Patterns patterns on the wall HumPty Splattered from the Fall Broken Shells are cloaked in veils Of masked mouths in modern sprawl Twisting tales and telling lies And pointing Fingers at the I's We build the burden of our own demise Fill the garden with Sown Reprise With complicit cowardice we cast the Die And wait for Fu(h)ror to Rise the Tide Oh sweet Souls who hide enDemic Panic Beneath the ruse of false compassion We Wove this World and Play within It Keyholes In Cells we Formed and Fashioned
Researchers have finally come up with a viable new vaccine called PAL……’Protection Against Life’. Apparently, by being exposed to the ever changing and unpredictable states of being termed, generally, Life, we are ALL at an increased risk of DEATH! In fact, 10 out of 10 people are suspected to have the dis-ease called ‘non-homeostasis’ and which seems to be apparent from the moment of birth…..actually, to be scientifically correct, it is evident even BEFORE birth. This new PAL vaccine will inhibit the ability of the body and mind, and what some term the ‘soul energy’ to remain open to and adapt to the ‘ever in flux’ environmental and physical tensions that are an inherent part of this Reality Tunnel…..thus, shielding the Human Organism from having to face or use Consciousness in a creative way in order to maneuvre in this amorphous and ambiguous Field of Experience called, nostalgically, Life. Interestingly enough, the use of this vaccination deems the host organism totally manageable and predictable, and homogenized…..and hence more easily controlled and used for any purpose that the researchers deem important or relevant .
The mind points out it’s own precision The pen tip presses upon the page The blank sheets are washed and dried as bleeding crimes in tangled lines Are hung to dry with dripping rage
The mind draws lines with its own decisions The desperate drama of dreams debate The Carpet rolls out the curtains rise The Callosum opens its Myelin eyes As actors weave axioms upon the stage
The mind circles round its own confusion The neural nodes nap within the cage The fasciculus finds and hooks the hive The fissure formed from space and time Is stitched to heal with macrophage….
….the ritual bell, the wafting smell of Burning sages in prizm cells, Hanging from the dangling nous, The heart bares scars from tearing youth From the of searing truth of heaven and hell…
…the eye of the hurricane is on its way, to ransack and flapjack the core of all our brains, speeding up the rate at which we perceive the perforation, the fate of which could rip and tear a nation, a station, a fusion of minds incoherent redundant grasping for meaning but dormant fleeing the feeling of torment peeling the rots from the dealings and knots from the zealous run leper run
run leper run its all just for fun on a level so deep its not understood does it make it less Real does it make it less concrete does it make it worth the run the gun the gripping of the sun in attempt to hide defeat
SMILE on the periphery it is a storm, a chaos, an insistence on resistance but at the core, it’s unchanged, it neverwas and neverwillbe, and neveris, but still existing giving us the balance to create lands in time hands in line to co create with malleable laws
implicate order enfolded within each explicate experience shooting out from the source in fractals of difference and intensity and vibration and density till the impulse reaches completion loses its thrust coarsens its vibration yet mimics the One and then begins its evolution back to the Within with all the cohesion of experience and lessons and soulsparks and mouldings holding on to Awareness as it ascends back to the heart of the hologram to enrich the totality of all that is with each divine perspective as it returns and ReTurns the wheel as the cycle continues and spins out again the impulsion the force the flickering light of love to enforce the dynamic dance of desperate dreams……………
It is a mistake to talk about the artist looking for his subject. In fact, the subject grows within him like a fruit and begins to demand expression. It is like childbirth. The poet has nothing to be proud of. He is not master of the situation, but a servant. Creative work is his only possible form of existence, and his every work is like a deed he has no power to annul. For him to be aware that the sequence of such deeds is due and ripe, that it lies in the very nature of things, he has to have faith in the idea; for only faith interlocks the system of images for which read system of life.
Andrei Tarkovsky
It is a mistake to talk about the artist looking for his subject. In fact, the subject grows within him like a fruit and begins to demand expression. It is like childbirth. The poet has nothing to be proud of. He is not master of the situation, but a servant. Creative work is his only possible form of existence, and his every work is like a deed he has no power to annul. For him to be aware that the sequence of such deeds is due and ripe, that it lies in the very nature of things, he has to have faith in the idea; for only faith interlocks the system of images for which read system of life.
