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Listen Hear

7/1/2018

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So I am sitting in the cafe working on a new poem.

And two ladies walk in and shuffle around with the waiter in tow, trying to decide on their destination table. They chose one close to mine, just a metre away.

It’s always interesting how the proximity to others will effect or not effect my writing flow.

Sometimes, I purposely don’t look at people, not more than a passing glance as they approach perhaps, so that I don’t have a detailed visual of them and thus can find it easier not to be distracted by them.

But sometimes, a certain voice, certain conversation - either it’s dynamic or content - will be hard for me to completely ignore.

A part of my brain analyses what I hear, the nuances, the emotions in the voices, the dynamic of the interplay between the players.

In this case, right now, these two are not overly distracting. They are reasonably somber and self contained. Some people do a bit of showing off in public - which I find irksome - others are more relaxed, discrete.

What I did notice though - without so much listening to the content of their words - was the ebb and flow of the conversation - the way that they each influenced each other’s mood and response.

It made me realise how any pairing of two people is going to be so completely different, depending on the individual energies. And how, if you were making a film, for example, the chemistry of the two players is so crucial. I suddenly realised just how much difference it makes. In the direction of the interchange, the dramatic levels, the mood.

They are talking a little softer now and with a more flowing to and fro.

Wait. No. One has gone silent for a while.

I like that. Means they are reasonably comfortable with each other. I can detect forced conversations and they are not rhythmically as pleasant. The slight unease is palpable.

I am not listening to. the actual sentences being said, their voices are of a reasonably low register, so it is almost a hum I am hearing.

I think it may be mother and daughter. I am not going to look. Sixty/forty it is, though. That kind of dynamic. One voice is definitely younger, the other offering advice like suggestions, it seems.

Other sounds I can hear are the traffic outside the window behind me, a low volume pop song from the far corner of the room, the shuffling of the sous chefs at the bench to my left, an occasional ‘bing’ from the bell when a dish is ready.

Some random snippets of conversation coming from people passing by outside. Cutlery crunches. The low hum of a bus engine. The clamouring lid of a large pot. The scrape of a wooden chair leg on the concrete. The tap of the espresso handle from the barristers corner. Plates ringing as they are stacked. Another chair is pushed along the floor, this time more vehemently. A small motorbike passes by, then another.

I have been studying music production for the last year and a half now, so I realise that I have been training my self to listen with more acuity. To accurately pick out select sounds and frequencies and to pay attention to them. This is part of what I do when making a song.

I just finished a new one today. It’s not mixed yet, but the main body is there. I like it. I like most of my new songs immediately after they are done. Generally speaking your latest is your favourite. Not always, though. Sometimes you will luck out and make a really beauty that stays at the top of the list for three, four, five songs forward.

I haven’t written much in these journal entries about my musical production. In some ways this is because it is so special to me. It’s a whole new area, a completely new domain for me to learn about and explore, create in. So I have kept it kind of sacred, been silent about it, not wanting to quantify or examine it because it is still precious and fresh. I haven’t wanted to dissect or discuss the process - just to get on with it and into it.

But now, after having finished probably fifty or sixty original tunes, I finally feel ready to release three or four into the world - make my debut as a musical artist.

I can listen to them and feel happy with them, that they represent who I am. I have by no means mastered the art of song production but I have found my own way through it to the point where the sounds that I am selecting, refining and juxtaposing into a coherent piece are an authentic representation of my feelings, my head space.

Through a mixture of dedication and focus, daily application and experimentation, I have found my groove, eased into a style that is uniquely mine, a sound that pleases me in it’s inventiveness and it’s sonic signature. And there is a coherence in the most recent pieces, the ones that I will release, that unites them harmoniously, even though they are individual tunes. This is a good thing, what I have been patiently aiming to achieve.

So, I am now almost at the first level of being a music producer. My first representational works are nearing release. It is exciting.

They won’t change the world. My expectations are realistic and humble. For me, the greatest pleasure is in the production itself. What happens with them, where they go and how they interact with the outside world is not up to me and quite honestly, is not my concern. I have been an artist and a writer of prolific output for four decades now and have yet to have even drawn the average of a standard wage from my creations if you add up my time spent and materials outlay. Whatever early fantasies I had of making money, or even a basic living from my art output, have dissipated completely. I am not being defeatist, just realistic. Self promotion has never been my strong suit. I like to just get on with making new things. It is likely, I could have been more financially successful if I had put the time in to translating my stuff into money, but it is not in my nature. So be it. So, I hardly expect any dollars flowing in from songs - not at any stage. And I am totally cool with it.

