Circumambulation is the movement around a holy object, or of a holy object. The completion of a circle of protection, or of community, creates an integrity that is otherwise difficult to obtain in this world. The application of this in religions is diverse: examples include the Hajj (the Muslim circumambulation of the Ka'ba); the Prayer Wheel in Tibet; the stupa and Bo tree in Buddhism; the respect shown to the Adi Granth on entering a gurdwara; Lavan; the Hindu "following the sun" around the sacred fire and, in the temple (and, in pradaksina, to go around any sacred object, person, or place, including the whole of India; the seven circuits (hakkafot) around a cemetery before a burial by Sephardi and Hasidic Jews. In Witchcraft the magic circle would be a circumambulation. A.G.H.
Source of text:
Drawing by James Culleton
Bowker, John, The Oxford Dictionary of World Religions, New York, Oxford University Press, 1997, p. 224
Friday, August 25, 2006
Unfortunately I won't make it to the burning man festival this year. But I know someone who is. So Im sending this tiny emmisary along to scout out the place and represent me and us and Manitoba at the festival.
His face is the face of a persian cat. His sheild is the sheild of a roman legionary. His banner is the crescent moon and the eye and reads 'emmisary of the Manitoba Smoky TIger". He rides a black and white heifer.
Hopefully he will return from this quest with good tidings and perhaps he may even bring back some treasure. Or perhaps he will not return, having fallen in love along the way.
Maps are surrounding me, placing me in the world, triangulating my position, leaving destructive and indulgent patterns behind for the future(and for my morale soul).
Techno junkie, with a cellphone and a GPS and a digital camera and a computer, getting swallowed into the virtual vortex. My hands do the dancing across all these items. The pen it dances, but now I am the pen, and my dance across this province is nothing more than a single line, connecting waypoint to waypoint.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The Divine is not real as we are real, nor is it unreal. The divine is not living in the sense humans live, nor is it dead. The Divine is not compassionate as we use the term, nor is it uncompassionate. And so on. We can never truly define God in words. All we can do is say, it isn't this, but also, it isn't that either". In the end, the student must transcend words to understand the nature of the Divine.
In this sense, neti-neti is not a denial. Rather, it is an assertion that whatever the Divine may be, when we attempt to capture it in human words, we must inevitably fall short, because we are limited in understanding, and words are limited in ability to express the transcendent.
To me it's the difference between philosophy and religion. Philosophy seeks to understand things by framing them in words. Religion seeks to understand directly. And I feel that Religion in this sense is superior to Philosophy. The religious dude gets enlightenment as the grand prize whereas the philosopher gets a really good book or essay.
I think I was accused sometime back of following back on this basic premise whenever I see fit in discussions. And to me this makes perfect sense. Having the understanding that words and ideas are limiting is a happy conclusion that acts for me as a sheild. A sheild that gives me the liberty to try out many concepts and viewpoints without getting attached to any of them. Also if someone starts argueing or trying to disprove something Ive said using logic or whatever I find it humourous to back out of it altogether! Because I already know that any thing I say or think of the oposite is also true. Words are just games.
But it's important to know that there is something beyond the words that can't be reached at with the words (and that that something ((God, the truth)) is better than anything that words or ideas can grasp). Because otherwise you'll get all caught up in words. And not get enough excerise.
Do you need words to make love? Do you need them to play foosball?
It will determine where your political allegiance lies.
Most people align themselves with either conservatism, or liberalism.
How can you know where you stand on this divide?
Here is the test:
Question 1: Do you like things to be the same, or different?
From the site:
Artist's CommentsAn animator faces his own animation in deadly combat. The battlefield? The Flash interface itself.
A stick figure is created by an animator with the intent to torture. The stick figure drawn by the animator will be using everything he can find - the brush tool, the eraser tool - to get back at his tormentor. It's resourcefulness versus power. Who will win? You can find out yourself.
