Sunday, October 23, 2005

Magical Consciousness

I was having a conversation with someone on the subject of magic and wishes and whether or not it is acceptable to ask God to do stuff for you. Because when I have attempted in the past to explain to xians that magic is not satanic I have often asked them "Do you not pray for things you need sometimes?"
Well he said, "Actually no, I dont." Because he doesnt believe God should be bothered with his puny problems when there is a whole world of injustice out there to take care of.
I was trying in an earlier conversation to explain how psychic ability is not really mystical, though it can be used to access higher states of consciousness, but is an ordinary brain function. It is a mode of thinking and awareness that is not nurtured in our society for the most part. Nonetheless it is quite possible to train oneself to think in any particular way if one has an aptitude for it, to cultivate a greater ability to relate to mathematical, analytical or creative awareness. Anyone can "be psychic" if you are willing to train your mind that way, and some of us have a stronger inclination to do so than others.
So you make yourself notice the things your mind is trying to tell you and you see things others miss. It is possible to refine this ability to an extent that allows you to access any information you might happen to need. This seems eerie to some, but it is no more so than a mathemetician doing lightning fast calculations in her head, for example. You train your mind to do what you want it to, and pretty soon it does the basic stuff effortlessly on it's own, and as you progress and these things automatically happen in the mind, your conscious brainpower can then be used for further advancement still.
There is a great deal more to see than seems possible before you have trained your Eye to look. There are extremely subtle signals that can give very detailed information. The world around you responds to your thoughts as it does to your actions. The world changes slightly each time you change. Just as it is possible to see far beyond your physical senses' ability to percieve, so you can influence beyond your hands' reach. The words you are reading right now will influence, if only slightly, the direction your thoughts travel in the next while, and it is possible that you may carry these Ideas with you and they may influence your actions, and that may influence the action of others. and in this way I, without speaking, have caused vibrations in the world well outside myself, and that world will move a little differently as a result. This is only a small change, but could have huge consequences. Each different mind that takes in these words will imagine something different in relation to what I have said, and new Ideas will be birthed in this union.
It is possible to do this with your thoughts alone, as you become more aware of how far outside of yourself you are able to percieve, influence, extend. It is possible, by living in harmony with what you percieve, to refine your awareness of it to such a degree that you can place yourself in the path of the things that you want, be in the right place at the right time all the time and at the same time serving as a conduit of similar kosmic generosity for others.
It other words, for me, magic is the art of interacting with the outside world at a very subtle level. Both my hands are open, giving and recieving, or it would not work. My eyes are open, watching for opportunities to give and recieve good. The resulting consciousness and response is what I have come to call, very cutesiely, thinkronicity. Active awareness and participation in the workings of synchronicity. You can make this stuff work like clockwork, I swear, without anyone else ever having to suffer for your good. The world is full and generous and poverty is a state of mind.
He has also introduced me to his somewhat consciousness-altering take on the Christian trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. He says they represent the transcendent divine, the incarnate divine, and the intimate divine. The intimate divine would be the spirit which permeates all things. See you guys? They're not all that different from us, are they? He does not yet see how that becomes the God within, but that is a hard Idea for some people to swallow at first.
Anyway, continual consciousness of the intimate divine as one spirit simultaneously occupying all space puts one in harmony with the way synchronicity actually works, and suddenly magic and psychism become no more difficult than flexing a muscle, focusing an eye. Synchronicity seems no more mysterious than the natural workings of the physical world. When you are acting in harmony with the Will of the spirit, as expressed through your individual being, all things come to you as they are needed to further the development of this consciousness. It takes work though. It takes a willingness to recognize and accept the true depth of generosity and love inherent in the intricate workings of an intelligent universe, and to be an active channel for that energy to flow through. Force will cause the flow to cease, fear will block it. Willingness nurtures it, and faith.
I'm only just getting there now.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

kosmic love

a sun blazes from each eye
you have a universe in your head
the tips of your hair caress the sky
everything you touch is blessed
your words left me beyond speechless
i stare into the dark abyss
that i have been
at times
and reach
toward the newborn stars
emerging
from the nothingness
my outstretched hand meets and twines with yours
as yours is reaching out for mine

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Labyrinth


brothers dancing
sisters weave
a winding spiral tapestry
as i passed you on the path
you smiled
we progress separately
one breath apart one step and one fine line
draws you away from me
slowly pacing forward facing strangers treading gracefully
stop
in the center
heart of the great flower
dwell in the center
in the pulsing swell of power
feel the slip and split and shift of cells expanding
you are standing in the heart and then expelled
returned to the now familiar turns you traced before
and my hand brushes yours
though you are far from where i am
far away but not so distant
i can cross it in an instant
if i will
but i will not
we travel our own journeys back
relearning and unraveling
the pattern of the path
as it winds
as it curls
all the way to the beginning
i stop and take a breath of thanks
returning to the world

