I just rewatched the Shining. If you've been living on Mars and not seen it because you've just arrived I'd recommend not reading on as I am going to SPOIL IT ALL for you.
Study for a painting. Not the man but - the indescribable force, Wakan Tanka, the God of Gods, I Am , Jah, Yahweh and a thousand other names. (This is trying to draw the undraw-able but that never stopped me before. It is actually more like some of my older paintings than I would have expected - before I drew it. Like the hole in the head (but healthier, or like the death one, but not dark, though it is quite sad, but then I imagine God may be quite sad, just with all the beauty of it all and the sadness of watching the world struggle with its freedom - our free will, and the consequences of our choices - I am sure he'd like to intervene more, but then we wouldn't be free we'd just be a mechanical toy, and we are not we are alive. We choose. And we can choose to ask him for help. It's a wonder more of us don't. But anyway.) In the end, what got me moving (as I had seized up like my jaw after the dentist) was my thinking about mitochondria - the energy generating, converting, life giving cells in all living organisms… and I was also looking at a picture of the sacrum bone, because one way or another the truth is right here/here, it just might not mean what you think it does. Maybe God is in our very living cells, is what animates us? Or maybe we are the 'cells' that make up what God is; We are the vibrating mass of energy that comes from him. So I tried drawing that.
It appears we are not the only ones on intelligence gathering missions round here! Even I KING (lady) Pixie (Stick) Dragon was interrupted in mid munch and forced into inanimacy by the GIGANTISM of the freaky pink legless proportionately short broad stick hewman the size of ten ivy branches intertwined! It's FACE was up against the greasy wall and it's EYES are the size of our mid-nymphs' entire body length! I was happily munching and swaying with veritable pleasure when I saw it's great head lowering and rising again whilst holding what appeared to be someone quite like our great mother (rigid with terror of course) and leaving a trail of ivy juice on a small wall held horizontal in its enormous front foot. Truly it is a bizarre and monstrous thing, though I get the distinct feeling it is trying to communicate with us or it likes us at least. As the leader I am bound to speak on our behalf once I work out what kind of leaves it likes and can bribe it accordingly, ideally to leave our territory be, or at least to regularly replenish our area whilst handling us very VERY gently if it REALLY MUST keep putting its fantastically large and heated feet into our branches. Whenever it does we all meet on the sky net and survey the changes to our land - that way I can decide who gets to eat the new leaves and which of my number must remain on the dried and crispy remnant of last month's stock.
Here is a readable version. This is my wish-fulfillment comedy take on the inevitable difficulties family obligations lead us to face at christmas!
So, for this month's installment, part 2 "rabbit stew again?", I went to a lot of trouble to contact my (imaginary) great great great granddaughter who lives in the year 2115. All I needed to do to achieve this seemingly impossible feat was to bury a time capsule!
I felt sick and thought about drawing the ceiling it was all I could see. Then I felt better and drew my little table. It's like writing a diary. It doesn't matter what you say, it's that you are saying it. The act of drawing makes me feel better. I think when I am drawing I sort my head out. It needs to be relatively functional to draw at all (not stressed) but the drawing activity in my brain lets the other part check itself without too much tightness, control.
Took a break from drawing. Have another painting on display at Ragley Studios, Alcester where I entered their open Studios competition. I got through the first round to exhibit so that's nice. I don't like the feeling of being on display much, though it is the point, I'd prefer my work to be owned and loved than peered at. It is still an endorsement I need. Also really good to be in touch with the best art teacher I had.
So as always she helped me, just a tip, she said my work reminded her of Willem de Koonig, I hadn't seen his stuff, but I know I am an abstract expressionist (for my sins) but when I saw what he was doing, I just felt like - maybe its ok to just be myself here.
My best work comes from a strong emotion. What stronger emotions should one feel than in the face of superficial dismissal of human dignity?
This is happening all over the world, Gaza, Afghanistan, Sudan, Syria. and Ferguson, Missouri.
This situation is not only a metaphor, sadly it was a person's life, it is a community's experience, a microchosm of all that is wrong in the world. The protectors turned aggressors, blatant lies believed over facts, appearances 'taken as read' by ignoramuses! Wrong assumptions, needless pain, blind eyes and guess what ensues: rage, chaos and hopelessness.
But there ARE millions of people who care. Who do see. Who aren't just looking at people from the outside. Who see people's hearts not their skin or tribe or wallet size. We can't get bigger guns, or cheezier news stations, but we can tell the truth and protect ourselves. Love anyway.
In continuation of yesterday, what the records show. My starting point, re-analysed and layered, expanded upon with todays drawing - some text, were some collages from 2008 and a drawing from 1997 somehow making more sense now than they did at the time. Made me think of time warps, the flow of things, images, places, doors and texts; contrasted with the cold subject of data, theft, politicking and brinkmanship.
This topic just keeps returning to challenge my it seems rather fragile ego and will continue to do so I expect until I have a healthy bob once more. Though I suppose it could happen that I grow to like my what is now a pixie cut very much, though waking up with a flat patch on the back of my head every morning is rather annoying.
This is a little ahead of schedule print-wise, but if you are proactive enough to check out my site based on last week's
Vert I think you deserve a little reward. Note the answers to the crossword.
I am all for social and progressive living (see my blog post about Adair Turner who lectures, to paraphrase "after you have what you need the rest is relative wealth and doesn't increase happiness". I am sure we will move on from Capitalism but let us value peace and quiet, natural places, rural enclaves and not go tearing up the land in such a way it will be spoilt forever. Cities are wonderful and human rich places but one big city would be a nightmare. It looks like HS2 may never happen, which would restore our faith in cost benefit analysis and human collective decision making. Also DEFRA is doing a good job with things like farmers 'subsidies for meadow planting. The EU ban on Neonicotinoids is a logical necessity (we need Bees). So the world may not be in PERIL (for now) and yet we still have to play our part, there is always the next episode.
This weekend I went all the way down to the sea. I love the sea. Everyone is just enjoying the air and watching the water, picking up pebbles and squinting at the sun. Everyone is more relaxed by the sea it seems to me. These are the kinds of important things you consider while sprawled on your back feeling your body warm through while the Gulls observe the wildlife invading their beach.
After getting disproportionately nervous and working disproportionately hard for the presentation of my preview at the Bristol convention, I felt a need to refresh, reconsider and renew. In short I thought I might do something else for a bit, get all goggle eyed and big on the world by looking at tiny things and then return to my central task anew. So this week I will be mostly studying insects and the like. I am sure you feel better now that you know that. Good. Carry on.
shut the front door