Any amateur psychiatrists in the house?
I did this artwork yesterday, then conveniently dreamt I had a horse just this morning. He was big and wild but we got along well and he was very friendly with me. It was in one of those funky dream landscapes, vividly real at the time but on contemplation afterwards, lacking definition. It was in an urban environment and there were plenty of other people with horses. For some reason, he didn't want to come in contact with the other horses, so we went down a big hill.
Any amateur psychiatrists in the house?
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Have you been here?
I wanna go! It must exist somewhere. Does anyone know? It looks familiar, eh? Maybe it was in a dream. The colours are splendid And a mysterious form Perhaps if we pretended We were there That it's our norm... It's inviting, right? Soft and juicy It can't be too far from here... And yet so elusive Within us all, though Resides that deep desire To find these places To climb under the wire And make a run For the distant, The ephemeral, Into the mist We want to escape Everyday existence And return To that we so solemnly Profoundly miss Such a beautiful song. It suddenly came to mind last night, forty years after I first heard it. It reminded me of a girl I shared significant, wonderful feelings with. She really liked this song, too. We heard it together when we were kids, in a department store. Maybe we held hands. I was only twelve at the time but I was beginning to realise emotions like longing and desire were more powerful and ran deeper than I had thought.
This song was so full of feeling and such a strong comment on and mirror of feelings of intimacy that like a magic tune that opens the cave doors that lead to a tunnel that ends up in the candle lit cavern of love itself, it seduced me, made me short of breath, made me aware of a unexplored and expanding part of my own psyche that would blossom over the years to come. The girl remained a friend over the next half a dozen years. We didn't see each other much but stayed in contact. I had a handful of girlfriends and shared some fun times, but none of them captured my heart. Six or seven years later, fate brought us back together and we renewed our friendship and eventually become lovers. It was romantic and enthralling. Time had strengthened the bond and the eventual physical union was inevitable and glorious. It lasted most of a year until I went away for a while and she betrayed me. She begged forgiveness on my return but the damage was done. I had to walk away. Like the reality of being in love and it's eventual demise, there's a haunting sadness to this song. Would I do it all again? Of course. And I did. A few times over the next three decades. But none were ever as sweet or as pure as the first. Nowadays when I lie in bed in the morning or pre-slumber, alone, I will sometimes spontaneously recall profound moments from my past and get up and write them down just like I have this entry. Funny how it goes. From un-initiated, wide-eyed, innocent romantic to world weary, hardened, veteran romantic. Will love be coming back around to disrupt my blissful solitude once again? Perhaps just one final time? Ahhh, we'll see. How I long to be
Back in the mud Splashing around without a care in the world Because I know not of worry Or think much of consequence I live in the moment It's all that I know for sure And even that: so tentative and fleeting A fast ride to nowhere A quick taste of everything A splash and a grab Getting dirty Squealing Running fast as you can Falling over Jumping, leaping Dreaming of flying, longing to fly, to fly Breathing quickly Searching for the next high Immersed in nature Surrounded by fire The passionate and the quick The look of longing Feed me more life Let me taste the new day's adventure I wanna, I wanna Not knowing if it's a dream Or what it could possibly all mean And not really caring Ha ha The last laugh never comes The giggling fits The squeals of laughter Jumping for joy Over a funny animal A festive occasion on it's way A new friend, a new toy Not stopping till you sleep And sleep itself, instant, glorious, nourishing Dreams sometimes But makes no difference If the sun is out You are up and running To the river, to the beach To your friend's house Everything is living And fascination is constant Immersion, involvement Just to be, just to be No schedules, no expectations Show me the mud! And I will play in it Again forever Yesterday on my way back along the shoreline from the Pass to Byron main beach, I stopped and lay flat on my back for a while. After a minute or two I pulled my tank top upwards so that it was covering my face. This served to partially blocked the sun but also create some wonderful rainbow-snowflake like patterns for me to enjoy as I gazed through the semi-see through material to the sky above.