my interpretation

Wow, I am pleased and grateful for everyones responses. They were really impressive. Thank you all.
Isnt this fun? I would be interested in your interpretations of my user pic now, or one of my other pieces displayed here and there in this blog. No one has done it w/my art yet. No question, no methodology, just tell me what you see in it and what it means to you. Please do.
This is partly taken directly from the session notes and partly the result of later mulling over and synthesis.
Day 1: sullied
The first things I said were ‘massive cover up job’ and ‘you expect me to buy this?’. The futility of applying black shoe polish to white shoes put me in mind of ‘painting the roses red’ in Alice in Wonderland. A doomed attempt to cover up someone’s mistake. I saw racial connotations in it too, extending to general identity masking.
The two people applying the shoe polish work feverishly, then toss their finished product out the door into the world (the world being art school, which is pretty damn funny). Their revamped readymade. Their ‘nu’ product. They have created nothing new, simply taken something already created, colored over it and called it theirs.
Day 2: do not remove until delivered to customer
In a very regulated order they are creating a new product, but a frivolous and unnecessary one that serves only the purpose of vain comfort. Whereas the day before they had operated by their own efforts, now they had introduced a machine. Also their movements were more machinelike, regulated and precise. Each pillow was superficially different, but created according to the same design, using the same movements each time. This suggests to me a stage at which product standard, technical prowess and knowhow has taken precedence over creative expression, while still allowing a narrow window for expression in the choice of fabric colors.
Perhaps purely because she told me that she had avoided the use of the word ‘consumer’ I had a persistent image of consumerism. She said that the difference to her was consumer seems a mindless state of gobbling up, whereas customer is more personal and suggests discernment. So much for that.
Day 3: the fantastic machines
Fantastic indeed! Reaching a new level of frivolity, we have now created machines just to make noise and keep people busy. They are each ‘plugged in’. They never vary the path they walk about the room, never leave their machine or trade machines. They are more involved and committed, yet less productive and creative than ever.
Btw, r tells me that only she beat her machine in the center. Her partner never came to the center, but hit his at each corner of the room. There’s stuff in that too but I’m not going there right now.
Day 4: die eier von satan
The eggs of satan. Despite derogatory comments about the merits of Tool as a band, this is one of their more amusing songs. For those who have not heard it, it is a repetitive, darkly threatening, heavily industrial background with a voice growling a tirade in German that grows increasingly excited to the point of frenzy, answered by the sound of a crowd cheering. It is obviously meant as a parody of a Hitler speech, and awfully scary unless you realize that it is a recipe for shortbread cookies, which our artists baked for the scene all day long with the song on repeat.
It seemed to me that the machine noise of the song itself emphasized the increased mechanization and regulation of the scene activities. We have a new evolution of the "noise making machine". It is now playing music, but music which sounds very machinelike. The same song repeated over and over. They have introduced other machines as well, the oven, mixers etc. The complexity of their product is also increased, but the product itself is still very frivolous. It is food, which is practical, but it is cookies, which are "junk food". Lots of work for little payback. Instant gratification. Empty calories. It is worth noting that as each box of cookies was tossed out into the "world" they were immediately taken by someone and consumed. The first truly "successful" product.
Day 5: pupate
Sorry there was a t in that word that I missed before.
This scene has the least actual human involvement, though it was originally intended to have the most. They had planned to fill their shapes with their own breath, which has huge symbolism. Breath of life, breath of inspiration, emptying oneself into the work. Except they couldn’t do it, and the machines had to finish the job for them. So they wound up with colorless plastic shapes filled with air by a machine, which still got to be called art. They walked away and left them there.
Golly. If that’s the future of art it looks pretty bleak.
Speaking as a converted photoshop devotee I no longer have any problem with technologizing (I think I just made that word up) art. Sure, let the machine do what is beyond your skill. Kickass. The art I have always wanted to make at the push of a button, yay! However, since I always type instead of handwrite, photoshop instead of paint, I am losing certain manual skills and I become concerned about it sometimes.
However I did not necessarily see the machines as being a literal representation of themselves, but as expressing pattern, structure, formula and ingrained habit. The dehumanizing effect is less in the presence of machinery itself, but in how adherence to pattern replaces spontaneous thought. We have developed all these wonderful systems to show us the right way to do things, to create predictable results, to have a common standard, and we write ourselves right out of the whole equation.
The encouraging thing is that eventually they gave up the exhausting pretense, left it in the boxlike room it had been birthed in, and walked out to go refresh themselves in the real world, letting everyone else puzzle over this useless thing that had been created.
