2022 - A Tentative New Year

 

Alas, it's that dreadful day again... that is, my birthday. A day in which everyone basically celebrates the next day... which can never come soon enough. A day in which everybody gets inebriated, gets maudlin about the past and unrealistic about the future... while doing and saying regrettable things they will, in time, forget. This was the world I entered many moons ago, and mostly, it suited me just fine... except the weather; I still hate the cold.

I would love to toast the future. After 2 very creepy years I would be most happy to experience a New Day... a New Year. Wouldn't you? But it remains to be seen. There seems to a conflict of interest across the globe today. The Fear-Mongers*, Dope-Peddlers**, and Bad News Boys*** of this world seemed as pleased as punch when a 14th Covid variant reared its ugly little microscopic head. After all - and it doesn't take a Conspiracy Theorist to follow the money trail - the Pandemic has been very lucrative for them. Not so for you, me, and everybody else in the world... specifically those who have lost jobs, homes, businesses (and loved ones)... not to mention autonomy, mobility, sanity and a joy of life.

So, Bad News Boys, you can keep your New (abnormal) Normal. I need a New Year which is nothing like the previous 2. I want to see people's faces again when I talk to them; I want to see mine. I want to see different parts of the world before I die. I want to align myself with a creative culture, not a Disease Culture. In short, I want my life back. And that (dear readers) is my only Birthday wish (and New Years resolution). Oh, and this: I wish the same for you.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

__________________________

 * The Covid PR group.

** The Covid R&D Group.

*** The Media.

 ___________________________

 

Note on the image which proceeds the text (also inset left): this diagram was the result of laying a pentagonal Golden Triangle over the nested lunes of a Lune Spiral. Each horizontal line in the triangle represent points where the triangle and the lunes met. It looks like a harp and that is it's name: A Golden Harp, or, just "harp."

Of interest: as you can see from the diagram, no matter where you slice off the base of a Golden Triangle, a Golden Triangle remains. The rectangles you see, however, are not Golden. The ratio of the side to the base of these pentagonal rectangles is this: 1.54545454545454... which is in keeping with the plethora of other embedded 9s in the pentagon's (and pentagram's) numerical structure. (For instance, the pentagram's angles: 36, 72 and 108 degrees; each adds up to 9.)

Inset right is a lune, also referred to as a crescent, although, in this species, the grand circle and the inner (lesser) circle are touching but not overlapping.

Theoretically, there are almost as many lunes within a circle as there are circles, and therefore, an almost infinite variety of lunes, lune spirals and harps. I will eventually document a few of them later in the "Golden" series.

But, getting back to the harp, I've been thinking "musical instrument" from the day I first devised it. In  reality, an actual harp, is a musical instrument built on a very strong angle.  Although I don't think any are built upon the very acute golden angle, I wonder if it's possible and what it might sound like.

(Later note:  There's a possibility a Renaissance harp used the golden angle!

For your listening pleasure: virtuoso harpist, Hanna Rabe beautifully performs Eric Satie's eerie, melodic tone poems, Gnossienes 1, 2 &3.

 

 

 

 

Omnia Vincit Amor

Botticelli & the Spiral

Cestello Annunciation, 1489–90, Sandro Botticelli, Geometry: 2021, DS.

 

Above is a Christmas greeting card of sorts, composed of Sandro Botticelli's enigmatic Annunciation* and my own minor embellishment (meant to dazzle you, of course). And, while I'm not saying Botticelli actually used the pentagonal Golden Spiral to design his masterpiece, it does somewhat explain Mary's unusual posture.  She seems to be holding the geometrical apparatus up with both hands!

It doesn't explain the most important relationship in the image, however... that is, the odd relationship between Gabriel's and Mary's hands... but, perhaps an additional spiral might tell us something.

 

Put the two together and we have this:

 

Note the diagonal the two triangles have in common; when extended, it pierces Mary's hand. It's as if Gabriel was throwing her a curve-ball and she caught it!

Hmmm... but is that the end of the analysis....?

Alas, no...

Halloween 2021 - The White Fallow Deer

 

"They chase me through the forest green with hounds and hunting men,
and it is my own brother dear that rides with them.
Oh beg him now to stay his hand and hold his hounds at bay,
for I can break this curse if I can make midday.

Oh son , will you not stay inside and will you leash your hounds ?
For that white hind you hunt each night is your own blood.
I will ride the forest green and I will not stay my hand
and I will claim the finest hind that roams the land.

Three times they chased her down, three times she's run away.
The fourth time that they chased her down, the white hind they did slay.