I am dedicated to creating new stuff. That’s what I do. Everyday. It’s what I am good at.

The ladies are still here, chatting away. They are slightly more animated now, aloft with their second caffeine shots.

I completely zoned out of them for a while there, when writing this. That’s what happens. That’s what I like about writing, making art, making music. That detachment, that immersion.

The blissful escape, the transcendence. Worth far, far, far more than money. ​
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Surrender To Your Soul

2/4/2017

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I have an idea
I have a thought
I have certain feelings
That could never be bought

I can imagine
I can mind bend
Create unique concepts
That help me transcend

Everyday life
Is one thing
But don't be limited to that
Let your thoughts come alive
Mould your own habitats

I say to you
Like I would've said to myself
When I was younger
If I could have

I say to you
You are born full of treasure
Full access is yours
Limitless, amazing realms to discover
As your life gently occurs

They teach you all kinds of things 
On the outside
Tools they believe you will need 
As some of it is useful
To help you to grow and to succeed

But the best stuff
My dear friends
Nobody else can ever reveal
It resides deep inside you
A gold mine
Boundless in vitality and value

How to access?
Well, that is for you to figure out
But the most important thing is first 
To trust, to believe in yourself
Not to doubt

Heed what I am saying
For over a long life 
I have discovered 
Innate wisdom
A fine kingdom
Far beyond crude limitations of 
Categories and egoism
Far beyond learnt narrations of 
Simple glories and competition
Beyond everyday callings
Real world obligations
Physical longings
Daily frustrations

I'm talking 
A whole new paradigm
The infinite, soulful magic 
That awaits to be born from your mind

It is there
It is yours
To uncover and to find

So seek, search, strive
To satiate your hunger
For something bigger, greater, truer
More pure, better designed
No matter how obscure it may seem
Don't mind
The most amazing thing you will ever know
Is the magnificence of your authentic light

And the ironic truth is
That finding your way through the blackest darkness
Is the way that you will find it
So fear not 
And forge forward

Trust, seek, surrender
To your soul
And where it leads







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smalltown/bigmind

20/3/2016

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I just had a vegie pizza (with anchovies and pineapple) at the local, old school pizza joint. They mostly do take away but there are two short bench tables up front and one or two small round tables up the back. It's so not trying hard that it's charm is irresistible. And the pizzas are made by an Aussie maestro. Prices are fair (this is starting to sound like an ad!) and they've got Chinotto - a deal clincher for me.

I get the medium and I leave two pieces. That is just the right amount. One extra piece and it's too much. Two extras and I feel heavy. Working out that this is the ideal size and amount took a bit of trial and error.

Anyway, driving home (it was 8:06 on the dash), I reversed out of the spot right in front and drove home, approximately 6 minutes away, through the centre of town. It's a Sunday. Along the way, I saw a total of three other cars. No people.

That is the first thing I like about living in this little town. (Population 3K and change). The second thing is that there are no traffic lights. None. There's one roundabout - but it never gets too busy.

The third thing... and I haven't planned this out, I am just going with the flow... is...

Meh! Do I really want to talk about living in a small town? Nah. I mean, it really is good. Not stressful, friendly, accessible.... etc. But I don't feel like writing a list or even thinking about it anymore. So, I'm going to change topics. 

I had a nap a little while ago. And after I woke up I thought about how refreshing it is to break the mind continuum by throwing in a sleep. During a day, you have to keep track of things, you have to deal with realities, schedules, other people, driving, weather conditions, communications... And it can be a little wearing. It requires concentration. That's fine but at a certain point, sometimes, you just want to opt out. And what a wonderful way snoozing is to do so. It's like floating. Your cares and concerns drift away, you can shut down for a time. Refresh. Seriously, I'm a great advocate.