The future of art is artists. Long live the revolution.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Wow, you guys, stuff is happening.
This was the best bday any art revolutionary ever had. I’m starting to get solid on birthdays, the last few have RULED, including my extra one earlier this year.
First of all I found a Che Guevara beret with a red star that was left at my house several months ago. I was overjoyed. A revolutionary thinking cap! Just what I have been needing!
I was having a phone conversation with Dave at the time. This was at like 7:30 am. We had a great argument about co opting a communist symbol and twisting it to my own ends. He thinks I am making nonsense of commonly understood symbolism. I say I am making nusense of it. Ha. I just tried that word out for the first time, its fun for lots of reasons. See, this is why you need a banner and a catchy name and a cool logo. It gives you something really great to play with and make fun of, and that’s what a creative revolution is all about.
So I said to Dave, define communism for me, and he said,
From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.
I said, cool, how does that relate to art? And he said, I don’t know, this is your stupid revolution, not mine. And I said, exactly!
I have no problem with that particular expression of the values of nu-clear realizm. I already said, these are not new Ideas. And if everyone thinks I am a commie, well, at least they’re thinking. And while I have their attention I will slip my Ideas into their awareness, and so the revolution will spread.
And this was all before 9 am.
The day was gorgeous. Ali lent me her green Oscar the Grouch trashionista t-shirt which I wore w/my beret, a black pvc mini skirt, red plaid belt and black boots. I was the stylinest revolutionary ever, or so I thought. So did several gentlemen hollering at me out of car windows on 17th ave later. It was a beautiful day for a strut.
I met up w/Cory and he gave me a red and black t-shirt he made for me that says
THE MOUTHPIECE OF THE REVOLUTION
I nearly died. It is so good to have that kind of support of my cockamamie Ideas. The supercool thing was that on the back it had a black 5 pointed star on red, which corresponded eerily to the red star on my black beret, like yin and yang, which corresponded to a conversation he and I had had a few days before. Talk about synchronicity. He did not know about my beret at all. It was awesome.
I got some wicked loot. My friend Charity loaded me down with 2 bags of stuff, wine, candles, soap, a beautiful scarf and lots of other things. It was amazing.
Ali’s present began a Happening, a very good public experiment in nurealizt thinkronicity. She brought me a gorgeous papyrus scroll with a scene of gods on it. She asked some people to pause their pool game so she could give me my present on the table. They swept their remaining balls into the pockets immediately to give us room. So we made a big ceremonial thing of it. When I unrolled it the strangers asked me "What is happening there? What does it mean?" We had not yet spoken to them of the revolution, it just happened naturally. It was all very weird and Synchronistic. So I told the story that I saw happening there on the papyrus. Then I invited them to come and share their own interpretations. There were some really beautiful readings. I was amazed. Then I went to get another drink and wound up taking 2 guys at the bar through the same process with a beer ad on the wall. It was for Tree beer, and it had a tree in green with all weird shapes and messages in the roots and branches. I asked one guy what he saw in it. He said, "Roots and leaves, why are you trying to overcomplicate this?" I asked what else. He said he didn’t want to see anything else. I said, that’s cool, all interpretations are valid. Then his friend and I had a really good chat about some arcane magic symbols that we found in it, and how we felt when we found them. So much to talk about in just a beer ad! Then I went upstairs and played pool.
When we left later some homeless people outside asked us for spare change, and we told them about the revolution, and they shared their poetry and rap with us. They got really excited too and we all stood there on the street talking about how art can change the world, because it gets inside of you and grows on its own.
I wound up walking home at 2 am, the stars and the moon and the air sang to me, I sang too, which weirded out some people walking up ahead. I got really sick of walking when I was still like 15 minutes away, I was tired and pretty intoxicated and was getting blisters from my boots, but meh, how many birthdays do I ever get where I can walk home at 2 am in a short skirt and light sweater? I dug it as hard as I could.
When I got home there was a comment on my last post that just filled me all up with warm fuzzies. Hooray Strixy! Truly, welcome. I thought you had dismissed me and my flakiness long ago.
Next morning I wore my revolutionary t-shirt to work. A lady with grey hair, probably mid-60s ish, asked me about it. I babbled excitedly about our Ideas for about 10 minutes while she listened intently. I finished by saying,
"It doesn’t matter if the ‘movement’ doesn’t ever turn into a big thing, the Ideas are what matter. You may not remember the words nuclear realizm, but you will remember talking to me, and maybe you will tell a friend ‘I met this weird girl and she said this crazy stuff’ and you guys will talk and you will both see the world a little differently afterwards."
She grabbed my hand and looked deep in my eyes. She said, "I will tell my friends that I met a great woman and she said important things. Your Ideas are wonderful. Keep the revolution going."
Woah.
And so, in spite of my detractors, for her, and for the many like her, we must.
We Will.
Long live the revolution.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