-- This took three long months.. i think it's worth it.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Im working out a system:
1 leads to 2 leads to 3 leads to 4 leads to 5
1. The Road to Excess Leads to
The Palace of Wisdom...
For we never know what is Enough
Until we know what is More than Enough
2. Renunciation: leaving behind all your worldly possesions and desires.
3. Truth is infinite and thus beyond the realm of words or ideas which by their essential nature are finite and limiting.
4. Let teachers and preists and philosophers dwell over matters of reality and illusion. I know this; if life is an illusion I too am an illusion and being thus the illusion is real to me. I live, I lust, I burn with life, I slay, and I am content.
Last night I went to a pow-wow starring this dude John Perkins who's an emminant writer on the subject of new-age shamanism. Much of the same story as Casteneda except still living and I guess more rational and mainstream. He's the one who formed this new age concept of Shamanism with it's systems and workshops etc. Pretty gnarly dude though. Good speaker and good message. He lived with Natives called the shwa in south america the orginal head shrinkers and took a lot of ayawaska( and from the sounds of things had a lot of sex). Anyways at the end he started talking about all these drugs and talked at length about the datura plant and how deadly poisonous and dangerous it is. After wards he made everyone sniff tobaco water up their noses! Funny watching this line up of middle age spiriitual seekers from new york city snorting tobacco water up their noses! And he's sitting there with this shite eating grin like some new-age john the baptist. I was impressed.
Later I ended up talking with a lot of people about my datura experience and I made note that out of the three of us who took it that night one of us is dead and the other one went completely straight edge. And I ended up sort of in the middle I guess.
Oh ya, one more thing; it's amazing how this date 2012 is flying around here. I hear about it almost every day. It's getting almost as much hype as the millenium bug. For those of you who don't know most new age circles consider us to be in the last days, the ending of the piscian age, the ending of the age of kali, the end of the hopi prophecies, the end of the mayan calender and the list goes on and on. And somehow all of these things are supposed to climax and shift in 2012. If not there's going to be a lot of sad new agers.
Today I wandered into the dining hall and sat down to eat by myself because I usually can't remember how to speak english until at least an hour after I wake up. So this lady comes up and sits down and starts asking me about Jesus and sure enough I end up talking about the guy for like 45 minutes beginning with I am the light, leading to Jesus having sex with Magdelaine, and finally climaxing with the fulfillment of the book of revelations; nuclear holocaust in the year 2012.
This is pretty hilarious--
Read it-- it's a woman (1940's or so) writing to tell her son about how her and Paw have just gotten one of "those new things you might have heard of in some houses called 'bathrooms'".
It's not just funny (though it is, especially the ending), but it's also a neat bit of local history.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
When I was a kid my folks took me on a road trip. As we approached the town of Hope, B.C., we saw, crawling up the shoulder of a steep hill, an ancient Model T Ford. A skinny, mustachioed man wearing a fedora was sitting up tall behind the wheel. Below him, a sign on the side of the old car read"Toronto or Bust." Toronto was 5500 miles away. As we flew by in our '47 Chev Fleetline I distinctly remember my dad turning to me, winking, and saying, "No hope." My mom laughed.
Dad turned out to be wrong. Two months later we read about the guy in the newspaper. He had driven from Vancouver, B.C., toToronto, Ontario in a 1914 Ford. And then--he drove back!
I've often thought about that fleeting image and the guy behind the wheel. Perhaps it was the seed that became my lifelong love of vintage cars. But it was the look of expectation that was on his face—-it was a look of hope. He was unconventional. He knew not where he would spend the night. He was traveling according to his own code. And he feared not.
We artists are like that guy. We stick our necks out with old fashioned technology and try to make a journey out of it. This journey takes us goodness knows where. But that's the point. Every day we crank up the old machine and head out once more along the shoulder of life. Many of us do not make it toToronto, New York, London, Paris or even Oz. Who is there among us who fully understands where we get our vision or to what end it goes? Who understands fully how what we do can be both agreeable and disagreeable? To folks like us, the main thing is that we are on the road. And what a road