Oh son of mine I beg of you , where's my daughter dear ?
I hear a young girls voice ring out sweet and clear.
My heart is on the table and my blood is on the floor.
My bones are roasting on the coals, I'll return no more."

- Lyrics from The White Hind... a ballad which is based upon the traditional French song, La Biche Blanche (a video appears after the jump) which tells the tale of a young girl who uncontrollably transforms into a white doe (or hind) - due to a curse - and is eventually slain (in deer form) by her brother. Versions of this story seem to have emerged world-wide over the centuries: For instance, here's one from North Carolina.   (Note: for a visual treat see The White Hind - on this page - by sculptor, Beth Cavner.)

"In Celtic cultures, the white stag traditionally symbolizes the world of the dead or the Otherworld. As a matter of fact, many other cultures also see the white stag in the same way.

In Arthurian mythology, pursuing the white stag was a symbol of our yearning for immortality or the next life."

- Via an article found here. 

 

" SIR – Something terrible will befall us if we shoot a white deer (report, March 9).

Take a lesson from the legend of Herne the Hunter, who was said to have saved Richard II from a white hart while the king was hunting in Windsor Forest. Mortally wounded, Herne had the deer's antlers bound to his head by a wizard to keep him alive. Herne was later found, hanging from an oak tree...

Clearly Herne is of much greater mythical antiquity than Richard II, but the king did bear a white hart as his heraldic badge. To kill a white deer is more foolhardy than brave."

- Excerpt from a letter via an article found here as was the source of the medieval painting above. 

 

"The tale comes from Kilmersdon, in the eastern Mendip Hills in Somerset. It concerns a lord who was weighed down with the woes of the world: there was a great pestilence among his people, and despite all his efforts, nothing the lord could do would stop the death and pain and sorrow from spreading across the land.

He was riding through the woods one evening with a heavy heart, when through the trees he saw a flash of pale fur, and a white hind bounded across the path in front of his horse. The lord followed the deer through the trees, picking his way through the ferns and brambles as quick as his horse would allow, but after a few minutes it had disappeared.

After that time, though, the lord was filled with inspiration and hope. His chance encounter with a white deer in the woods had refreshed his spirit, and allowed him to look at the situation in a new way. Following the lord’s directions, the people around him soon started to pull together, make plans, and work to improve the situation as best they could. Slowly at first, but then more and more under his lead, the community of that place found fresh energy to deal with the illness facing them, and to find a way through to the other side and renewal ahead."

- An excerpt from a folktale found here.

 

"A rare white deer was shot dead by police after it was spotted running through the streets of a town.

The RSPCA said it had advised police to 'leave the deer as it would make its own way back home' eventually.

But Merseyside Police said officers decided to euthanize the deer after growing concerns it might be dangerous for motorists and pedestrians.

A spokeswoman for the RSPCA said that while the deer could have been sedated 'this needs to be done with caution in a public area such as this one, as the deer could startle and run when hit by the dart'.

- From this BBC 2021 news article.

***

My Halloween post this year was inspired by an actual event that occurred in the UK recently (see article excerpt directly above). The sort of story - animal gets stranded in traffic and then is shot for the public good - that would quickly slip through the cracks and no one would be the wiser for it... but, I couldn't let that happen. Instead, I thought I'd honor the death of this particular white stag, although many of its kind continue to be slaughtered by hunters all over the world (despite its protection in some areas). Its head apparently makes a valuable trophy... although "trophy" for what I can't imagine. Surely it takes no real skill to kill an animal with a high-powered rifle. Worse still - and to highlight the depravity of this particular enterprise - one stag was stolen from a zoo in Germany and then beheaded (article link)!

Another disconcerting element of the BBC news article, however - along with the fact that all human parties involved were incompetent - was that there was no mention of the history of this particular animal. That a white deer is a relative anomaly never seemed to enter the equation, let alone the ancient folklore which surrounds it... which is odd; a great deal of white deer mythology originated in the UK!

Question: is actual progress being made when we lose touch with the roots of our narratives? Are we evolving when we subtract emotional content and mythological meaning from existential fact... or are we more profoundly floundering in the dark?

Fractal Unit 5

Fractal Unit Five - 2020, DS.

It's fundamental.

  ***

 (Note: The bulk of the content which originally appeared in this post (under the title "Forever Young") has been deleted after YouTube deleted one of the two featured videos. Sorry, but I wasn't up to repairing the post. If fact, I'm certain that there are many links, videos, etc, which  need my attention - especially on the sidebar -but time is in short supply these days.

