And, what does this painting have in common with the unfortunate news of this sad day? See my short PMB post here.
(Note: I've just posted a video on the sidebar you might find unusual. Actually, it's an Egyptian Zār band*: primarily female musicians who utilize ancient ritualistic music to heal and purify their listeners...
... because it's never too soon to begin the healing process.)
_________
* "The purpose of the Zar ceremony is to cure mental illness through contact with the possessing spirits which cause maladies. Though there are several methods for dealing with psychological disturbance, the Zar is the last resort which is supposed to have powerful therapeutic effect for several kinds of ailments," writes John Kennedy in Nubian Ceremonial Life. It should be noted that this ceremony is not widely practiced in Egypt. The Zar ceremony is most prominent in southern Egypt and is practiced further south into the Sudan, though in fact it may be performed anywhere in Egypt. This is a region that was least exposed to the many invaders from Greece, Rome and the Middle East, and the ceremony can be considered as a holdover from older African religions when older women were frequently priestesses.
Regardless of the fact that Zar is a trance religious ceremony that uses drumming and dancing to cure an illness thought to be caused by a demon, it is technically prohibited by Islam as a pagan practice. However it continues to be an essential part of the Egyptian culture. It provides a unique form of relief to women in strict patriarchal societies.
The phenomenon of Zar can be best described as the "healing cult". It involves hair tossing and swaying and it also acts as a means of sharing information among women of these cultures."
The day this post was created, a less controversial (but more important) event had recently occurred: the world lost a great treasure: songbird, poet and Lover, Leonard Cohen.
"One of the points I'm making in the book is that, whoever you've been and wherever you've been, it never leaves you," he said. "I always picture it as a car. All your selves are in it. And a new self can get in, but the old selves can't ever get out. The important thing is, who's got their hands on the wheel at any given moment."
- Bruce Springsteen, discussing his new autobiography in an article found here.
***
I just found the above quote yesterday, and it so resonated with me, that I thought I'd share it here. Bruce Springsteen, an American treasure, has an autobiography being released this month. I was really surprised to learn (from the article linked) that he's had a life-long battle with chronic depression. I'm not going into my own personal history, but, let's just say that I've never really trusted anybody who claims they never get depressed.
If you've never been blue then you've never been human.
Then again, there's the argument that chronic depression is really an expression of suppressed, thwarted rage. Could be.
In any case, while I'm not back to normal posting as of yet, I just wanted put in a few words... and keep my hands on the wheel.
"Whenever a man hears it he is young, and Nature is in her spring; wherever he hears it, it is a new world and a free country, and the gates of Heaven are not shut against him."
Out here in the west, at least, where I currently reside, there are no wood thrushes... and I miss them. In late spring and early summer, they'd begin singing around twilight in the forest behind my childhood home, and the sound was both haunting and inviting... as in Frost's poem (above).
The thrush's song is also a good antidote for "writer's block". And, I'm afraid, writer's block is a symptom of whatever virus or bug I've been battling for the past few weeks.
And, so, despite having several posts in various stages of completion, I'm taking a break from blogging for a short while. Not really long. Just long enough to go outdoors and remind myself that a.) it's spring, and, b.) I actually live on a planet.
Then again, if you must know, a small, nesting sparrow outside my kitchen window advised me. While a sparrow's song can't hold a candle to the thrush's - it's too repetitious...(although no worse than pop music!) - it still knows how to get its point across. And the sparrow's point was: "Get away from that computer keyboard... now!"
Of course, there are those who would debate whether or not birdsong is even musical... scientists mostly. For instance, you'll note in the quote below that, although scientists have detected certain harmonics in the hermit thrush's song which match human patterns, they are still not convinced that birds "have music"... which is quite the opposite of my own views (see my earlier Language of the Birds post), but, then, no one ever accused scientists of having imaginations! ;-)
_______________________________________________
"Once described as the finest sound in nature, the song of the North American hermit thrush has long captivated the human ear. For centuries, birdwatchers have compared it to human music – and it turns out they were on to something. The bird’s song is beautifully described by the same maths that underlies human harmonies.
... The study shows a natural bias in the thrush towards certain harmonies, similar to those found in humans and some other birds, says Martin Braun of the Swedish organisation Neuroscience of Music in Karlstad, who says the study is an important contribution to the field.