I do believe that I have a naturally busy mind. Not only do I pay close attention to my surroundings and events, nuances and formulate thoughts and opinions from them, but I also am constantly thinking up new ideas for creative projects: stories, songs, books, movies, plays. On top of that, I tend to regularly observe my own thought patterns and tendencies and speculate on them, assess them and note them. I step back and look in from the outside. Why? Because it's interesting and it's something I have always done. It's like being a scientist of sorts, unpaid and unheralded, one who's job is to investigate the mind of himself. It can get quite wild, murky, disturbing at times. But it is something I have always done, so I am reasonably comfortable with it. And I learn things. I adapt. 

It is not foolproof, of course, and there have been times when I have spiralled. This tells me that I am fallible. And that, also, I am not fully in control. Even of myself. Sometimes, I just try and ride the wild horse. I just have to hang on.

This is true less and less. The older I get the more tame my mind has become. Or is it just more familiar. Are we old friends now. Does it care for me?

The interior life, eh! Some of you will be able to relate. And outsider will observe a person sitting in silence. But, oh, the goings on inside! My god! 

This is why I am so grateful for creativity. It is an outlet, a focus. It gives me a form in which to channel much of this electric, pulsing energy. Because we are so much more than just our basic entities. We are mini-universes, each of us. And yet, to the outside world, we present such cultivated tiny packages. 

In some ways, I guess, as a species, we are just now learning to open up more, be more expressive, more exorbitant, more truly representative of our complex souls. There is no need to hold back, to cloak, to disguise or restrain. We're all from the same crazy source. We're all facets of the one. The more of ourselves we release - the more it encourages others. And on and on. We can grow together, be free together. Release ourselves and each other. 

Not just us small town dwellers... but everyone!! 
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Consciousness Tracker

6/2/2016

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Lately I have become aware of the importance of writing only things of substance. My pieces, I have recently decided, need to have merit. If they are going to exist, be created, and read, then they need to be worth the time. This doesn't mean they have to be exclusively serious, it just means that I don't wish to waste any one's time.

Once you begin reading something, you usually commit the energy and time to stick with it. You are searching for something. When you read the headline or the title, the opening paragraph, you are deciding whether or not to proceed with the piece. Will I find nourishment? Will I learn something new? Is there information here that will advance my understanding of the subject? Or, even, will I be distracted in a pleasurable way, entertained?

We are not in fucking school anymore. Nobody is making us read anything. (And curse them for doing so back then!) We read what we want to read. We don't want to waste time with fluff or bullshit, lies, misinformation, tackiness, didactic trash. We want to be educated, uplifted, fostered, cultivated by the stream and tiny black symbol clusters. We want to be transformed, even just incrementally. Ideally we want a little bit of magic.

And words can be magic. It's one of those things. I think the word I am looking for is; ethereal. 

We may not even be quite sure what we are seeking before we begin to read something. We just know that we'll know when we find it. We become like detectives, sifting through the evidence in front of us, searching for clues that will add up to a reasonable deduction. We want to crack the case and the case is life itself. Cause, face it, we are actively living in and fully engaged in an ongoing mystery. One that is yet to be solved. Who knows what we could stumble upon in our investigations - through reading, or writing for that matter.

Writers are adventurers. Leaders, mostly solo, the advance party, trackers. We are curious, we like to analyse, build, invent. We work with concept. We are fuelled by imagination. Often we enamoured by the musicality of words and phrases. We ride the sets of thoughts like a surfer does the waves. The more practiced and adept we get, the bigger the surf we take on. Unlike the physical realm, there is no fear involved. Nobody ever got injured writing down their thoughts. But it is about confidence. The more we write, the more we are able to attempt with the next one. We get bored with what we have done, said, thought and written already. We seek new horizons. Not always new, though, sometimes it's the familiar that holds the secret riches. In this case we go deeper. We delve. Nice word: delve.

And the whole time, whatever it is we are doing, writing about, we are rewarded with tasty treats that pop into our heads and are expressed though our hands. Our minds get to reflect their magnificence. Our higher selves are offered an outlet. If we can get out of our own way, we can occasionally tap into the sublime, the wonder, the exquisite soulful limitlessness that resides within us all but is mostly disguised and interrupted by the static of daily living.