I have a holiday post which will hopefully go up in a couple of days but, if, for some unforeseen reason it doesn't, I'll leave you with the video below. It's by a (relatively) new band - yes, darlings, I've finally discovered a band created in the 21st century I actually like: Sea Power. Their 2021 video (Two Fingers) below can also be found on their website and YouTube channel.  Dia, 10/26/21)

Reflections on Water

 

 

 “'I’m touched by your impatience over the Images. What happened was this: the first piece, ‘Reflets dans l’eau,’ doesn’t satisfy me at all so I decided to write another based on different ideas and in accordance with the most recent discoveries of harmonic chemistry…My apologies for this slight delay—which in any case won’t last beyond the end of the week. I’m starting to see things clearly again in my imagination and my thinking machine is gradually getting back into gear.'

Nothing in the composition of the piece has been written without consideration for phi and Debussy is unconcerned whether or not anyone, aside from himself and Durand, listens for the ratio unpacking, building itself, and then deconstructing itself over 94 measures and 375 beats. The new Reflets dans l’eau is an andantino molto that is almost as quiet as a droplet of water falling into a silvery lake. The piece divides asymmetrically into a beginning that stretches to the climax at the fifty-eighth measure and a smaller stretch that ends the piece. The climax, marked double fortissimo, is at the exact point of phi in the song, the mathematical equivalent of the golden ratio."

- Excerpt of an article found here regarding Debussy's use of the Golden Ratio (Phi) in Reflets dans l'eau,

The video is a re-mix of Reflets dans L'eau, (Reflections on Water) from Images I by the French composer, Claude DeBussy. It was created for electronic media by CJ Images and designed by CJ (Christopher John) for the game Flowscape. I chose this video (from numerous others) because some of its electrical sounds actually bring to (my) mind the golden spiral. To your right is the pentagonal golden spiral constructed by its 2 golden triangles.

"Among the mysteries of the irrationals, one number holds a special place: the so-called golden ratio. The golden ratio’s value is about 1.618 (but not exactly 1.618, since then it would be the ratio 1,618/1,000, and therefore not irrational) and it’s also referred to by the Greek letter φ, which is pronounced “fee” if you’re a mathematician and “fie” if you are in a fraternity. If you want an exact description, the golden ratio can be expressed as (1/2)(1+√5.)

People have been making a fuss over this number for centuries. In Euclid, the proportion goes by the more mundane name of “division into the extreme and mean.” He needed it to construct a regular pentagon, since the golden ratio is the proportion between the diagonal of such a pentagon and its side. A golden rectangle is one whose length is φ times its width; it has the agreeable quality that if you cut it crosswise so that one of the two pieces is a square, the other one is a smaller golden rectangle."

- Via the Slate article: The Most Irrational Number. Inset left is a beautiful photograph (found online) of the chambered nautilus, featuring a spiral similar to the golden spiral.

 ***

Well, it took me long enough to write this post (!), but, then, I was somewhat intimidated by it. In terms of this blog, it's an important one; revealing just exactly where I've been at (creatively) for the past 2 years. Never mind that the past 2 years have been for myself and, I imagine, most people, a regular mind-f*ck. (After all, who amongst us did not in some fashion get sick?) However, the show must go on. And, for an artist, to create is to live... and to live is to create. Nothing changes this equation.

My creative journey began during 2019 and was referred to in this April interlude, upon the creation of the Rose Pentacle graphic. Later that year I began sculpting a 3-dimensional version of that image in clay for a ceramic casting (which is still in progress). I also began to envision a series of paintings which might bring the Night Garden to life while, at the same time developing a mythology relative to both the garden, the Rose Pentacle and the inherent mysteries I sensed were involved.  It's a big project.

But, as the Pandemic fell into place, I lost my place in the journey. The dream went on hold, and I turned, instead, to the one component of the Rose Pentacle that could be investigated in two dimensions on a computer monitor: the pentagram, its history, but, most importantly, its geometry... from which a series of diagrams eventually emerged (a few of which appear in this post.)*

(More after the jump...)

Because the Night - A Tribute to One Hell of a Girl Goddess

 

"Take me now baby here as I am
Hold me close, try and understand
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe
Love is a banquet on which we feed
 
Come on now try and understand
The way I feel when I'm in your hands
Take my hand come undercover
They can't hurt you now,
Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
 
Have I doubt when I'm alone
Love is a ring, the telephone
Love is an angel disguised as lust
Here in our bed until the morning comes
Come on now try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand as the sun descends
They can't touch you now,
Can't touch you now, can't touch you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
 
With love we sleep
With doubt the vicious circle
Turns and burns
Without you I cannot live
Forgive, the yearning burning
I believe it's time, too real to feel
So touch me now, touch me now, touch me now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
 
Because tonight there are two lovers
If we believe in the night we trust
Because tonight there are two lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us"

- The lyrics to Because the Night by Bruce Springsteen and Patti Smith, 1978. Translatable lyrics.