Others remain cautious. Dale Purves of Duke University in North Carolina points out that it concerns just one species, and one component of music – pitch. “What does it all mean? That’s unclear,” he says. The study may explain why the hermit thrush song sounds melodious to our ear, but the debate over whether or not animals have music, and whether theirs is similar to ours, remains very much open."
Well, I'll let you be the judge, but, yes, it sounds like music to me! But, then again, scientists make a living by having such "debates".
On the other hand, I defy them to listen to the Russian canary (below), without becoming at least a tad persuaded. While it's true that the little birds are trained, the point is... well, many human musicians are trained. The important thing is that the birds have the aptitude... and this tiny creature is positively orchestral!
I actually hesitated before posting the above video... I detest the practice of caging birds. But, this amazing bird was actually performing in front of a small crowd - dig on that, if you will - so I caved. Besides which, now that I think of it, isn't chaining oneself to a computer for hours on end kind of like being trapped in a cage?
And, on that note, um... see ya later! :-)
* Interestingly, also from the Wiki entry: "The male (wood thrush) is able to sing two notes at once, which gives its song an ethereal, flute-like quality."
But, naturally, if one scrolls down in the article, we find the creature, like so many animals, is becoming endangered:
"The wood thrush has become a symbol of the decline of Neotropical songbirds of eastern North America, having declined by approximately 50% since 1966. Along with many other species, this thrush faces threats both to its North American breeding grounds and Central American wintering grounds. Forest fragmentation in North American forests has resulted in both increased nest predation and increased cowbird parasitism, significantly reducing their reproductive success."
This reminds me too much of a similar sad story... that of the starlings in my article about the starling's amazing murmurations.
** For another link to a similar article, and more about the wood thrush, see this past post.
"But, then, I had my answer. As I had maintained to myself from the beginning, love is love. Or, if you prefer, all love is Love. Add to this the Language of the Birds - a mystical language, wherein love is a fundamental force as well as an emotion - and we are presented with a new landscape, a new equation. And, in this alchemical Land of Love, all experiences are authentic, and all activities of the psyche are allowed." - Quoting myself from text which previously appeared here (under the title: The Language of Birds and the Alchemy of Love: A Music Box).
***
Well, it's official: this post has now formally been divorced from its original purpose. But, don't fret, because the series it was meant to introduce has survived and, in fact, has been expanded (!).
You'll note I've updated the music box panel images here. This to reflect the virtual object's present state, which will be revealed shortly in my next post. Also, I'm going to repurpose this post by adding a some music box miscellanea... specifically a video which explores a unique phenomenon created by music box tunes punched into a paper tape as opposed to the steel pins, combs and discs used in vintage music boxes...
Rolling Stone February cover - photo credit: Anton Corbijn/Getty Images Article: David Bowie's Final Years (click to enlarge) For more recent Rolling Stone articles about DB click here.
At your newsstand: this recent TIME publication. (Click to enlarge.)
Along with so many people, I've been grappling with the death of David Bowie - America's resident alien - since Monday of last week. I think it's amazing just how many of us, all over the world, were not merely saddened or surprised by his death, but truly devastated. That is, we took it personally.
For the past few days I've been struggling to put into words the various ideas that have begun running through my head regarding this transformative event in our collective consciousness, but "words" seem increasingly inadequate. If a miracle occurs and I can finally gather my thoughts into something comprehensible, I'll post again. But, don't hold your breath(s). Meanwhile, I found this charming little video clip from Charlie Rose's 1998 interview with David, that I'll post here... and I'll be replacing the Bowie tunes on the sidebar with some others. At this moment, it's the best I could do.
Bliss to David, and peace to you all.
___________________________
"A pair of wings, a different respiratory system, which enabled us to travel through space, would in no way help us, for if we visited Mars or Venus while keeping the same senses, they would clothe everything we could see in the same aspect as the things of the Earth. The only true voyage, the only bath in the Fountain of Youth, would be not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes, to see the universe through the eyes of another, of a hundred others, to see the hundred universes that each of them sees, that each of them is; and this we do, with great artists; with artists like these we do really fly from star to star."
