Sunday, November 22, 2015
"put wings not on your dreams but on your reality"
photography by Richard Schemmerer
Future self or
I had a brief encounter with myself or I am-revolution or shots in the dark
I am indulging in “annoyances and other tools for growth & comfort”
I hope that I am not to annoying at least I can hope but I sense a sense of sensibility that makes sense to my senses because I am the void that contains all possibilities I mean I found endless pleasure in myself like a river of quotes that float on past philosophies to stream back and forth between my conscious and my subconscious. Don’t think I am philosopher just because I can quote but because I try very hard to wring my brain for nuggets of truth valuable to the contemporary thinker so he can wring them one more time to find his own truth. I have a future vision that drives me no matter what and I know that to elevate the discourse I have to elevate the platform I am operating from. The same elements that I find in the future I find in the past and that can be a good thing if it’s the right elements and a bad thing if terrible habits are transferred on. I found thoughts I should have had yesterday still lingering in myself looking for the light of the day to be implemented. I found thoughts I should have had myself by watching others doing already what I had promised to myself.
How much does it cost to be happy, how many lollypops does it take until I am satisfied. I am undertaking a study a research into my own being that one that was created though formal training societal pleasure and self inflicted self help self defense psychologies.
I dance because I don’t understand the Universe and because I am also a good guesser I guess at least as good as anyone I know. I am looking for a mosh pit to unleash my urban warrior to awaken my most basic instincts where I uncross my legs and let it all hang out.
Buddhism doesn’t interest me because it claims that we live in suffering, live to suffer. I don’t claim to have divine authority but I think life is as natural as it gets; nobody has to die for me to save me and I am not into promises of heavenly virgins either. I am just revolving around some thoughts people have thought up for the last couple of thousands of years. I am an idea, a complex one that has a body to its disposal to experience what’s possible on Earth.
After that I am going to be without a physical body but will live on in the memory of others until I am forgotten but maybe my writing or art work will spark interest and that spark will create a new fire.
I might even come back as a second chance, a second edition or a sequel, as block buster, a foot note or just an afterthought. I am the beginning, the patter that was broken to allow space to reconfirm its need for expression in new diverse forms.
I am busting my nuts to come up with alternatives to capitalistic power structures but the circumstances are not in my favor and karma seems like has closed its doors behind me and all I have left is the option, the potential to buy more of the same. There is no way either to buy my way out of it.
I can’t be surprised anymore because I played the game one too many times.
But life never looked more promising you might argue, the rich have never been richer and the powerful never had more ultimate power to influence all of us on planet Earth. It is good to be on top better than ever I agree but what do you look down at?
I am the revolution revolving around myself trapped with my memories and I am the salve to my knowledge. Part of me has been tamed and other parts have been turned into a beast one consuming the other. There are no winners in my house of soul.
I have not abandoned my free will only rented it out to the highest bidder until the market recovers and it’s time to sell out one more time because the only skills I have is to gamble with my life’s assets and the skill to breath and to smile fear in the face.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Hi please join me at my new blog and my new facebook page to become an identifiable force
to weight in on the issues that are facing all of us today.
Who are we but one people not many races but one species united under the sky of Earth. Sometimes we forget our origin our united blood line coming for our common ancestors. In todays world with various forces at work once more to divide us to be controlled easier we need to strand together and not be radicalized against each other. We are the ones that will be held accountable by future generations just like we held previous generation accountable for standing by doing not more then preserving their own status quo in a misguided attempt thinking that they can live on the heap of others.
Think global love united act in kind and compassionate ways. It is not that difficult. Forget the news that points out the few bad apples. It's the same since eons. Be awake to the miracle life is and to the pleasure we give to each other so freely.
This blog will document the amazingness that is all around us and we forget to focus on while we indulge in media hype. We are not just Paris Beirut New York or Berlin. We are the world we are the problem but we are also the solution. It is in our power to take care and engage with other human beings on a greater substantial level. Our brains are build that if we do good we feel good. So lets give it a try. Go out of your way to hug some one to share a meal with someone to call someone that is beyond your usual comfort zone because how can we be truly comfortable many so may are not. We don't have indulge in blame games whose fault it is or was. Right now all that is need to hold out a hand to reach some ones heart.
Really at this point in history we have nothing to loose anymore but everything to gain by becoming our own savior and in the process save the future of humankind with emphasis on the kind because what kind of humans are we if we don't practice this kindness first hand.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Impressions for the lonely at heart
Impressions are the tit bits we are fed by walking as the living amongst the ghostly remnants of industrialization. We are the witness of time as it deteriorates. Nothing is not influx to use a double negative to give meaning to decay not just physically but also the memorized elements. The images we consume deteriorate after we stop paying attention as if the by gone never existed or only existed to let us glimps our own fragility and temporality. Things are just that things and they are solid to us when we acknowledge their presence but they vanish from our brain-scapes when they are out of view. What we are left with is a reconstruction which we often embellish in retrospect or the opposite dramatize for effect when we retell our stories.