I lay there, thinking, for maybe twenty minutes and as you do when you allow thoughts to come and go at leisure, began to consider the nature of reality and the purpose and complexity of being human. In a way, it was a rather breakthrough session. As the shadowy figures walked past I thought about how each of them has their own mind full of their own thoughts. Each one has a vast, complex story and template for reality that they carry around and add to. Each one has the obligatory animal impulses that drive all humans - to be safe, to eat, to have sex, to belong, to shit, to find pleasure... And the world is full to the brim of these beings. All doing something. All, like sharks, forever moving forwards, doing something, living, re-acting, going somewhere - but never stopping. And everywhere, people are trying to create some sort of control, some feeling of ownership, power. Forming dynamic entities, joining forces, naming things, creating structures and rules, maps, writing treatises, declarations, giving and getting awards and commendations, loving each other, hurting each other... all in the pursuit of some kind of justification for existence. Making up stories called lives that will satisfy the deep, deep inner urge to be heard, seen, understood. But in truth, it's all just make believe. None of it will last. None of it truly means anything at all. It's just a construct. A necessary - and mostly completely convincing one. The truth is though, its just one massive life form, growing, changing, pulsating every moment. There is no way to even remotely come to terms with the scope of it. To fully conceive of the true nature, the true reality is so far beyond our mortal entities that it is laughable. So, what to do? Does it matter? How to respond? What is my mission? I asked myself, my face covered by my tshirt, writhing around on the gorgeous beach, unconstrained, unencumbered. Why do I think so much? Why have I always? what am I striving to comprehend? I want to know! I want to find the answers to my questions about the nature of existence. I want to break through the restraints of everyday living, confines, and become illuminated. Not in a grand sense, nor with any ego, nor in a religious way. I seek this as an adventurer. It's a quest. It is my mission. I have spent much of my life on it. In many ways, everything I do is motivated by it. I want to go to the edge of what is possible - in this time and place - in this particular body - in comprehending the vast, infinite everything. There will be no payoff, no acknowledgement, no final answer, of course. It's a very personal voyage. My spirit, my body, my brain - teamed together on their mission. Others have sports and family and travel and jobs and pleasurable habits and creative pursuits. I have my tshirt pulled over my head and a hungry, hungry mind. It was a breakthrough yesterday. I did, when I came out of my shell and looked around at the wonder of the sea and passing people and the sky and, and, everyhing... I did feel and very basic and strong sense of awe and wonder and appreciation. I had purged myself of personal attachment and mundane thoughts and elevated to a new clarity. A mantra came to me - and I will share it: 'Let it go. Let it happen.' Always on the lookout...
I realise that some of my inner dialogue is with my younger self. From a young age I asked myself countless questions about humanity and the nature of being. From about the age of fourteen onwards my journals are full of musings and wonderings about what it means to be a person and the implications of existence. Much was unanswered, of course. You have to live through life to get a better idea of what it is really about. The irony is that by the time you can come to understand some of the depths and complexities, you are most of the way through it. Much of the boundless and dynamic energy of youth has rescinded and the horizon of unlimited options is much closer and it is obvious that some terrains are inaccessible, some destinations - one's that looked idyllic from a distance perhaps and undesirable. As you look back on paths chosen and where they have lead, you can't help but wonder that if you had known then what you know now... (that old chestnut!) ...and how deceptive free will and easy decisions are. What it actually looks like is an ambling through a more or less pre-destined course. One that leads you to... here. More speculation. More questioning. More soul searching. But now with a soul that has some noticeable wear and tear, interesting texture, an aroma, imprints... One begins, slowly at first, then with greater ease, to accept. To hold briefly then let go. Of everything. Because one has come to realise that all is transient. It's not about what you thought it was at all - it's not about acquiring anything or becoming anything or getting anywhere - it's about moving on. And on. And on.... A brief dream. A brilliant, complex, bittersweet illusion of epic proportions. How could one ever, EVER, conceive of comprehending the infinite, the unknowable. Not. Gonna. Happen. So, you accept the limits of your own tiny place and begin to acknowledge, explore and celebrate the beauty of the vulnerable, impermanent, imperfect, tentative, changeable, ironically humorous entity that you embody. Some of the questions that you asked earlier have by now been answered. But in their place have come a hundred fold more. And each a thousand times bigger. So what to do? Give up? Settle? Stop asking? No. While at once accepting and embracing the glorious absurdity of at all, marvel in the illusion. That complex, challenging reality that appears in front of you each new day is your dream, your construct. You've spent a long time making it to this point. Why not see what comes next? It's never going to be boring, at least. Find the things you need to have and do for your basic well being, surround yourself with warm buffers of emotional resonance (aka human beings), immerse yourself in nature (the more pure the better) and face each day - ready to take it as it comes. Always ready for more pudding. Cause there will be some coming. Eventually. And won't that next bite, that new first one, be sweet? The swirl on the top of your head is the universe.