"Barnbrook loved working with David Bowie, he was simply one of the most inspirational, kind people we have met. So in the spirit of openness and in remembrance of David we are releasing the artwork elements of his last album ★ (Blackstar) to download here free under a Creative Commons non-commercial share alike licence. That means you can make t-shirts for yourself, use them for tattoos, put them up in your house to remember David by and adapt them too, but we would ask that you do not in any way create or sell commercial products with them or based on them. Any questions or commercial licence usage please contact us." (The Blackstar image above is my own modification of the download. Click to enlarge, and feel free to grab it for your personal, non-commercial use.)
***
For those interested, Reality Sandwich has DB's natal astrology chart online. Interestingly, he, like myself, was born with his Capricorn sun in the 12th house. Unlike myself, he had a lot of fire and air in his chart, which is reflected by his incredible charisma and success as a performer.
***
(May 4, 2016) This just in: Apparently a fan discovered that the Black Star gatefold inside the interior of the DB's (vinyl) Blackstar album is not solid black after all. When held in the sunlight, a starry view of the night sky appears. I wonder if it's a real photo, and what area of the galaxy it is. Maybe he was trying to tell us something... ;-)
Capricorn Rising - digital - 2017, 2014, DS
The sketch which originally appeared here has been replaced with the finished version.
(click to enlarge)
"Not a marine mammal, the sea goat, better described as a goat fish, is a mythical creature with the head and upper body of a goat, and the lower body and tail of a fish. The sea goat symbol goes back over 4000 years, when it represented the Sumerian primordial god of waters, Enki. According to legend (similar to the Garden of Eden story of the Bible) at one time "there was not fear, no terror", and men lived in harmony. When mankind was thrust out of this paradise, at a time of crisis, Enki came out of the sea, and gave humanity the skills of civilization; teaching about cultivation, irrigation, (he was the god of sweet spring water as well.) granaries, and medicine. Never a trickster god, he represented balance and responsibility."
- via Astra Chrysalis concerning the astrological symbol of Capricorn
"Capricorn is a sign that represents an Herculean struggle between the forces of light and darkness - on the road to initiation, represented by Mars' exaltation here. Indeed, Mars and the Moon are said to create a 'fearful conflict' at the third initiation, the truly archetypal initiation of Capricorn, the Transfiguration, the ultimate triumph of the mental body over denser matter. Hence the Capricornian initiate is able to move between heaven and hell and 'raise the dead to life', bringing universal brotherhood into expression upon the physical plane."
"The amphibious Sea-Goat dwells at the shoreline ‘twixt matter and spirit, guarding the Gate of the Return of Souls for mankind’s sojourn on Earth.
In ancient Orphic and Platonic doctrine, the Sea-Goat was the Gate of the Gods, wherein the souls of men, when released from corporeality, ascended to heaven through its stars.
Porphyry, in “In the Caves of the Nymphs” (300 BC) stated that souls that descend from the heavens to become incarnate on Earth pass through the celestial gate of Cancer (i.e. the original figure of the Crab, which runs from about 26º Cancer to 21º Leo in tropical degrees), and upon completion of their life cycle they return to the heavens through the gate of Capricornus (now almost completely spanning tropical Aquarius, from about 29º Capricorn to 29º Aquarius)."
I am on a foreign shore. I'm not sure where exactly, but, it's most likely a northern region; possibly the coast of somewhere like Norway. I am alone, as I so frequently am, but from this I have always derived a kind of satisfaction, an uninterrupted, silent engagement with the world surrounding me. Today, it's just me and the sand beneath my feet, and the grey-green ocean waves lapping against the shore. The skies are a murky grey, with that peculiar blue cast to the light that is only evident before a winter storm. The cliffs, both to the side and in front of me are high, but so shrouded in fog that the horizon is a featureless silhouette spread flat in either direction. Which is where I found the first one.
“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.”
"To be shaken out of the ruts of ordinary perception, to be shown for a few timeless hours the outer and the inner world, not as they appear to an animal obsessed with survival or to a human being obsessed with words and notions, but as they are apprehended, directly and unconditionally, by Mind at Large - this is an experience of inestimable value... The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less cocksure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable Mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend."