the future of art

Here’s how this whole thing began.
r had to prepare a presentation for art school, so she tricked me into thinking I was having fun and engaging in stimulating arty chit-chat when I was actually helping her do homework. Sneaky.
In the course of this she introduced me to a nifty concept called semiotics, which blew my mind. If you are unfamiliar with semiotics go google it. Semiotics is terrific breakdown of how to read the tarot, though I don’t necessarily think that’s what Saussure had in mind. Could be though.
I mentioned this to r and her jaw hit the floor as we both realized at the same time what the tarot is actually getting at, and that any artwork could be read the same way. "Holy Fuck!!!" we said.
We decided to test this theory. She showed me the material she was using for her presentation, which was a 5-day performance art piece she and a partner had done several years before, titled reductio ad absurdum.
She said, "Do a reading for the future of art using these 5 pieces like tarot cards."
The future of art? That’s big stuff. I was up for it.
We went to a divey pub for beer and I sat looking at the pictures and descriptions of her performance. I read each scene separately, then altogether, just as I would a tarot reading. It was eerie what came out of it.
All scenes were staged in a large room in ACAD, one wall of which was a pane of glass. The performance was purely frivolous, with no deep meaning intended by either artist
Day 1, titled: sullied
r and partner Ben brought in 500 white shoes and sat all day industriously applying black shoe polish to each of them, which really did not work. When each one was covered, they tossed it out the door into the hallway, where they made a big smelly pile.
Day 2: do not remove label until delivered to customer
Sewing machine in the center of the room at which Ben is seated. Pile of fabric and stuffing at one end of the room. Pile of labels that say Do Not Remove Label Until Delivered To Customer. r told me she chose the word customer specifically instead of consumer, which is what is usually seen on such labels.
r, with mechanical, measured movements fetches fabric and brings it to Ben. Wow, there was some fun alliteration in that sentence, did everyone see it? That was unintentional. How nurealizt of me!
Ben sews the fabric into a pillow shape while r goes to get stuffing. R stuffs the pillow and hands it back to Ben, who stitches it shut and sews on the label while r goes to get more fabric. She hands him the fabric and he sews the pillow while she goes and tosses the new pillow out the door.
Day 3: the fantastic machines
They created machines that did nothing. They were just wheels that turned other wheels, rolling on wheels. They pushed these around the room in a specific, unchanging pattern, each at intervals coming to the center. When they got to the center they would whang on their machine as hard and as loud as they could, disrupting classes all over. Again they did this all day long.
Day 4: die eier von satan
Baked the shortbread cookies described in Die Eier Von Satan, by Tool, again using mechanical precision of movement, while the song played on repeat all day. Each batch of cookies was packaged in boxes of 8 bearing the reductio logo, then tossed out the door.
Day 5: pupae
They had a bunch of inflatable plastic shapes that they had intended to spend the day inflating with their own breath. Unfortunately they were so worn out from the previous 4 days effort that they couldn’t be bothered, and used a vacuum cleaner on reverse to do it, then wandered off and left the big inflated things sitting there.
It has occurred to me that I may be doing a disservice to the movement if I post my interpretation of this right away. It is not the only interpretation; it is merely the first.
I am only the first speaker for the revolution. It is my hope that there will be many.
So, help us out with this everyone. Without knowing what it was I saw, tell us what you see. What does this say to you about the future of art? Don’t worry if it’s "right". This is not a test; it’s an experiment in free associative interpretation. Those of you who are tarot-trained may have a lot of fun with this, as I have, but you do not need that background to play this game.
So I’m going to give you all a few days to post your various thoughts and insights, and then I’ll tell you what I said about it.
And THEN I want everybody to do this with the next piece of artwork they see that attracts their attention. Allow your mind to go where it will within the images. Take note of all thoughts that arise, whether in words or pictures, even physical sensations. I was looking at another of r’s pieces, an unfinished (actually barely begun) work created from an old door over which layers of white cotton material were irregularly laid and somehow glued on. She plans to paint on it. It is wrinkled here and there and very oddly shaped and contoured. As I gazed at I began to feel, subtle but quite distinct, the sensation of material caressing and conforming to my chest and belly. It was invasive and confining, but oddly pleasant. I mentioned that to her and she told me that the fabric covering the door was an old t-shirt of hers. Creepy huh? Wyrd huh? You never know when you are going to stumble over a key to an Idea!
This is SO MUCH FUN you guys! Try it right now!
P.S.
When I hit save I could not help but notice that my computer said, "Word is saving the future of art." Wowie. This is me trying just as hard as I can to help.
This has been another example of completely unintentional, deep, relevant meaning coming across to an open-eyed mind, brought to you by your friends at the nu-clear realizm institute for free thinkronicity.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Dont be absurd!

Being a continuation of the statement (and construction) of the principles of nurealizt thought.
You guys didn’t think I was serious did you? Well I was and am, we are, even though it was a giant joke. I laugh at all the most serious things in life. Get used to it.
Art is, or should be, for everyone. Ideas are alive. They are real things that express themselves through people who will love them enough to work to bring them into material reality. They sing for whoever will listen, dance for whoever will watch.
Every interpretation of a work of art is valid because Ideas speak to different people in different languages. If you see something in a painting that no one else saw, that was the painting’s message for you alone. That was the Idea translating itself through your mind, through your unique awareness. That was your own Idea translating itself into your awareness through the painting.
It is possible no one else will ever see it exactly the same way even if you describe it perfectly. Another person may see something completely different, and maybe you talk about it, and maybe now you both see something that you didn’t see before and have learned something about your own minds you didn’t know. Ideas love to dress up in other people’s clothes. That’s what art is for.
Don’t be a snob. Don’t think you know what art is, even if you are an artist or expert critic or art school teacher and you don’t think of anything else all day long. There is an Idea out there capable of making nonsense of your preconceptions. Then again, your preconceptions are part of what forms your current perception, and the channel through which the art will be translated for you, and that is valid also. But you will see more with you mind open.
I do not neccesarily attribute everything I see to the artists intentions.
An Idea can be expressed through any willing person, may be expressed by many people, and may encompass many details, all while getting to one specific point, which may take a lot of examining to find. That point may be utterly missed by the artist's conscious awareness. Maybe all the artist thought was, "this would look cool" but somehow the image created struck a relevant chord with everyone who viewed it. Maybe a slightly different chord with each person, but weaving over time a whole symphony of associations.
I think that it is important to recognize that over time the way a particular work of art is viewed is changed by the insights expressed by the different viewers. This is is very important in my opinion because it suggests to me that art is co-created by the people who see it, think about it, and talk about it, that it continues to grow and mature in its being as it is exposed to more attention.
Think about the Mona Lisa and its famous "mysteriousness". Suppose Da Vinci wasn't going for mystery. Thats what everyone saw. Is it even possible to see the painting for itself without those associations coloring your view? More importantly, did any two people experience exactly the same thing? A new variation on that Idea was created in the mind of every person who looked at it. Isn't that neat?
It doesnt matter what the artist intends. Ideas are alive and they do what they want. Your brothers and sisters here at the nuclear realizt school of looking and seeing want you to have as many as you can, and cultivate your own creativity to give them a good, fertile place to take root and grow.
Clear your mind and try it right now!