In this sense, writing is truly of the most pure pursuits available to us. In tandem with reading, it is an activity that can lift us up out of the ordinary and transport us, offer us a bridge from what is to what could be. We have to return eventually, to our homes in the physical realm, but for the time that we are away, we are liberated, suspended in the divine dimension of unlimited possibility. 

And that is a nice place to be.
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Disposable Incoming

8/7/2015

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It makes sense to feed yourself nourishing, healthy, natural food. The body responds well to it, functions smoothly, grows and repairs from it. There is encouragement from some elements of society and the government to do so but there is an even stronger push - in the form of advertising and marketing from corporate factions - to get people to consume processed edible items that are overloaded with sugars, salts and a variety of toxins (including GMOs) simply for their taste and/or convenience.

We are used to this now, as a species. Many are trapped in a unthinking cycle of buying and consuming foods that don't sprout from nature and are conceived in a factory and dressed with fancy and alluring packaging. It's a modern malaise and has a high cost to the well being of society.

On a parallel track, one less heralded or commented on, is the trajectory of our mental consumption habits. 

There is a huge volume of shrill and sugary distractions being presented to us every day, coming at us from all sides. On the net, TV, radio, magazines, the newspaper... we are bombarded with information and messages - in the form of both news and entertainment - that is the moral equivalent of junk food.

Hard to resist, tasty perhaps for an instant but lacking any substance or value for one's evolution as a sentient being.

It's interesting to look back on your day and what you may have taken in to see how much of it was actually nourishing your soul and how much of it was clogging and clouding your clarity and essence.

Truth is that is imperative that we make an effort to challenge, improve and expand ourselves; intellectually, morally and spiritually. To do this we can only work with what we put in.

Affirmative actions, positive behaviour and healthy interaction with others - any poz interpersonal stuff - is good. So is stuff like meditation, reading books and quiet thinking.

Creative pursuits also rank high. They allow one to get in the zone, touch base with the universal sauce, or source; same diff.

Personally, I get a sweet natural high every day doing my comics and/or writing. It's not always easy but afterwards I feel nourished, a sense of accomplishment. It's my job, I suppose - one with very flexible hours and parameters - plus a decent boss who gives me free reign. 

I'm no saint, though. I squander plenty of time: surfing the net, binge watching my favourite series in the evenings and occasionally leap frogging from one foolish clip to another on You Tube. No one's keeping score. Do what you want. But my advice and the gist of this piece is that it is good to be aware of what is going in to your consciousness. 

Sidestep the avalanche of goo-goo garbage generated by the morally dubious entertainment conglomerates and - like picking fresh herbs from a garden or fruit of a tree - get some wholesome and meaningful content into you and pay attention to your own opinions, insights and intuitions. Consciously develop yourself into someone worth being.

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Retreat

24/5/2015

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I saw that word today and for some reason it struck a chord and  I began to ponder on it.

I have never been on a retreat. I still may, if the opportunity were to arise and feel right, but who knows. I am not partial to schedules - especially those that involve early mornings. I also don't like being expected to participate in things that I don't wish to. I was a stubborn child and strongly resented having to go to school and all it's brutish, senseless demands.

And yet, one day, I may get over it.

Or maybe never.

This is not what I was thinking, though. What I was thinking was about how to go on a retreat is considered a positive, nurturing, possibly life-expanding experience. But not everyone has the luxury to do that. 

The other kind of retreat - and a more fundamental one - is the kind we do on our own. To retreat into ourselves.

It's a function that is a vital part of our mental and spiritual health, survival even.

Innately, we know when we need to pull back, hide away, spend time alone, gather our thoughts, sit with our feelings.

We can do it with nature, with a book, with a movie, on a walk, a run, with music, in a bar, a library, on the couch, in bed.... wherever. 

Sometimes it is painful, sometimes with tears, sadness, hurt, sometimes confusion or anxiety.

But we go away, pull ourselves out... and somehow, with time and patience, come out the other end, ready again to face the world.

To retreat is important - a good thing. It is a mechanism for dealing with the 'too-much-nes' that comes along sometimes.

Is it not in the moments of retreat that we truly get to know ourselves?

We spend time, we contemplate, we mull things over, we let feelings wash over us, moods blow over, thoughts gather themselves and find some order.

In times of retreat, we are being brave. Brave in a quiet, necessary way. Brave in a very basic human way.