Andrei TarkovskyThe allotted function of art is not, as is often assumed, to put across ideas, to propagate thoughts, to serve as example. The aim of art is to prepare a person for death, to plough and harrow his soul, rendering it capable of turning to good. Touched by a masterpiece, a person begins to hear in himself that same call of truth which prompted the artist to his creative act. When a link is established between the work and its beholder, the latter experiences a sublime, purging trauma. Within that aura which unites masterpieces and audience, the best sides of our souls are made known, and we long for them to be freed. In those moments we recognize and discover ourselves, the unfathomable depths of our own potential, and the furthest reaches of our emotions.
Andrei TarkovskyWhen I speak of the aspiration towards the beautiful, of the ideal as the ultimate aim of art, which grows from a yearning for that ideal, I am not for a moment suggesting that art should shun the ‘dirt’ of the world. On the contrary! the artistic image is always a metonym, where one thing is substituted for another, the smaller for the greater. To tell of what is living, the artist uses something dead; to speak of the infinite, he shows the finite. Substitution… the infinite cannot be made into matter, but it is possible to create an illusion of the infinite: the image.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeA poet is someone who can use a single image to send a universal message.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Andrei Tarkovsky: InterviewsI don’t know… I think I’d like to say only that they should learn to be alone and try to spend as much time as possible by themselves. I think one of the faults of young people today is that they try to come together around events that are noisy, almost aggressive at times. This desire to be together in order to not feel alone is an unfortunate symptom, in my opinion. Every person needs to learn from childhood how to spend time with oneself. That doesn’t mean he should be lonely, but that he shouldn’t grow bored with himself because people who grow bored in their own company seem to me in danger, from a self-esteem point of view.
Andrei TarkovskyAn artistic image is one that ensures its own development, its historical viability. An image is a grain, a self-evolving retroactive organism. It is a symbol of actual life, as opposed to life itself. Life contains death. An image of life, by contrast, excludes it, or else sees in it a unique potential for the affirmation of life. Whatever it expresses—even destruction and ruin—the artistic image is by definition an embodiment of hope, it is inspired by faith. Artistic creation is by definition a denial of death. Therefore it is optimistic, even if in an ultimate sense the artist is tragic. And so there can never be optimistic artists and pessimistic artists. There can only be talent and mediocrity.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986One doesn’t need a lot to be able to live. The great thing is to be free in your work. Ofcourse it’s important to print or exhibit, but if that’s not possible you are still left with the most important thing of all — being able to work without asking anybody’s permission.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986Why are they all trying to make me into a saint? Oh God! Oh God! I want to do things. Stop turning me into a saint.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986If you throw even a cursory glance into the past, at the life which lies behind you, not even recalling its most vivid moments, you are struck every time by the singularity of the events in which you took part, the unique individuality of the characters whom you met. This singularity is like the dominant note of every moment of existence; in each moment of life, the life principle itself is unique. The artist therefore tries to grasp that principle and make it incarnate, new each time; and each time he hopes, though in vain, to achieve an exhaustive image of the Truth of human existence. The quality of beauty is in the truth of life.
Andrei TarkovskyOur fraught way of life gives each of us a narrowly defined role, creating conditions conducive to developing only those elements in our psyche which allow us to grow within the confines of that role. The other areas of our psyche waste away. Hence lack of contact. Here psychological and social factors combine, and produce fear, distrust, moral baseness and the death of hope.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986For many years I have been tormented by the certainty that the most extraordinary discoveries await us in the sphere of time . We know less about time than about anything else.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986I believe in one thing: the human spirit is immortal and indestructible. In the beyond there could be anything, it is of no importance whatsoever. What we call death is not death. It’s a rebirth. A caterpillar becomes a cocoon. I think there is a life after death and it is that that is unnerving. It would be so much simpler to conceive of oneself as a telephone cord that is unplugged. Then you could live any way that you wanted. God would have no importance of any kind.
Andrei TarkovskyIf a writer, despite his natural gifts, gives up writing because no one will publish him, then he is no writer. The artist is distinguished by his urge to create, which by very definition is a concomitant of talent.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986The death of childhood is the beginning of poetry.