Monday, October 10, 2005

happy bday to me

this thursday upcoming is my birthday, which i generally try unsuccessfully to ignore. not so this year. i have decided to celebrate, even though the last time i did a thing like this it didnt go so well. i aint no quitter.
this bday represents my becoming "almost 30" (28 is getting awfully close isnt it?) its a big deal and i want some attention. so here is the plan.
3raser asked where the best place to get drunk in my city was. thats calgary btw. i have two faves and i wanna hit both. youre totally welcome is you can make it, 3
we shall begin at 6pm at the vicious circle 1st and 11 ave sw, where it will be happy hour till 7pm, and the atmosphere is always very hip, very cool, very relaxed.
when we are sick of vish, we will head 1 block south to the hop in brew (12 ave) where they have many fantastic varieties of beer and really excellent pizza. there we will stay, unless someone comes up with something way cooler to do. come one, come all.
a few of you are obviously too far away to come, those who are not, please do. yes we all have work in the morning, but i have to do my debauching on thursday, because friday i am being taken out for some kind of good, clean, wholesome fun. anyone wanna guess who's idea that was?
i dont even know what to think of myself anymore.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

reductio ad absurdum

Postmodern confusion exploded by nu-clear realizm.
What the hell is art? There is an awful lot of snobby attitude surrounding art and what constitutes art, versus for example, craft. 3 stripes on a white canvas can be art and sell for millions, but a handcrafted mosaic of the map of a harbor town painstakingly constructed of seashells, stones and bottle glass and displayed at the local church bazaar is given no place in art discussions, regardless of the tremendous creativity, thought, innovation and potential depth of meaning in such a work. The art world is, alas, largely dominated by this kind of thinking. I should say, this lack of thinking, recognition or realization. A movement that stated as its primary tenet the rejection of confining definitions has become the establishment, as confining and exclusionary as what it had hoped to emancipate us from.
And so we propose to emancipate ourselves.
Welcome to the new realizm.
Art is expression. It is possible to refine the technique of that expression through study and practice. It is possible to refine one’s analytical abilities by the same means. These are worthy pursuits. We must not, however, make the mistake of confusing education, expertise, or skill with the creative elements or process of art itself. Nor is it useful to differentiate between sources to define what art is or is not.
The burgeoning movement known as nuclear realizm seeks to explore the principles of creative expression in all its forms. It proposes to adopt an attitude of "colorblindness" regarding source, giving equal consideration to craft or folk art and professionally or commercially produced works in the search for meaning and relevance.
We reject the elitism of the art world and view each piece as itself alone, without reference to the forms, materials or techniques previously defined as "art" or "not art". We give secondary consideration to the meaning of the piece in the context of the artist’s life, their level of education, age, circumstances and intentions, and greater emphasis to the initial or "pure" interpretation of the individual viewer.
We return to reality itself for inspiration, realizing that Reality is multifaceted and multileveled. We seek honesty of expression and clarity of interpretation. We validate all expression and all interpretation as the multiplexity of potential meaning surrounding the nucleus of truth at the motivational center of the work.
It is our hope to establish a new way of approaching art appreciation and study that includes all earnest forms of creative expression. We temporarily dismiss the intellectual/analytical approach in favor of intuitive free association. This allows us to place our seashell mosaic on the wall next to the works of Dali or Kahlo, collages by gradeschoolers, and tarot imagery, as well as all other forms of creative expression, from literature to music, and view them all independently of their contexts. Our interest is not in objective quality, but subjective depth.
Once the initial impression has been allowed to form in the mind of the viewer and the piece has been explored fully in the context of that impression, then the artist’s intentions may be explored to whatever extent is desired.
This is not to say that all art is good, or qualitatively equal. We only state that all creative expression is art and deserves appreciation and consideration based solely on the individual merits of each piece. Not every interpretation is objectively correct in the motivational context of the piece, but is subjectively truthful to the viewer and must be given consideration as such. Thus an uneducated critique has as much validity as a well educated one, and may in fact have more interpretive usefulness, not being weighed down by heavily structured thinking.
This, we hope, will eliminate pointless semantic discourses and return art discussion to its proper range, being content, imagery, meaning and impact. We further hope to make these subjects accessible to those who do not care to engage in the posturing and intellectual status seeking so often found in art circles.
The use of z instead of s in realizm is intended to point to the heart of our purpose, which is realization, meaning both a coming to awareness of something and also making real. The z is a lightning bolt to illuminate the subject in a flash of insight, a shock to wake up the thinking mind, a blast of energy to assist us in exploding the old conventional approach. Also z looks snappy and we don’t like isms.
The best argument in favor of this movement in found right here in these statements. Not so much in their content, though I have endeavored to be clear and persuasive, but in the fact that I have drawn my readers through an essay of utterly fabricated art jargon, having no idea what I am talking about whatsoever, about a movement that was just made up in the last few weeks, consisting so far of two proponents, though growing even as I speak.
I have made this whole thing up, because r thought it would be fun to play silly buggers with the conventions of the art world, and that I absolutely deserve to be considered one of the foremost thinkers on current art, even though I know fuck all about it. I agree.
Intelligent discourse is not only for Phd.s, we can all do it, if we are not too afraid to think and too intimidated to express.
And if you guys bought this, I can sell it to the whole world. Just watch.
Didn't this seem just a little obvious to everyone?