We know who we are, each of us. The world only knows a version. Everyone knows a different version, in fact, based upon their interpretation and connection. 

But we know ourselves. We've been with us from the beginning! And all the way through. How lucky we are to have our higher selves watching over us and protecting our best interests. How lucky we are that we can retreat.

Cause inside us, inside each of us, that's where the real treasures are. When you can accept yourself, see yourself clearly and begin to inhabit your soulful side, beyond the pain and anguish, letting go of the bothersome, old beliefs from the past, when you can sit with yourself in surrender, well, that is something softly, subtly, rather splendid.
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Peace & Love & Soul

21/4/2015

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As I have mentioned before in these posts, I grew up reading copious amounts of comics in the 70's. My brothers and I sought them out and collected them - reading every imaginable title from the DCs and Marvels to the obscure scary comics, war comics and romance comics. 

Sometimes, if I had read every available comic, I would take to reading the letter pages (not that interesting) or other bits and pieces of text - the small print at the bottom of page one for example - or some kind of short story thing - never that interesting, really. Just to pass the time. But if I was passing the time, one way I really enjoyed was gazing at advertisements for posters, stickers or patches - like the one above. 

The tiny artworks were like portals. Each had a message and a sentiment. Spoke of an ideology. Stood for a cause. Symbolised an attitude. I was a kid, I was forming my identity. Solidifying my beliefs. Anything was possible and although I couldn't click on these icons and open them up with a computer, I could with my mind.

When I stumbled across this page on the net this morning, it brought back all kinds of memories. Just like you would learn every song on a favourite album, I recognised ever patch from this advertisement. I had stared at it and studied it so many hundreds of times - selecting my favourites and choosing my top five, top ten, etc. A few times I even thought of sending in for them - but we lived in Tokyo and it seemed too difficult. I did have a favourite jacket at around the age of thirteen that was adorned with some of the patches above and others - most memorably the peace sign and smiley.

There are quite a few good ones out of the thirty six pictured. And they have stood up well with the test of time. Very much a sixties/seventies vibe - but, hey, those were the decades that formed me.

Peace, love, ecology, equality.... all my bag. I grew up listening (over and over) to Sgt Peppers (from the age of six or seven) as well as Cat Stevens, Joan Baez and The Mammas and the Pappas. I revered the peace symbol. I believed in love - loving everyone. I believed in humanity and goodness and compassion. My vision for the world was aligned with the hippies and the revolutionists of the time.

Sadly, it didn't come about. In fact, in many ways the planet is in much, much worse shape now than it was then. At least there was simplicity then. And integrity. The shinning glow and warmth of the candle lit by activists and creatives of the time was not bright enough to illuminate the majority towards enlightenment. Cut to: today's world. Hmmm...
Peace? Love? Soul? More like... Money. Power. Glory.

Being young, too, and impressionable and with a big imagination - I created a vision of a future full of all the good stuff. I had absolutely no idea of the adult world, really, but I believed that surely, people would want to encourage harmony and justice and strive for unity and compassion.

In some ways, I am extremely disappointed. But I can't complain. I have a life. I am here to witness what is unfolding. It was never going to turn out the way I envisioned in my naive and hopeful state. I was a dreamer. And I still am. As are many. It's what keeps us sane. And in attendance. Dreams and hope. 

Never lose hope. We could just be going through a rough patch, after all. In fact, I do believe this to be true. There will be tipping point and higher consciousness will permeate through humanity. Eventually.

Until then, let's stay true to our better selves, our good intentions and our aspirations for creating a world of love and peace. 
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one per

17/12/2014

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Reach
Reach for anything
Reach for what you want

Seek
Seek whatever
Seek your heart's desire

Teach
Teach the curious
So they too may be wise

Give
Give what you can
It'll make you feel richer

Talk
Talk about what you're thinking
We want to know, we need to know

Leap
Leap into the unknown
You won't be hurt, you won't regret

The sky
Is your limitlessness
You may not get there 
On the first jump
But eventually, eventually
You'll be out of sight completely

Completely completed
A compliment to eternity
A snicker from up the back of infinity

Until then
Stay focused
Stay in the sun
Stay close
But travel far

Use your imagination, kid!