"The various “other worlds,” with which human beings erratically make contact are so many elements in the totality of the awareness belonging to Mind at Large. Most people, most of the time, know only what comes through the reducing valve and is consecrated as genuinely real by the local language. Certain persons, however, seem to be born with a kind of by-pass that circumvents the reducing valve. In others temporary by-passes may be acquired either spontaneously, or as the result of deliberate “spiritual exercises,” or through hypnosis, or by means of drugs. Through these permanent or temporary by-passes there flows, not indeed the perception “of everything that is happening everywhere in the universe” (for the by-pass does not abolish the reducing valve, which still excludes the total content of Mind at Large), but something more than, and above all something different from, the carefully selected utilitarian material which our narrowed, individual minds regard as a complete, or at least sufficient, picture of reality.”
I had a semi-eureka moment the other night. I was reading the posthumously published book of a friend (mentioned in previously posts), Mac Tonnies - the first volume of an edited transcription of his Posthuman Blues blog - when I came across a 2003 discussion of anomalous arial phenomena (UFOs), and his speculative proposition (inspired by Rudy Rucker'sSpaceland) suggesting they may be cross-sections of 4-dimensional objects moving through 3-dimensional space. He compares this hypothetical 4-D world with the idea of a vast "multiverse", but its phenomena would only be visible to we 3-D "Flatlanders" at points of intersection... sort of a complex version of the "tip of the iceberg" appearing on the surface of the ocean - it's what we can't see that defines it in totality.
He goes on to say that, it stands to reason, we might theoretically coexist with the generators of these "aerial phenomena" - assuming some variety of intelligence is involved. As it happened, I had recently posted a quotation from Michio Kaku, a String-Theory physicist, on my memorial blog, Post-Mac Blues, which intimated a similar idea in the form of possible parallel worlds, in which we theoretically might co-exist with a range of probable realities populated with a whole host of "others", up to and including loved ones who have died, and other versions of ourselves, as well. And, keep in mind, String Theory proposes as many as eleven dimensions to play with! Seemingly, transdimensional reality comes off like science fiction, but, in a sense, we experience a form of it on a continual basis; co-existing with the seemingly dimension-less phenomena of our own unconscious minds. Dreams, for instance, fall into this arena, They, too, may intimate experiences we are forced to translate using the limited language of three dimensions, with our equally as limited "official" set of senses. The experience of levitating or flying, for example, which, in my own dreams, initially entails allowing oneself to fall - albeit at an oblique angle - into space, might be describing a more complex manifestation on another plane, or, for that matter, the vestiges of a race memory wholly outside of the conventional range of spacetime... you might say, an inner-dimensional** reality. Some dreams, then, may represent those same "tips of the iceberg", with their true breadth extending in a whole range of enfolded directions. Ghosts, and other anomalous visual phenomena might also find their origin in a transdimensional reality whereas, once again, our experience is partially obscured by the nuts and bolts of our 3-dimensional range. We see what (to some of us) is apparently visible... but only to a certain degree... and possibly only at certain angles in what one can reluctantly refer to as a moment in spacetime. True perception is thereby incremental... like tuning in a station on a radio; our window for experiencing certain phenomena is, apparently, extremely small.