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Die Nibelungen, or; Cheaters Never Prosper (for long)

God I am doing a lot of weird things with my time lately.
The other night I went to the university science theatre to see the silent film Die Nibelungen, directed by Fritz Lang. It is the story of the hero Seigfried and his adventures.
Having learned all he can about the blacksmithing trade, Seig is about to ride home to his father’s kingdom when he hears of a faraway castle called Worms ruled by a great king named Gunther, whose sister is a lovely and pious maiden called Kreimhild. After bullying an old man for directions he sets off to get the girl.
On the way he meets a dragon, or what we are expected to presume is a dragon. I am assured that this poor decrepit beast was a feat of astounding technical prowess for the times, but it could barely move. It was drinking from a pool beneath a waterfall, peacefully minding its own business when along comes Seigfried and attacks it! He hit it on the snout 3 times with his sword before it finally breathed fire in retaliation, and the poor old thing could barely heave it past the end of its own nose! Nonetheless, our mighty hero stabs out the eye, and then the heart, which pours hot blood in a copious gush.
A little bird tells him that if he bathes in the blood he will become invincible, so he exuberantly (everything this guy does is exuberant!) leaps down to catch the stream as it trickles off the embankment. The dead wyrm’s tail gives a final twitch, which sends a leaf of the linden tree fluttering down to stick to one spot on his back, which of course keeps the shield of blood incomplete.
He wins a Wonder Cap from an old dwarf who attacks him for reasons not entirely clear. The Wonder Cap bestows invisibility or polymorph ability according to the will of the user. The dwarf, now at Seig’s mercy, promises great riches if his life is spared. They go into a cave where there is a great stone basin full of treasure, held on the shoulders of a circle of dwarves, he finds some kind of magic sword, and winds up having to kill the old dwarf after all, who attacks him again, very clumsily this time. In his death throes he flips our hero the bird and curses him, before turning himself and the other dwarves to stone, or "returning" as he said.
He goes on to subjugate 12 kings and 12 kingdoms. In case no one was counting, that makes 13 kings including him. Interesting, no?
With this retinue, he comes at last to Worms and asks Gunther for the hand of Kriemhild. Gunther, or rather Gunther's right hand guy whose name I forget (we will call him Grimnir, since he was missing an eye) tells our hero that Gunther is seeking a bride as well, a mighty queen called Brunhild who has said she will marry only the man who can best her three times in feats of strength. Suitors who fail die, of course. I wish I had thought of that a few months ago when we had the tournament. Would have simplified things a lot.
After some indignant posturing at being asked to serve another person in any way, Seigfried agrees to help Gunther win the lady.
And this is where it starts to get really stupid. Pasty, passive Kreimhild emerges, bearing the cup of welcome to Seig. She keeps her eyes downcast, we assume in maiden modesty, though it could be dread or dislike. She had an awful dream about a dove (doves again!) attacked by two ravens, which she describes immediately before Seig’s arrival. Since this is a German story, I am wondering if the ravens represent Odin’s ravens, Huggin and Munnin; Thought and Memory. Considering her eventual fate, it seems apt.
He eyes her over the rim of the cup, and she raises her own gaze to meet his. She stands (dazed, transfixed, resigned?) until her mother leads her away.
And off they go.
The men arrive at Iceland, Brunhild’s domain. Her castle is surrounded by flames, which die for Seigfried, signifying the god’s approval of him. Brunhild is all ready for battle, which Gunther wins ONLY because Seigfried dons his wonder cap and invisibly helps him.
Brunhild is not impressed. She seems to intuit that something is very wrong with all this. As the ship docks back in Gunther’s kingdom, she wrestles him to the ground and says, "I may be your prisoner, but I will never be your wife!"
And so everyone gets married.
The two couples kneel opposite each other to receive the blessing of the priest in the church, who only seems to ask that the men agree. Fucking typical.
Then the two men go and get blood bonded in a ceremony performed by Grimnir in the woods beneath a tree. The men stand facing each other, right hands clasped, eye to eye, while they sip the combined blood from a bowl.
The comparison between the postures of the two scenes is very interesting.
