Tag: Creativity
Here I Am
Here. Here I am. My first weekend here in this beast of the city. The snow has fallen and encased the new apartment. The maze of the city closes in around me. I’ve left Elysium for an engagement with the edges. To the West the wave of mountains rises against the plain, houses are sprawled across in patchy subdivisions from here all the way to the northern farmlands. The city is always growing, already too big for itself.
Elysium the Beautiful breeds insanity. One loses touch, drifting into the mind of strange paranoias and bizarre scenarios of good and evil. I’m happy to be away from all that nonsense. The secret life of farmers and suburbanites. Iowa, Indiana, Missouri, Everywhere the Word goes out, “I own this, as far as I can imagine. This is mine. No government or people will take it away.” Yet, wildfires rage, with no satisfactory explanation, for we know no history and only want life to be simple.
I have been assured, by those who claim to know, that I am the victim of a strange conspiracy and here I sit in quiet winter solitude, contemplating that possibility. It occurs to me that I’ve been around for too may lifetimes not to be able to smell evil when I encounter it. After all, evil’s really just a mirror of myself, or a part of me anyway. I know it too intimately not to recognize it in others.
There’s plenty of evil in this world, mostly pushed by ambitious hucksters with boring agendas, something about telling us who to fear and who to hate. Then they sell us books and dvd’s and lure us to their online sites where the major promotion is themselves. They are mostly paid very well by the very people they claim are the ‘adversaries,’ those whose interests are served by turning people against one another. They point at the Jews or the Blacks or the Chinese or the ‘Socialists,’ or whoever is leaving those ‘mysterious’ con trails in the heavens, seeding our precious air with their filthy mind control.
Oh shit, I’m just tired of all this. I’ll just walk away from it now, away from these helpless fears, away from useless arguments that ignore history and are only angry frightened screaming into darkness. The people downstairs are my companions, shouting mindlessly at the t.v. while their Broncos win. There is no place to hide from the world here and it’s somehow soothing to be alone, away from anyone that can be trusted.
You once complained about a teabag that was folded beautifully in a paper pyramid – a waste of paper, time and energy! – you said. You only felt compelled to complain. “Where is the ocean,” you said, “Where are the trees?” “Where is the desert?” What is the real question?
When I came to the city I thought that I was leaving a refuge and returning to the edges of the world. I was wrong to think so, to find out that the vast maze of city provides the only real refuge of anonymity. I am totally submerged in the great darkness that’s civilization with all of its pain and glory. Every face that I see is a lie and there is little possibility for truth, only acceptance, abandonment and perhaps some ultimate contentment while surrendering to the oceanic flow.
I don’t know where this life has taken me. I am both pirate and defender of this realm and I bellow from within a font of night jewels. I no longer need your company or your approval and I will do what I must to see us to the end. Your spies and secret sailors, those who reveal all of the hidden plans are useless now. The plan is older than the wind that blows above the deserts and will continue at all costs and we will either serve or fail given our own particular gifts.
Welcome to the new world order.
American Icons
Whenever I’m feeling down on America, particularly in the midst of what sometimes appears to be an absurd or even pointless political season, rather then allowing myself to be overcome by cynicism and bitterness I’ve found a very effective antidote.
Here is a link to one of the finest audio productions available on the internet. The ongoing series is part of writer Kurt Anderson’s Studio 360 broadcast from PRI and WNYC.
If you need reminders of what in our history has made America great, let me introduce you to Studio 360’s, American Icons. Stories on everything familiar, from “I Love Lucy” to “Mad Magazine” to the “Lincoln Memorial” to “Wizard of Oz” and “Buffalo Bill.” How did we become who we are? And who are we?
In Memoriam
On a weekend early in the last crazy decade I met Rafael Bejarano near a water tank up in the northern corner of Colorado. The occasion was a recording session and gathering of musicians, shamans and artists around and inside of what has since become a recording studio and was even then one of the sonic wonders of the world. I listened to him play the didjeridoo along with my friend Michael Stanwood and we sang together and posed with everyone for photos. We were the two ‘Rafaels,’ he like Kokopelli with his didgeridoo and me with my drum and wizard’s staff. I didn’t know him well but I sensed a sweet and caring man. He was a being who carried with him healing and beauty.
Yesterday he was killed along with 11 other tourists in a land torn by war and fear.
In Memoriam.
National Treasure
Listening to a podcast from Poetry Magazine I was turned on to the reproduction of a remarkable artifact. It brings me, in a way that no single book or essay or even film can do, to an encounter with the cultural habitat in which my own particular view (in time and place) of this world was shaped. Like something one would encounter in a book by Ray Bradbury or Lewis Carroll, on turns a corner in an obscure section of the city and happens upon a museum of wonders.
Recreational
There Are Few Forms of Recreation As Entertaining Or Easily Accomplished As Pissing Off The Ideologically Pure.
Revelations
“Write the things you have seen and what is and what will be.”
Mike Doughty is a wizard of words who fronted the group ‘Soul Coughing’, one of my favorite performance entities of the late nineties. This past year he had a vision of the “Book of Revelations”, surely one of the most influential and hallucinatory word epics of all time, as a rock opera.
The performance was sponsored by one of my favorite spoken word podcasts, Kurt Anderson’s Studio 360.
Although I don’t identify primarily as a practicing Christian, this piece reveals to me the power of language in a whole new way.
Here it is, in full.
Painting in Light, Sound, Color and TIME
Are you interested in what distinguishes a great movie from a mediocre one? Movies are so much more than plot or dialogue – they are magical compositions incorporating geometry, sound and color.
This series by Tony Zhou, called “Every Frame a Painting” illuminates many of the compositional factors that distinguish great movie making from the forgettable (“photographs of people talking”, as Hitchcock frames it).
Well worth subscribing to, if you are interested in the art of film.
Some teasers:
This illustrates some of the reasons that I consider Drive to be very close to a ‘perfect’ movie.
Here are two more shorts illustrating elements that distinguish great directors like Martin Scorsese and Akira Kurosawa from lesser ones.
This one one features a movie I watched for the second time this past week (It’s streaming on Netflix), Snowpiercer.
To appreciate movies as paintings in light, sound, color and time is to open one’s eyes to the magic of the frame, which is the true magic of film.
* * * * * * * * * *
“If you want to find pure gold, you must see it through fire.” – Mumonkan
To receive Arclist mailings reply to melcher@nets.com with the word SUBSCRIBE in the Subject.
Feel free to pass this on or post on Facebook (or wherever) by copying the following link.
Other sites of interest:
Save The Tank!
For those of you who read my essay Hearing Voices and would like to have a sense of the actual experience inside the Tank, you can watch a video, listen to sound samples and take part in the current Kickstarter Campaign to Save the Tank for future musical adventures.