Of course, in the light of the brick wall effect of corporeal reality, all of this seems fairly moot. Which is probably what I meant when I created "Doors of Perception". Look, but don't see. On the other hand, I sense an underlying mystery about this image... as if its facade was created by an extra-terrestrial race. At the same time, during the process of its creation, a key phrase emerged in my mind -"false doors" - possibly referring to those which decorated Egyptian tombs. The "Ka" doors (an example is pictured above, left) were more than embellishments, however, they were the means by which the dead might re-enter the earthly plane and communicate with the living. The enigmatic Nabatean race included similar doors, and windows - referred to as "god blocks" - on the surface of their tombs at Petra (above, right). When you think about it, these solid, physically impenetrable "openings" are very strange. Obviously, their dead could walk through walls - and our enterprising ancients designated exactly where these portals should exist. For Aldous Huxley, (July 26,1894 – November 22,1963), the "doors of perception" were thrown open via certain altered states of consciousness, either natural and spontaneous, or artificially "manufactured". His 1954 extended essay, The Doors of Perception was a chronicle of his experience with mescaline. He, in turn, borrowed that title from the inspired ravings of William Blake, a visionary artist and poet who was born in the previous century (November 28, 1757 – August 12, 1827). Huxley's doors were the doors of inner-dimensions, the "Mind at Large", but one suspects the doors might swing both ways, from microcosmic to macrocosmic, from personal to transpersonal, from universal to multiversal. It was Huxley's doors, in turn, which inspired the name of the 1960's rock band, The Doors. They, according to legend, were no strangers to psychedelic enhancement. As a teenager, it was the latter Doors who introduced me to both Blake and Huxley. Pop culture does have it's beneficial side-effects. Which, I suppose, is my excuse for indulging myself with the Doors video at the bottom of the post. "Spanish Caravan" does relate in a weird way though... in that. it initially seems like no more than a beguiling, substance-drenched ditty - or an ode to a favorite vacation spot - set to the Doors' standard Disneyland-in-Hell - or, better even, Carnival of Souls - orchestral sound. But, to the discerning traveller, "Spain" and "Andalusia" are not corporeal destinations. Translated by the sultry voice of Jim Morrison, (December 8, 1943 – July 3, 1971) - the Sidewinder Shaman, and self-proclaimed Lizard King - the lyrics transform into an alchemical cryptogram, intimating a subliminal dimension which houses the proverbial philosopher's stone - the mystical El Dorado of the spiritual realm - which must be experienced "again and again". In the grainy "Live in Europe" clip below, this song takes no prisoners. What is the "Spanish Caravan"? A "Magic Bus" ? The mother of all mother-ships? Death? Who cares. Morrison assured us that it could "take" him. We assumed we were welcome to come along for the ride... if we dared.
* The lyrics to Spanish Caravan were actually penned by Doors guitarist, Robby Krieger.
** "Interdimensional" is a word in use, coined by Jacques Vallee, which he used to describe UFO phenomena, but is not exactly what I'm referring to here. On the other hand, these cosmic portals might be the macrocosmic expression of what I'm attempting to describe. Note: For those interested in a mash-up of ideas referred to in this post plus, you might try familiarizing yourself with the writings of Clifford Pickover, his website or blog. (Another note: For those of you familiar with this blog, you actually have seen a portion of my image "Doors of Perception" in a past post.)
Laurie Anderson - Photo Credit: Ivan Prokop - found here
I always admired Laurie Anderson for her performance art, but I had no idea she was also a hands-on visual artist. If you're currently in the New York City area, however, you have until June 23 to catch her most recent exhibit - Boat - at Vito Schnabel gallery, 126 Leroy St. Anderson is not only one of the most innovative artists to arrive on the scene in the past 3 decades, but also the most astoundingly prolific. But, NASA artist-in-residence? Too cool! Her stint at NASA was not a lasting one - apparently for lack of funding - but she describes this experience, and her life as an artist in general in the video clip below - a commencement address she gave this year at the School of Visual Arts' (SVA) graduation ceremony, held at New York City's Radio City Musical Hall, May 10, 2012. The video is lengthy but well worth the listen. She is a remarkably inspiring woman who not only describes her own quirky, fearless approach to art, but an artist's approach to living and designing a guilt-free, uninhibited, contemplative artist's life. She proposes a few interesting concepts as well... for example, artist-in-residence positions opening up across the board: in congress, the White House, and the Department of Defense!
"There are legends of him (Khidr) in which, like Osiris, he is dismembered and reborn; and prophecies connecting him, like the Green Man, with the end of time. His name means the Green One or Verdant One, he is the voice of inspiration to the aspirant and committed artist. He can come as a white light or the gleam on a blade of grass, but more often as an inner mood. The sign of his presence is the ability to work or experience with tireless enthusiasm beyond one's normal capacities. In this there may be a link across cultures, …one reason for the enthusiasm of the medieval sculptors for the Green Man may be that he was the source of every inspiration."
So my wish for all us is, may this season inspire wonder and magic in our psyches despite the onslaught of winter.
Let's face it, 2011 was a rather brutal year... so, let's have some fun! And, I can think of no more festive song than this blast from the past, "Ring Out, Solstice Bells", from an old Jethro Tull album (and a personal seasonal favorite in the days of vinyl), "Songs from the Wood". For a further exploration of the solstice, see: Hail Winter Solstice Deus Sol Invictus.