Brunhild is determined that, while some priest may wave a cross at her and bind her hand to this man she hates, in the most important way she will not be his wife. She broods in the bedroom while King Gunther the Gutless wrings his hands in the throne room, and finally gets Seig to go do the job for him. Actually in all fairness, it is Grimnir who baits him to go and "break her iron will."
So he slips on the Wonder Cap again, and this time disguised as Gunther himself (wonder why they didn’t think of that before?) goes in and beats her up. During this battle he takes from her a golden armlet shaped like a serpent (wyrm? Hmmmm….) and hides it in his cloak. Now, of course, I assumed that stealing the armlet was a metaphor for taking the hymen, as well as her dignity and autonomy. We shall see. She seems thoroughly defeated when the real Gunther comes back. She lies draped across the bed while he tries to, I don’t know, comfort her, get her attention, something, and Seig goes on to claim his own bride.
You’d think they would let it end here, but oh no. A year passes, the Nibelungen treasure arrives, and Kreimhild finds the hidden armlet. She asks Seigfried and he tells her how he got it. She promises not to tell anyone, but that very day Brunhild snubs her, and in a fit of the first real passion this girl has displayed, she blabs the story so that Brunhild will know that Seigfried bested and rejected her. Brunhild freaks and tries to kill herself. I don’t think because of the rejection but because of her humiliation at having been won through trickery and forced to live a life of enslavement to a man too cowardly to even attempt the deed himself. She is prevented by the guards from leaping off the drawbridge.
She tells Gunther that Seigfried took her maidenhood, which seems to come as a great big shock to him, though really I don’t know what else was meant by "break her iron will". She says she will fast until she is avenged.
Gunther calls for a hunt in the forest and he and Grimnir plot to murder Seigfried. Kreimhild begs Grimnir to protect Seig from a chance blade that may fall in his vulnerable spot. Grimnir says he needs to know exactly where it is, so she sews a little x on the shoulder of his tunic.
In the woods, Grimnir challenges Seig to race to the brook for the first drink of water. Seig tries to get Gunther to take his hand and be friends again. Gunther sits on a log, writhing in miserable guilt and finally says he will when Seig is back from the stream. The two men take off running, but Grimnir immediately returns and grabs his spear. He slams it through the x on our hero’s tunic while he is drinking from the stream, which is a lovely bit of full circle poetic justice if you ask me. I really felt sorry for that dragon.
Anyway, the final scenes are when the movie becomes most visually beautiful. There are some very good shots throughout, but Mr. Lang really pulled out all the stops for the last 10 minutes or so. They return bearing the hero on a bier. Kreimhild is heartbroken of course, which is very artfully illustrated by a scene in her mind of an exuberant Seigfried flinging his arms out in characteristic style on a hillside by a blossoming tree. Then he disappears and the tree dies, and then gradually fades into a skull shape. The death of her love, the death of her springtime, innocence, youth, hope, and trust. She accuses Grimnir and appeals to Gunther for justice, but he, and all the men, take Grimnir’s side. Fucking typical. She swears revenge.
Then Gunther goes to tell Brunhild she is avenged. She laughs and says the whole rape thing was a lie, and he just betrayed his truest friend for nothing. Hmmm. I may be a bit cynical here, but I believed her the first time. If I were she and had been raped, I would still tell King Gutless that I had lied about it afterward, just to add to his well-deserved mental anguish. I dunno. I do know that the final scene is Kreimhild back on the church where the body of Seigfried lays before the altar, and Brunhild slumps at his foot with a dagger in her breast. Kreimhild kneels at his head, and that is the end. About fucking time too, 2 ½ hours later.
It was a terrific story in that it did not contain one single really likeable character, one person you could feel good about rooting for. Except the dragon. It was so cute, all slow and pathetic with little nubby teeth. Seigfried was a dick. And what the hell was going on with everyone’s hair I am sure I don’t know. I have never seen so much bad hair in one movie, ever.
It was a good time though, as time spent in certain company always is.
Anyone want to try to best me in a fair fight? I, like Brunhild, can only be won by one who can match me in strength. Oh wait, most of you have tried already. Well you’re all just lucky to be alive then, aren’t you?