***

Because the Night was Patti Smith's first and last (commercially) Big Hit, but, listening to it today, it seems less like a mere pop tune and more like an ectoplasmic incantation worthy of the Eleusinian Mysteries. And, Patti Smith, like one of the key figures in those Mysteries - Persephone, the girl Goddess, beloved by her mother, betrothed to the King of the Dead - guides us through the Underworld to the Temple of Love; the gateway of immortality. That an almost pagan chant would be popularly embraced - and there have been a number of covers throughout the years as well - is not all that unusual. Love is our primary motivation; Love is our night-blooming flower (Sub Rosa) and that its power unfolds in darkness is a very primal conception. Eros, the God of Love, was born of darkness. We are all born of darkness: the womb, the birth tomb (with its secret passageway outwards).

Patti Smith has always struck me as a kindred spirit. She and I were both born during the last days of December, for one, and, regardless of whether you're astrologically literate or not, I find that people who are born at the turning of the year share specific traits... specifically, we're very often outsiders, and outside of time as well; as if being born on the cusp of a year endowed us with the ability to slip through time's cracks. And we have a strange relationship with death. Once again, we seem to be psychically placed at a portal. Psychologically, on the other hand, we're like Peter Pan; we can't really "grow up." We grow inwards.

(Inset right) is a photograph of Patti by Robert Mapplethorpe which appeared on her 1988 album, Dream of Life.

In any case, I'm guessing that for many an outsider artist, Smith's unexpected emergence into the rock world of the late 1970s was a many-splendored thing. She was the wild child of her time... and she never resorted to playing the gender card. It wasn't as if she couldn't, but, like an androgynous little kid - and we all start out that way - it quite possibly never occurred to her...

Heart Full of Soul

 

 

 

 

Moving backwards again... to the latter half of the 60s. I seem to be mysteriously drawn to that decade these days. There was so much great music; a Big Bang of musical styles and interpretations which immediately branched out into a multitude of directions until the atmosphere was so saturated with new sounds, one got the impression something majorly transformative was about to occur across the field of human endeavor.

That delusion.

 

The music featured in this post emerged in the middle of the decade in the States, having first traveled from the UK; a period known as the British Invasion.

Directly above: The Yardbirds (featuring legendary Jeff Beck).

I've just learned Count Five (above) were actually from California... but they were obviously influenced by the Brits. Incidentally, this song has been covered by numerous bands. Tom Petty's harp in this live Heartbreaker's cover is excellent, but for a spot-on portrayal of psychosis, I recommend The Cramps.

 

More below the jump.

Running Forward

  

 

 “Is there anyone left with any integrity? Anyone at all? I ask myself that on an almost daily basis,” she says, despairingly." 

-  Shirley Manson from a Spin review of Garbage's 7th (2021) release: No Gods No Masters. (Note: Louis Auguste Blanqui, a 17th century socialist and anarchist, coined the phrase “ni dieu ni maître”—neither god nor master—in reference to the "world order" he envisioned. After that, it became a slogan used by different groups and individuals throughout history. See: the Wiki entry. )

Another quote from Manson:

"If they ever kill me for anything that I ever say, just know I lived in truth."

 

   ***

The video above - Garbage's No Horses - borrows from Margaret Atwood's harrowing modern classic: The Handmaid's Tale... a novel I deliberately avoided reading at the time because it represented a dark place I'd already visited in my worse nightmares and had no compulsion to revisit. Moreover, it was loosely based on historical truth... and not a pleasant one!

Basically, in the story, a group of patriarchal, Old Testament religious fanatics take over a country (in this case, America), stripping women of many human rights - reading, writing, owning property, handling money (sound familiar?) - and forcing those few (the Handmaids) who remained fertile - apparently some form environmental pollution caused mass sterility - to bear children for the State.

That story.

Another story:

"At dawn on Friday, 13 October 1307 - a date sometimes incorrectly linked with the origin of the Friday the 13th superstition - King Philip IV ordered de Molay and scores of other French Templars to be simultaneously arrested. The arrest warrant started with the words: Dieu n'est pas content, nous avons des ennemis de la foi dans le Royaume ("God is not pleased. We have enemies of the faith in the kingdom") Claims were made that during Templar admissions ceremonies, recruits were forced to spit on the Cross, deny Christ, and engage in indecent kissing; brethren were also accused of worshiping idols, and the order was said to have encouraged in homosexual practices. These allegations, though, were highly politicized without any real evidence...