You are looking out to see what is in. Everything, everything is interconnected. Particles and whispers Ions and imagery Bird calls and river flows A zephyr, your breath Emotions, storms The endless sea Feet in the sand Watching, listening Enveloped by nature One, one, one.... Forever Sometimes, it's hard. Fifty years plus on the planet and what do I have to show for it?
A cold, tiny room w just a mattress on the floor in a share house, a fifteen year old car on the verge of breakdown, $140 in my account to last for 10 days. A storage unit full to the brim of unsold paintings - remnants from my last 20 shows. No wife, no kids. Family far away... I don't know whether I am living in poverty because I am an artist or whether I would be anyway and being an artist is my salvation that allows me to escape/express myself/focus/be dilligent/feel satisfaction with life. Either way, poverty sucks. It has been suggested I get a thing called a job. But this has proven difficult for me at the best of times. I don't like authority. I don't like rules. I don't like time restrictions. In short, I am not the ideal employee. So, I just carry on, year in year out, doing my work, having shows, creating pictures and comics and paintings. Hoping that one day I will fall out of obscurity and uncover a way to make a decent living. I am an outsider, really. I don't belong or function well within the system - specifically the economic system. And, sadly, that is the dominant system of our time. Money rules. Greed prevails. Corruption, cheating. Morality and compassion while high on the list of many is suppressed and disregarded by those with power and money and lust for it. I shrug, I whimper, I sigh. I am relegated to the outskirts. I quietly continue to follow my own truth, my destiny - humble, simple, honest. A constant struggle. And still within it, there are moments of glorious freedom, joy, discovery, laughter and wonder. I interact with nature, people and the unfolding mysteries of each day. I make the most of my time here on planet E, keep my head above water and my face to the sky. The sun is out today. Time for a swim! Earlier this week I did a reasonably long drive, about 900kms, from Sydney to Mullumbimby. I have a pretty basic car; no luxury, no stereo, auto windows or the like. So it was a bare bones driving experience. Just the wheels on the road and my mind and eyes.
A couple of things I observed on the trip are worth noting. 1.) My job was to safely make it from point A to point B. To do this I had to pay proper attention to the coniditions and situations around me. It was very beautiful in some spots and visually a great pleasure to be taking in the wonderful, morphing Australian landscape. I thought about some of the people in global hotspots like Egypt and Syria and thought about how removed I was from those kind of situations - and any other drama unfolding anywhere. My job was simple and confined to limited parameters. I did not have to worry about other dramas - global or personal - because my attention was in demand. It was a reminder of the liberating sensation of travel. The time between your departure place and your destination is reserved for that activity. It's like you have a pass from the everyday issues. It's at once, somehow magically, cathartic and nourishing. 2.) Even though I was giving 100% attention to my driving, a few times I would get on a pleasant or rewarding stream of thought - about a new creative idea/project or a mental recount of a recent series of interesting poker hands - and at the end of the sequence I would realise that ten or twenty or thirty minutes - and 40 or 50kms had gone by. Fully functioning on a couple of levels at once. It reminded me of a few times in my 20's when I used to smoke hashish and drive. Similar. But these days I don't need the drugs. 3.) I don't mind travelling alone. I get on with myself well. I take care of myself and enjoy my own company. This is obviously a good thing. It has always been true to a degree, but now after having done it for many decades, it is even more true and more apparent. There is plenty of world out there to interact with. Having said that, on arrival, I was delighted to see my dearest friends and spend precious and rewarding time together. It's about a healthy balance. I do acknowledge, though, that as an artist, quiet time/alone time is an essential and important aspect to the creative living process. 4.) This trip is not just a visit for me. I am moving from the city to the country. It's a reasonably big change. Before I have resettled, I will have stayed in and moved out of three or four different abodes, some familiar, some new. There has been plenty of box packing, lifting and loading already and more to come. It is a time of change and transition. It is packed with highs and lows. Because you are destabilised and dealing with new surroundings, boundaries and situations, experiences and emotions are heightened. Amongst the turmoil it becomes a little easier to notice one's essence. The un-changing. It is interesting to observe. Life never gets easier. You just get a bit more used to being around the process, challenges and demands of change. We are surrounded by them. But most go unnoticed. Some are microscopic, some are emotions, thoughts, others are everyday things that require re-examination.
