Journal Entries
The Order of the Cosmic Orangutan...inactively seeking members forever.
Posted Feb 9, 2007
Then I woke up again..........
Wonder of the strangest things has always embossed my sleep
As every night to bed I creep and slide in close to the loved.
Encased inside my duvet, tightly wrapped,
I drift into a world of time a little out of whack
With the consequence of life .
With her hair in my face, back to belly,
We wriggle in our sheets, a little smelly.
Must slips in to my sleep world and flesh is all there is
Then hair comes from every where and fabric starts to fizz,
I fall through the mattress like an ocean in the void
And land upon the the empty plain of nothingness deployed.
In the quiet I close my imaginary eyes and sleep within sleep,
Resting before the dreams arise
Laying on a blanket by the pond of contemplation,
I’m listening to the whispering of the trees invitation
To loose my self among their leaves in some deep meditation
On the eternal nature of a transitory emotion;
Like the pleasure I feel
When I am distracted by the clean smell
of new evening dew
Mingling with the sweat, sweaty musk
of tree growth that's new.
A delicate haze spirals up from the water
Like tendrils to the pale pink clouds and coerulium sky.
A bougainvillaea bloom of vivid magenta
Is like a small explosion in the sea of greens inside my eye.
Then I notice a black tail attached to something unseen
A big cat tail that evokes curious fears
Tingling down my neck like electric tears.
Whispering in my ears to run.
So i run,
Through a gully
Into the trees,
Into my darkest mind.
I flee with out stopping to wonder what I’d find
or who it was that owned the tail
I just follow the gravity of deep sleep down hill.
Deeper into the dream.
I run and leap and hop
Skipping from tree root to rock
I throw my self at the undergrowth
and fly through the leaves and vines
passing tree ferns that grow in great curving lines
towards an ever evolving sky -
Slipping from day to night, moon to sun
Like a strobe light on overrun.
And then when I stop ...nothing else does,
It keeps flying past with an enormous rushing buzz
No more than a blurry fuzz that gradually starts to shape
Into another world my mind wants to make.
All the rushing trees, the vast forest,
Become the atomic structure of a living land,
where my mind is planned.
This is the place of the honest.
Where the wondering souls of my genetic past
Become tales of my mind as it lives,
Where the janus-headed organiser of self
Continuously consumes my memories,
Then sings them out as a wealth
of emotional galleries,
Giving my soul an ever greater topography,
In which to dream of my truths.
This is the calm expanse of chaos,
Where everything is being and being is proof
Within my temporal skull of a roof,
That life is bigger than me;
That my dreams belong to the universe,
They are not just mine.
I wonder through this ever growing surreality
Across my own landscape of recapitulated life
And enter a door in a black wall with no ceiling or floor.
Walking through a cushion of glowing humidity
I fly into bright, bewildering light
And then, I wake up.
Or at least, I’m in my bed,
With a cat on my chest and a tail in my face
And a thought in my head,
“How strange is this place,
My reality!”.
Something is amis...
It’s too tidy! there’s not enough mess.
I get out of bed and look at the window
I see my reflection in vague sepia shades
But something doesnt make sense,
So i move to the mirror in the hall and find no face
Just a black hole into space full of stars and galaxies.
I put my hand where my nose should be and it streatches into the vacuum of my head
Pulling in my arm,
Elongating my shoulder.
The world shudders and i implode into myself
As the universe in the mirror peels open
and consumes my existence.
I’ve let my mind slip into that late space again!
When every body sleeps but me,
So I think and stare,
Create then compare
With everything I’ve done before;
Recapioiulate, make more.
I’m trying to cross the line
Between the reality of words
And the things i find,
Lurking beneath trees that want to fly,
Deep in the forest of my allready mentioned mind.
Creatures of conectivity -
A complex cooperative
Of nano-cosmic,
Electric chemical,
Cellular,
D.N.A. monkey machines of love and hate;
Cyclical irregularities
That have sexual peculiarities
And love to masturbate;
Quantum drug-bugs,
Fractals within our multi-dimensional
-so vast its unmentionable -
Rushing oneness slug, squid thing!
Intending only to become the begining
When it ends.
The eternal vibration
That mends as it breaks,
Uses death to create
And is ultimately responsible for my mental state.
Not that i am not to blame
For being up so late -
Just that i share it with this universe.
This point in conciousness,
3am in candlelight,
Helps me think
And wonder in delight.
It’s a place where i can concentrate
and try to describe the colours that are the painting of my life.
Using verse and textured words,
Or narrative drawings of the divine and absurd cosmic comic.
I’m trying to describe
The mercurial vibe
That is imbibed
Within a human mind -
In mine;
A process applied
and re-refined from the stuff of chaos,
Till order is fluid
And i can find
The tools to shape a glance
Down the dark streets of my heart
And touch upon the love that made it all start,
The love of this life -
Not entirely free of pain.
This is my mental fight,
To describe it all
Before it consumes me;
before I eat my self from within,
Digested by my own brain like so many dreams on toast!
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Feb 9, 2007
Lux Vita
Posted Feb 9, 2007
How does this sound, does it reak of flower aiding bulls doo doo, or is their truth?
“LUX VITA”
Art is a very old forest growing from the deepest roots of language and expression, a vast and complex ecosystem of ideas and their simulacra.
Dubious of our ability to describe it in words we talk of our aim - the aim of art; in itself it is inspiring or challenging, difficult to grasp, seen through ancient mists of culture and philosophy. It has no clear and singular conclusion, existing within a matrix of ever changing paradigms, it evolves.
Arts purpose, in part, is to arrest the busy mind for a moment of contemplation, to break the deep hypnosis of our distant goals and simply get lost in the momentary vision of form and colour. To pause for a smile or frown. To sigh at a representation of starlight and shadow and be absorbed in the interaction of chaos and the sublime.
Like our life, maybe all life, the real information, the discernible
thought, is in the tonal zone between brightest and darkest, both being forms of the sublime void. We exist in light but are sculpted from the darkness, perhaps.
Then there is the language and symbology of the colours and tones...a dance in form and ground, about the beauty of the lost or seemingly insignificant moment. The minute particulars, like reflections of the world in a dew drop; the beauty of the fleeting moment unnoticed by most; or the morphic recapitulation of those moments in dreams and abstraction.
Mostly its all about the “Lux vita”... The light of life...Our life of light .
Starstuff becomes thought, the thought becomes an idea, the idea becomes art; the self-expression of the universe.
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Feb 9, 2007
ShamIbriham
Researcher U7430076
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