Andrei TarkovskyAll creative work strives for simplicity, for perfectly simple expression; and this means reaching down into the furthest depths of the recreation of life. But that is the most painful part of creative work: finding the shortest path between what you want to say or express and its ultimate reproduction in the finished image. The struggle for simplicity is the painful search for a form adequate to the truth you have grasped.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimePeople have often asked me what the Zone is, and what it symbolises, and have put forward wild conjectures on the subject. I’m reduced to a state of fury and despair by such questions. The Zone doesn’t symbolise anything, any more than anything else does in my films: the zone is a zone, it’s life, and as he makes his way across it a man may break down or he may come through. Whether he comes through or not depends on his own self-respect, and his capacity to distinguish between what matters and what is merely passing.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeSome sort of pressure must exist; the artist exists because the world is not perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn’t look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world.
Andrei TarkovskyModern mass culture, aimed at the ‘consumer’, the civilisation of prosthetics, is crippling people’s souls, setting up barriers between man and the crucial questions of his existence, his consciousness of himself as a spiritual being.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeWe can express our feelings regarding the world around us either by poetic or by descriptive means. I prefer to express myself metaphorically. Let me stress: metaphorically, not symbolically. A symbol contains within itself a definite meaning, certain intellectual formula, while metaphor is an image. An image possessing the same distinguishing features as the world it represents. An image — as opposed to a symbol — is indefinite in meaning. One cannot speak of the infinite world by applying tools that are definite and finite. We can analyse the formula that constitutes a symbol, while metaphor is a being-within-itself, it’s a monomial. It falls apart at any attempt of touching it.
Andrei TarkovskyMy objective is to create my own world and these images which we create mean nothing more than the images which they are. We have forgotten how to relate emotionally to art: we treat it like editors, searching in it for that which the artist has supposedly hidden. It is actually much simpler than that, otherwise art would have no meaning. You have to be a child—incidentally children understand my pictures very well, and I haven’t met a serious critic who could stand knee-high to those children. We think that art demands special knowledge; we demand some higher meaning from an author, but the work must act directly on our hearts or it has no meaning at all.
Andrei TarkovskyNever try to convey your idea to the audience – it is a thankless and senseless task. Show them life, and they’ll find within themselves the means to assess and appreciate it.
Andrei TarkovskyThe beautiful is hidden from the eyes of those who are not searching for the truth, for whom it is contra-indicated. But the profound lack of spirituality of those people who see art and condemn it, the fact that they are neither willing nor ready to consider the meaning and aim of their existence in any higher sense, is often masked by the vulgarly simplistic cry, ‘I don’t like it!’, ‘It’s boring!’ It is not a point that one can argue; but it like the utterance of a man born blind who is being told about a rainbow. He simply remains deaf to the pain undergone by the artist in order to share with others the truth he has reached.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeArt is a meta-language, with the help of which people try to communicate with one another; to impart information about themselves and assimilate the experience of others. Again, this has not to do with practical advantage but with realising the idea of love, the meaning of which is in sacrifice: the very antithesis of pragmatism. I simply cannot believe that an artist can ever work only for the sake of ‘self-expression.’ Self-expression if meaningless unless it meets with a response. For the sake of creating a spiritual bond with others it can only be an agonising process, one that involves no practical gain: ultimately it is an act of sacrifice. But surely it cannot be worth the effort merely for the sake of hearing one’s own echo?
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeA work becomes dated as a result of the conscious effort to be expressive and contemporary; these are not things to be achieved: they have to be in you. In those arts which count their existence in tens of centuries the artist sees himself, naturally and without question, as more than narrator or interpreter: above all he is an individual who has decided to formulate for others, with complete sincerity, his truth about the world…
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeDespite the fact that God lives in every soul, that every soul has the capacity to accumulate what is eternal and good, as a mass people can do nothing but destroy. For they have come together not in the name of an ideal, but simply for the sake of a material notion.
Andrei TarkovskyFinally, I would enjoin the reader—confiding in him utterly—to believe that the one thing that mankind has ever created in a spirit of self-surrender is the artistic image. Perhaps the meaning of all human activity lies in artistic consciousness, in the pointless and selfless creative act? Perhaps our capacity to create is evidence that we ourselves were created in the image and likeness of God?
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeThis is the law of life, its real meaning, that we cannot impose our experience on other people, or force them to feel suggested emotions. Only through personal experience do we understand life.
Andrei TarkovskyTrue artistic inspiration is always a torment for the artist, almost to the point of endangering his life. Its realisation is tantamount to a physical feat.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in TimeHow strangely people live. They seem to be in command of the situation and they do not understand that they have been given the chance of living and actually using the opportunity to be free. Everything in this life is terrible, apart from the freedom of will that we possess.