What if I told you that if you try hard enough that you can extend your awareness/consciousness? Step one is to be open to it. Step two is to wonder. Ask yourself questions, look closer, think deeper, exercise your imagination without restraint. If you think about it, your entire life has been conjured up anyway. What do you want to do with it once you break free of constraints imposed by family, society, bad experience, bad education. Are you ready to fly? Transpose? Transcend? Don't get distracted by the noisy, superficial touting of modern society. It is flimsy and corrupt. Go within. Discovery your own version, in fact, define your own version of reality. This is your option. It should have been encouraged from the start. But no matter. Begin now. Just by reading this, something will open inside you. You will catch a glimpse of new, conceive a fresh notion, get a feeling of grand and open possibility. Go with it. Go with it. Go far. At times I think there has to be a master plan. The incredible way everything fits to together - the intricate workings of our minds and bodies, the perfect symmetry of nature and the world in general.
Other times I am convinced it's a shambolic fluke. Full of chaos and coincidence, life and death at random and without meaning or result. And then there is a third option - that it is either both of these things at the same time - or neither. I am quite certain whatever the 'answer', it shall not be known to myself or anyone, not ever. For it must be incomprehensible. That is the nature of eternity. And that, in itself, in it's own way, I find somewhat comforting and on occasion, thrilling. Amazing organisms.
We are. A collection of atoms. Out far. Incredible coincidence. We live. Infinite experience. Received. Expanding consciousness. The flow. Everything and nothing. We know. Saturation and surrender. Begins. Eternity remembered. We're skinz. Where have you been, my friend?
In a room, in a house other than your own? On a hill in a dream, standing all alone? Walking down a hallway to take your punishment sweet? In a bar with the business doing meet and greets? Up a tree as a child, hovering above eternity? In a tunnel, an escape, running, tears a burning thee? On a cloud with a clown, telling funny stories? Wrestling with a landlord on the murky floor of incivility? Bloodied and bruised, disabused of the idea That we can choose? Or covered in oil, purring, writhing as hands of a beauty Knead thee to carnal ecstasy? Fasting? Forgetting? Concept jamming? Slicing? Sweating? Social scamming? Do you still know who you are? What you are doing? Does it matter? Above the chatter can you hear me? Can you hear me? Tell me, where have you been, my friend? Dedication. Commitment. Passion.
Mix together. Be consumed. It's easy - after the first 30 years! Devote yourself to expressing your truth and vision through the arts - and whatever else happens in your life, there will always be a reason to live. (This has been an unpaid announcement.) In social terms you may be a povo, but in your heart and mind you will be a king! Carry on, son
Take the next step forward Life is a journey You pay the price When you can afford it Little by little The world opens brightly You'll find yourself one day When you're not grasping tightly Don't be afraid There is no need to fear Trust in yourself And then disappear Into a new dream Let's call it your life Till you wake up tomorrow And dream in the light Carry on, son Your footsteps are soothing And old man is waiting To hear your heart beating Your choices and actions Will dictate your path You'll know all is right If you can cry till you laugh Feel all the love You can while you are living Give, give for good Find things to believe in Do what you know Is proper and right Be the man who inspires One who lives in the light Carry on, son Carry on, son You are doing alright |
ART GETS ME HIGHAuthor & ArtistLewie JPD Archives
September 2019
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