The images below are photo essay of a day in my live that doesn't exist anymore. It doesn't matter when or where it was because this is an endeavor outside human time like a space filled with timelessness. The things you see have changed in appearance and in location and have never had any connection to each other besides being assembled here in cyber space to allow contemplation to take place where usually instant gratification is the norm.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Tide nor time
The magic is in the detail the close up that gives us perspective of the inter connectedness we take for granted but we are busy to constantly to interrupt or to deny. Preston tries to get our attention with these beautiful inks that reveal Nature but don't cheapen it with sentimentality.
Monday, November 16, 2015
Force of Nature
at The Portland Art museum
We are a force of nature elevated by interbreeding with the gods according to myth. We have assumed the role of god on Earth rightfully or not. We carve the planet like a turkey and throw away the carcasses. These photographs reminded me , not that I needed too looking at every parking lot around me, that we have interfered in the natural to such an extend that almost nothing Natural is left. We have become the force to fear.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Beauty lies dead in the street
Crooked question marks in the dry-bulbed faces
like books full of dark poetry
words screamed in silent rage fall into the deaf ear cavities
of a castrated depoliticized mass of humanity
the ugliness of thought eats
at the sculpture of the human rights
greedy blood- judges bellow out
the banality of your home-grown justice
the terrorized youth emerges
as the future assassin
without the shopped inhibition of
modern-artificial idols which supplant
primal survival-tested ideals
the chasm in the linked life strands
the hierarchical family structure fails
alone against all and all with the fixes
re-assignable the liberal man will
be crushed in the meat grinder
of the futility of one idealized world
liberated creation is the illusion
blinded is the vision of Spiritual growth
is hidden in the Holy shadows of fear
spread by dogmatic world-churches
who will look for money for their religion in
minds of the poor ones
the beauty is on the streets of love
the satisfying way leads
along universal forgiveness
in the heart which is open free
to find the solution for the future
of a better humanity on the streets
of the world
Die Schoenheit liegt auf der Strasse
In den Trockenen-Tränen-Gesichter
Sprechen wie Bände voll dunkler Dichtung
Wörter geschrieen mit stummer Wut
Hallen in den tauben Ohrhöhlen
Einer kastrierten entpolitisierten Masse Mensch
Die Hässlichkeit der Gedanken
Frisst an der Skulptur der Menschenrechte
Die gierigen Blut-Richter
Balgen sich in der Banalität
Ihrer selbstgezüchteten Gerechtigkeit
Die terrorisierte Jugend entpuppt sich
Als der zukünftige Attentäter
Neuzeit-Künstliche Idole verdrängen
Die Kluft reißt an den verknüpften Lebenssträngen
Der hierarchischen Familienstruktur
Allein gegen alle und alles das als anderswertig fixiert wird
Der liberale Mensch wird
Zermalmt im Fleischwolf der Sinnlosigkeit
Einer idealisierten wertbefreiten Schöpfung
Die Illusion verblendet die Vision
Spirituelles Wachstum versteckt sich im Heiligen-Schatten
Der Angst verbreitenden dogmatischen Welt-Kirchen
Die Sucht nach Geld wird zur Religion der Minderbemittelten
Die Schönheit liegt auf der Straße der Liebe
Der befriedigende Weg führt entlang universaler Vergebung
Im geöffneten Herzen ist die Lösung zu finden
Für die Zukunft einer verbesserten Menschheit
Saturday, November 7, 2015
the Art Institute of Chicago
Art talks a good story, walks a fine line between genres, between expectations and confusion with a mission to entertain, to enlighten, to amuse but rarely does one artist hits all it's holes. Many times art becomes a trap for minds that are used to logic, to references, to history and with it the judgments of the all knowing wisecrackers that are easily mislead by their egos.
Museums have a role in the art market to introduce us the art that is borderline or outright offensive confusing, degusting or obnoxious. One is inspiring to one is confounding to the next viewer. Again this exhibit checks all the boxes above as if on purpose to expose our own proneness to pull conclusion out of are asses magic hat. There is a lots of dick on display in this spaciously laid out arena.
If you don't read the titles to the art work you could come to the wrong conclusions about what is displayed. If you read the titles you are mislead by the artist to believe that what he a created is racially charged. Without the square footage provided one could think this are left over undressed mannequins from a shopping mall display. This again is not a bad thing at all because it shows that aesthetic is not inherent in the art but in the presentation of it.
I spend an enormous amount observing the art being observed by the visitors. It seemed everybody had an erection for the art even non of the figures sported a stiffy. Then it dawned on me that this was an art Viagra induce erection male and female alike and dangerous to everyone's health because at closer inspection these sculptures are very crude and have nothing of the Eros of the Greek mastery. This was for a selfie enamored society that lacked the knowledge of good taste.
Well my shallow mind was blown away anyhow. Like having paid for art sex. But once I had left the museum I had forgotten the show. The Viagra must have worn off and left me flaccid, deflated and cringe worthy aware that I had cheated myself with a substitute for the real thing.
There is a completely different point of view by Jerry Saltz art writing for Vulture