A Green Man found at Gloucester Cathedral
For hundreds of images of Green Men - as architectural details - found around the world, try these pages.
I think the thing I sometimes forget most about "virtual reality" is that it is not reality; it is not even a reflection of reality. It is, at the most, a counterfeit reality, in that it presents us with a view of life, but, intrinsically, it has no life. There is no true life force running through the blips and bytes of the world wide web. Your monitor may light up like a candy store but if you reach your hand in there's nothing there. It may as well be an hallucination. You can't even be sure that those false images that fly before your eyes are the same false images others might be seeing; perception, after all, is a relative, subjective collection of sensations. And, computer monitors are a dime a dozen.
Of course, the same may be said of the "official" reality in which you exist... you can see things and touch things, but beyond that, every now and then it might occur to you that you are, for the most part, living in your head. Meanwhile, communication with other entities is almost an unspoken, subliminal "gentlemen's agreement": let's pretend that what we see has meaning... let's pretend that what we see exists. We're, of course, not seeing the exact same thing, but we can assume our differing viewpoints are similar enough, and we can imagine we're sensing and experiencing similar things. There are, after all, other life forces and senses that come into play within a true life experience.
In virtual reality this is not the case. Along with the falseness of the reality presented, everything false follows in its wake... a false sense of identity, a false sense of camaraderie, a false sense of communication... while, in ones actual reality - "meatspace", that is - very little is happening. Synapses may click and codes may coalesce, but the vitality, passion, desire and communion - that is, the immeasurable phenomena, or noumena, which truly make us human - is never engaged and will never come across. One might be fooled into thinking otherwise, but this is ultimately a spurious experience. Nothing has happened. One has not grown. Nothing has essentially changed. One may as well sit down and do a crossword puzzle.
Virtual reality then, is nothing more than a shallow mental exercise... a false construct, a false life, a video game. What you see is not what you actually get.
Every now and then, however, a light peeks around the perimeter and one has a moment of clarity and disillusionment; and this moment, I guess, is mine. It will mean nothing to you. Your day will not change, nor will mine. You will not know me any better... I will not know you at all. Several minutes from now, I may change my mind. But it will not matter, and "matter" will not come into play.
And so the game(s) continues...
***
And that, comrades, was a spontaneous essay I posted yesterday on PMB... it was also taken down less than 24 hours after. But, why(?), you ask... (or don't ask, as the case may be).
It's like this, and hear me out. "Spontaneousness" and the internet - specifically in the form of social networking (and while blogging might fit into this category, emails would not) - make disastrous bedfellows, specifically for the creative person. All varieties of monsters may be spawned and the minute they've been spawned on the web, they often cannot be retracted. Not only that, but, let's say you innocently leave a comment on a blog somewhere - worse still, you make a habit of using your real name - well, presto (!), not only are your words carved in cyber-stone on many programs and blogs, but search engines (such as Google) ensure that they can be read world-wide for eternity. I'm not even going to address all the cyber-piranha that might be interested in such innocuous information - in a cumulative sense - for the purposes of profiling.
The real problem arises, however, and this is why this particular post was moved here, is that many artists, writers, musicians, etc. who use a digital medium for their work - and specifically the same computer to both create and access the internet, are not merely leaving their work exposed to predators, but are possibly endangering their psyches as well.
The fact of the matter is, a creative state is an "altered state". The "you" that is operating in an elevated, muse-orientated mist is not the you who should be social networking 10 minutes later. You are still too vulnerable at this time. The spontaneity that you've brought to your work is not going to translate on the WWW. It will not be well-recieved. Essentially, It will not be "received" at all because your audience, those whom you are attempting to communicate with, are simply not operating on the same level as you are. You may as well be "speaking in tongues". Freshly out of creative work, you're virtually naked and in every sense as vulnerable... In other words you have no business being online. Wait for several hours - until your creative high has dissipated - before you go online and visit your favorite haunts. But, even then, keep this in mind:
The internet's real purpose is to distribute information, sell products, and to entertain. All social interaction is generally of the most superficial kind. Do not go online anticipating high communion... the WWW is certainly not the place to bare your soul, and neither is it a place to safely speak your mind.
Be forewarned. In many ways, the web is outright bullshit, and in time it will only get worse.