... As for the leaders of the order, the elderly Grand Master Jacques de Molay, who had confessed under torture, retracted his confession. Geoffroi de Charney, Preceptor of Normandy, also retracted his confession and insisted on his innocence. Both men were declared guilty of being relapsed heretics, and they were sentenced to burn alive at the stake in Paris on 18 March 1314. De Molay reportedly remained defiant to the end, asking to be tied in such a way that he could face the Notre Dame Cathedral and hold his hands together in prayer. According to legend, he called out from the flames that both Pope Clement and King Philip would soon meet him before God. His actual words were recorded on the parchment as follows:

"Dieu sait qui a tort et a péché. Il va bientot arriver malheur à ceux qui nous ont condamnés à mort"

(God knows who is wrong and has sinned. Soon a calamity will occur to those who have condemned us to death). 

Pope Clement died only a month later, and King Philip died in a hunting accident before the end of the year."

- Via the Wiki entry for the Knights Templar.

 

Happy Friday the 13th!

Running Backwards

 

 

A trip through the past with no discernible destination. More below the jump.

Note: the video which originally appeared directly above ("Doo Ron Ron" by the Crystals) was disappeared by YouTube. I've replaced it.

Note 2: The replacement video - Martha & the Vandella's "Dancin' in the Streets" - has met the same (unfortunate) fate. I give up.

The Dope Show

 

 

 

"The drugs they say
To make us feel so hollow
We love in vain
Narcissistic and so shallow
The cops and queers
To swim you have to swallow
Hate today
No love for tomorrow

We're all stars now in the dope show
We're all stars now in the dope show

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
That want to get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low
And blow your mind 

We're all stars now in the dope show
We're all stars now in the dope show

They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another
They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another

The drugs they say
Are made in California
We love your face
We'd really like to sell you
The cops and queers
Make good-looking models
I hate today
Who will I wake up with tomorrow?

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
That want to get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low
And blow your mind

They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another
They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
That want to get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low
And blow your mind
Go blow your mind

We're all stars now in the dope show
We're all stars now in the dope show"

- The Dope Show lyrics © Songs Of Golgotha, Dinger And Ollie Music, Blood Heavy Music
 

***

What's this? Am I back?

Well, tentatively. It goes like this...

Calling Dr. Feelgood

 

 

 

 

Dr. Feelgood (Love is Serious Business)

" I don't want nobody
Always sitting around me and my man
I don't want nobody
Always sitting right there
Looking at me and that man
Be it my mother, my brother or my sister
Would you believe, I'll get up, put on some clothes
Go out and help them find somebody for themselves if I can
Yes I will

Now I don't mind company
Because company's alright with me
Every once in a while
Yes it is
I tell you I don't mind company
Because company's alright with me
Every once in a while
But oh, when me and that man get to loving
I tell you girls
I dig you but I just don't have time
To sit and chit and sit and chit-chat and smile

Don't send me no doctor
Filling me up with all of those pills
I got me a man named Doctor Feelgood
And oh, yeah, that man takes me off all o' my pains and my ills
His name is
Doctor Feelgood in the morning
And taking care of business
Is really this man's game
And after one visit to Doctor Feelgood
You'll understand why Feelgood is his name
Oh, yeah, oh good God of mine
And the man sure makes me feel real... good"
 

-  Aretha Franklin / Ted White (1967)

And counting...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still Counting...

 

 

"Ballad of a Thin Man"

"You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked and you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard but you don't understand
Just what you will say when you get home
Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

You raise up your head and you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says, "It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?" and somebody else says, "Well, what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?"
But something is happening and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible!" as he hands you a bone
And something is happening here but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

You have many contacts among the lumberjacks
To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

Ah, you've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well-read, it's well-known
But something is happening here and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels
He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice, he asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan"
And you know something is happening but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

Now, you see this one-eyed midget shouting the word "Now"
And you say, "For what reason?" and he says, "How"
And you say, "What does this mean?" and he screams back, "You're a cow!
Give me some milk or else go home"
And you know something's happening but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

Well, you walk into the room like a camel, and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law against you comin' around
You should be made to wear earphones
'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?"

 

- Bob Dylan, released in 1965 on his sixth album, Highway 61 Revisited.

 

 

Counting Down to a New Day