Monday, October 03, 2005

Peace, dude

Synchronicity is sometimes inconvenient.
Yesterday I was out for a bike ride in a hailing thunderstorm. Doesn’t that sound like good times? No but really I was enjoying it, the rain was very refreshing and the thunder was very exciting and the hail didn’t really sting that much. Ali was with me, which was great, because we don’t get to ride together enough, but she was behind me and I was lost in my own thoughts.
I was pondering extreme pacifism. Weird, huh? This subject has been on my mind lately as a result of the relationship I am in. My xian believes in nonviolence to the point of refusing to defend oneself from attack, since harming another is wrong for any reason, even if they are going to kill you. At least from human attack. Apparently animals are a different story.
This kind of thinking gives me the shrieking willies. Refusal to preserve ones life and health from any attack, human, animal, bacterial etc. seems utterly wrong to me. However this is someone I respect a lot, and I have taken to pondering his opinions of things, which are different from my own in many ways, with a seriousness I generally would not give to such ideas.
So I am cruising along and asking myself questions about this. I have an easier time relating through emotional or spiritual violence, since I have experienced more of it. I have never been seriously physically injured. I was thinking about times when I have utilized nonviolent resistance instead of force in defending myself from these things. I have found that it is quite possible to deflect or neutralize harm altogether, or has been so far. In other words I can definitely see the validity of his position, but I still think I would rather KO a mugger than fall to his dirty blade, if push came to shove. That goes double for a rapist. Principles are all well and good, but no principle will ever make me hold still for that.
That being said, I do not advocate excessive force. I also do not advocate allowing anger to motivate action. Some of you reading this are aware that I am both a pretty aggressive person and have been trained in one of the more brutal martial arts, though I haven’t practiced in years. Some of you got to experience it firsthand and may even still bear the faint imprint of the mats apon your face. Hee hee. That, however, was all in good fun, and my natural response to any sense of physical threat is more defensive and meditative. My feeling is that that people have a responsibility to preserve their own well being, but also to maintain compassionate restraint, as well as a meditative consciousness of the effects of their actions. It is generally not necessary to permanently damage someone in order to disable their attack. Thus both members of the conflict are saved from excessive harm.
But he believes differently, as I said, in a way that is very challenging for me to deal with, emotionally as well as intellectually. Yet I know it is an important principle to him, and the question really is not whether I agree, (I don’t) but whether I can accept it.
These were the things I was considering as I zoomed through the hail and rain. During a thunderclap I glanced up at the sky and saw a sudden fluttering flash of white against the heavy grey clouds. It landed on the roof of a house up ahead and I stopped and stared at it in disbelief. There beneath a churning, angry sky rattled by thunder, soaking wet and pelted by hail serenely stood a pure white dove. A dove! I have never seen one before, it just looked like pictures I have seen of doves. A freaking dove though, you guys! I am all about the shamanic omens and crap so now what am I supposed to think? I mean come on, a dove? And I stood there watching it, and Ali stopped and we both just stared at this bird standing unperturbed by the storm, while lots of other birds flew by as fast as they could. I thought, "Why doesn’t it fly away? Why is it just standing there in the rain?"
The next thought was, "Why am I?"
The answer of course is Will.
Hah, you didn’t think I was going there did you?
Ok, so check it out. I have previously explained that I believe the inner spiritual will to be the clearest indication of Divine Will In a person’s life. It represents a person’s particular calling in the world and, unless they allow this to be suppressed, will form the larger part of their ethical system. It is not the same as id or ego desires, it is more like the totality of all desire, all willingness, ultimate realization and fulfillment of individual spiritual purpose.
The dove is the symbol of peace, right? Well what exactly is peace? It is more than simply the absence of violence; it is a thing in itself that exists independently of the concept of violence or negative emotional states. Peace is a state of harmony between ones inner and outer worlds. Fear, which leads to violence, comes from a sense of uncertainty of, and attachment to, outcome in the outer world and the effects of those changes on the inner. I think someone is trying to harm me, I fear deprivation, I fear I will suffer, lose myself, die. These fears rattle me up until I become as uncertain as the future. This is the place from which we make mistakes, from which it begins to look like a good idea to hurt someone. If I keep centered in my Will and act from that center I will remember that it never is a good idea to cause harm if it can be avoided. I can protect my own safety without compromising the respect I hold for life and personal autonomy, theirs or mine. I don’t feel that volunteering to accept pain and injury oneself is the correct response, as an extreme pacifist does, but I’m all about compromise and moderation.
The point is that there is a better way to do things. He has his way and I have mine and they both come from deeply held convictions at the center of our beings, which for us override petty emotional reactions. We act not by whim but by Will. This having been decided, uncertainty disappears, and we have peace. When we have certain knowledge that we are doing what is right, we have peace. We have inner stillness. Once the internal conflict is resolved, the external ones become much easier to handle. There is a state one can attain, and maintain, that makes it possible to go calmly amid the noise and haste, to stand defiant of hail and wind for the sake of something more important than that moments comfort, for the fulfillment of the Will, and that is peace.
Wisdom comes from strange sources sometimes. Did I also carry a message for the Dove? Perhaps. I hope so. Learning should move in both directions.
I told you guys before how my bike is my magic broomstick and we go on spirit journeys together all the time. This is what I mean. Like the walks I used to take with Nephilim late at night.
Later that day I saw a rainbow. A dove and then a rainbow, sheesh. I asked god, "Don’t you think you are laying it on a little thick?" and the rain kept sprinkling merrily like an amused twinkle in the eye of the sun.
Moments after this a stressful financial concern of mine miraculously resolved itself, along with some personal tension that had been building. Then I went out and was treated to the unexpected joy of a few hours with a person I had been missing all day, and then I went to a jam, sang songs I wrote, danced to wicked blues and made some excellent contacts, plus got free beer from the host who is an old friend of mine. He and I are going to jam next week, which I have wanted to do for ages.
My fast forward horoscope said it would be an awesome week. New moon in my sign today, we are only just getting started.
Ok fine, lay it on as thick as you want, that’s cool.
Peace, magic, miracles.
Synchronicity kicks ass, you guys.