UPDATE: 2 other articles that address this subject and might be of interest: click here and here.
For your listening pleasure:
(My special thanks to Greg at The Daily Grail for this inspired video link...)
***
Eight Years in the Future - July 19, 2019
Greetings to whoever is presently reading this post. Well, someone has... and quite recently, too. So, I decided to reread it myself. (Thanks, mysterious human, for bringing this to my attention.)
I think the first and original section of the post - in yellow - is probably where I should have left off. The second part - the later addition in white - sounds a tad peculiar to me now. I must've been having a really bad day... or felt violated in some way.
Do I still feel as paranoid about the web? Not exactly... I think what bothers me most about the web these days is the rampant capitalistic commercialism... but I'm not even going to go there. My biggest actual fear as a blogger is the fear of being misunderstood... mistranslated, or effectively censored by my lack of commercialization. In any case, things are hardly "indelible" on the web. They vanish all the time. And who cares?
However, if the copy (above) in white should suddenly vanish, well, it isn't magic; its housecleaning.
Okay, well, maybe it is magic in a sense. I'm kind of manipulating the past from the future. Which is cool.
But, you know, I'm not even sure I agree with the first half of this post anymore. In the end, I think i Just like the graphic - that is, the graphic still strikes me as true - in that, what we actively seek on the web - though seldom get - is a mind-meld. I also like the comment section... I love positive feedback. Well, okay, I love any feedback... so, thanks LC and BG from the present future past! Whatever.
So, as it now stands: I may erase this entire post except for the graphic, this addendum, and the comments. I'm not even sure the video is still present... on my browser its a black hole. Anyway, call it Art... the Art of Creating Missing Information. Very existential, no? ;-)
(This is a follow-up post to the post in which I introduced an ALF in fossilized form...)
(Way) back when, that is, when I was in my early 20's... I was walking along the beach one night, when what to my eyes did appear but a tiny blue light in the sand near the receding water's edge. But, what's that (!), I thought as I drew closer; some sort of alien jewel that's just dropped from the sky? (I have always been exceedingly imaginative) Crouching down, I lifted the little thing on a flat shell that was conveniently sitting nearby, and closely inspected it.
It was a transparent, gelatinous, elliptical little blob - a little over an inch in length... the blue light I saw was actually a perfectly designed clump of filaments upon which a blue glow travelled along like electricity on a strange sort of organic circuit. I was absolutely mesmerized; it was simply the most beautiful, magical thing I ever saw.
Years later, when I began creating my mysterious artificial life-forms, it wasn't until I sketched ALF #4 (above and below) that my beach incident came back to me... because, in the last analysis, that little "gooseberry" - what I came to discover was a variety of "comb jelly" - was the major unconscious focal point of my inspiration: recapturing that wonderful enchantment of finding a living creature that is just so amazing that it's almost beyond description.
Were you one of those kids that used to dig in your back yard - or somebody else's back yard - looking for some sort of mysterious treasure? Well, that was me as a child... and the weird thing is, I had no conscious idea of what I was looking for or what I hoped to find... it was almost an instinct... in that, I knew there were mysterious, wonderful things to be found in this life, and I was on some mission to discover them. And, I never lost that child's instinct. Only, instead of becoming an archaeologist or a marine biologist in the real world - which I could've done had I had that option - I did my digging inwardly, searching for imaginal treasures. I guess, at some point, I realized that it wasn't really the official world I was most entranced with... and there was nowhere else I could go apart from an imaginal world... hence, I became the mad artist I am! ;-)
(Pictured at the beginning of the post: another species of ALF (and a detail) in what is more a 2-dimensional diorama than it is a "still life"... I just happen to find the idea of ALF's in "still life" artworks more... well, ironic.)
For those (immortal children) who might be interested, here's a Youtube video of some comb jellies (above). I like this film but I have a different soundtrack going through my head... the same soundtrack that always filters through my head when I'm doing ALF work - my favorite Radiohead tune and, possibly, my favorite tune of all time: "All I Need". I found a Youtube selection for it that I'll post below... mainly because something about the song and the images (from the 1996 French film "Microcosmos") are fitted perfectly together (by J. Tyler Helms), and intimate what moves me most as an artist: the unparalleled (and heart-wrenching) beauty of minutiae in the natural, organic world.