Andrei TarkovskyIt is obvious that art cannot teach anyone anything, since in four thousand years humanity has learnt nothing at all. We should long ago have become angels had we been capable of paying attention to the experience of art, and allowing ourselves to be changed in accordance with the ideals it expresses. Art only has the capacity, through shock and catharsis, to make the human soul receptive to good. It’s ridiculous to imagine that people can be taught to be good…Art can only give food – a jolt – the occasion – for psychical experience.
I have been waiting for this moment for 25 years. Today by evening time, as I get up on stilts, transiting Uranus will be ‘to the minute’ opposite my natal exact Uranus/Sun conjunction in the first house. It will still be pretty much exact to the minute for the next few days after. Meanwhile Neptune hangs out very close to my natal moon in Aries, ( and squaring natal mars)…..and transiting moon will oppose natal mars in Sagittarius ( which conjunction to natal Neptune.)
If you know, you know.
I feel like I’m plugged into a quantum computer, the fiery electropromethean lightening running through all my nervous system, reWiring the neural circuitry…..
Synaptic Rapture
Death to the old form birth to the new
For a long while now just trying to ground into the earth and ride the wave Not blow the fuses Not go supernova and rise into Mania As I’m predisposed to do Before the reTurn of the wheel drags its heels And descent into the dark leaden fields Of Saturn comes again
The Daimons Embrace In Leather And Lace …:.trickster plays games And holds Space at the Gates
“When we dance, we wake up, we get down and juicy with ourselves, we have fun and forget all the heavy shit we carry around. In the dance we get real, get free, get over ourselves. Movement kicks ass. When you truly surrender to your own rhythm, you look so cool, so mysterious, so seductive— the way you deep down really want to look but don’t trust that you do.”
Gabrielle Roth, Connections: The Threads of Intuitive Wisdom
I will not jump on any bandwagon, I will watch the masses fight for their seat, I will not join any crowd, I will walk in the other direction, I will not be swayed by programmed emotional manipulations, I will calmly observe, I will not participate in the distorted ritual of the modern ‘mating game’, I will create create create from the sanctity of my sovereign Space, I will not groom a socially appropriate false-persona, I will crawl thru the humus of my Self and keep The scars of initiation visible, I will not polarize into This not That no matter how much the architects of control try to force feed me, I will lucidly reflect, I will not deny the heaviness and trauma of the ancestral memories Within my matrix, I will dance with them til they are Free, I will not be contained, i will not be restrained, I will not be tamed,I will not be shamed, I will burn in the flames of my own alchemical vessel and burn away the dross, Only the pure can love , only the pure can Know
Every Cell in your body is a self in your own creations, all in one expression. What is the health of yourCellves? Does your distorted EgoSystem keep yourCellves in chronic fear, toxicity, denial, and degradation? Or do you treat your Body and yourCellves with respect, compassion, honesty, and wholeness?
Do you point fingers at the world in accusation and defense and emotional perturburance, all while denying your own Cellves their authentic expression within your EgoSystem?
The aesthetic finish calls up an image of genteel elders passing serenely away. This is not at all what I mean by “aesthetics.” The word roots itself in a gasp (aisthou), a sudden short intake of breath in the face of wonder, or horror. Aesthetics begins in the startle of surprise, the breath caught, held in astonishment. Aesthetics arises from an epiphanic image, the full force of character revealed as in a work of art.
Can a person become an epiphany?
Can we entertain the idea that all along our earthly life has been phenomenal, a showing, a presentation? Can we imagine that at the essence of human being is an insistence upon being witnessed–by others, by gods, by the cosmos itself….and that the inner force of character cannot be concealed from this display. The image will out, and the last years put the final finish to the image.
It is then only natural that we become more like apparitions, already sepulchral effigies, stand-ins for ancestors. Visits to us become ceremonies; gifts, offerings; conversations, liturgical repetitions. We are left as traces, lasting in our very thinness like the scarcely visible lines on a Chinese silkscreen, microlayers of pigment and carbon, which can yet portray the substantial pro- fundities of a face. Lasting no longer than a little melody, a unique composition of disharmonious notes, yet echoing long after we are gone. This is the thinness of our aesthetic reality, this old, very dear image that is left and lasts.
James Hillman, the Force of Character and the lasting life
BlissNinja 