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freedom warrior

20/11/2014

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When I don't write something here for more than a week, I feel a little guilty. Like - I'm out there having fun, living the artist's free life; full of inspirations and illuminations - and not bothering to take the time to record and share some of it with other sentient beings who are literate and hungry for obscure tidbits from a small town painter/poet.

Well, truth is life has to be lived. I don't want to pressure myself into feeling that everything needs be set down in cyber stone - and it doesn't. My rule of thumb is that when I am compelled to write something, I will. There's a form of natural selection. Other juicy stuff is recorded, in a way, in my daily artworks and comics.

Anyway, this morning when I woke up I was thinking about how linear the approach to life is by mainstream existers. They are programmed to pursue academic achievements, then work achievements which result in the reward of money. Money is then used to finance a lifestyle and pay for buying things and supporting self and family. It's all a big system that has evolved. The problem is that it is very restricted. Life is so much more that this myopic and blinkered view. Almost all the good bits, the juicy bits, have little or nothing to do with this system of pursuits/rewards.

I thought about my own goals, from an early age, teens - how it has been to achieve mind expansion. Expansion. Exploration of multiple paths into the unknown, sometimes unknowable, in order to absorb a fuller understanding and experience of existence as a human. Contemporary social constructs are meager and distracting. They serve their purpose, sure, like to keep the wheels of everyday reality turning but it serves one to venture further afield in contemplation and interaction in oder to be truly immersed in the human experience.

Mind expansion. The mind is where it all happens. The mind is your tool for consciousness. Your consciousness is the framework through which you experience your existence. It all feeds into and of itself.

There's a lot to be said for not being a mainstream society player. For being a fringe dweller. For being an outsider. There is an immense amount of pressure from society to conform and play the game - overt and subconscious. You are not fully encouraged to let loose and go wild on your own version of reality. You are nudged into becoming a cog. You are more useful to the powers that be as a predictable, steady and obedient part of the machine. 

But to what end? Who are you? Who are we all? What are we doing here? What lies beyond this very narrow set parameter that we exist within? If you don't ask these questions - they will never be answered. 

I am lucky. Although I have very little in the form of material goods, I am able to flitter and flutter to and fro at whim. I am not anchored down. I am a free spirit. A wild man. I live in and for imagination and all it's powers. I am a shaman. An alchemist. I am not limited to this time. To these flimsy artificial barriers all around. I seek to discover truth and insight. I seek answers to questions that have not yet been conceived. I want - for all of us - for all humanity - liberation. I want our souls to be free. And big, bigger. I want more love, more joy, more freedom to pervade. These are my goals. This is what I live for. Not for money. Not for approval. Not to own things.

I live in order to experience whatever fantasmagorical and tripped out ride comes along. To be able to hop on board, drop my hat, laugh with abandon, look to the sky and purr like a cat as I am flung into new directions, concepts, visions and experiences. 

Do I achieve all this on a daily basis. Hell, no. Life is fucking hard, man. All kinds of things try to get me, depress me, limit me - reality demons. But do I give up on my dream? No. Not ever. That is not an option. No matter what the circumstance that surrounds me, I am and will always remain a freedom warrior. I will fight and strive for truth and illumination till the end.

And there is no end.

(Wild laugh)
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self study

11/11/2014

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“Somewhere in the archives of crudest instinct is recorded the truth that it is better to be endangered and free than captive and comfortable.”

Tom Robbins said that. He's a wonderful, joyous, rollicking writer if you are ever interested in a fun and enlightening read. 'Even Cowgirls Get the Blues', 'Still Life With a Woodpecker". From down south USA, wrote his best stuff in the 70's. (What a decade!)

So, I read this quote and it resonated. Yes. Even when I am not writing in this blog, I am thinking about it. I'll get a subject and mull it over in my own mind. (For my personal enjoyment/distraction/development.) Then I will ask - is that something worth writing about? Is it going to shed any light for anyone? Is it something that, if explored in text, may expand, form tributaries, perhaps lead to somewhere interesting and engaging?

Sometimes I am feeling a little blah and I can't be bothered. I let the thoughts come and go. Sometimes I think it's not interesting enough to share. Sometimes I think: meh, what's the point? Really? The internet, the world is full of stuff that people write and have written about internal mechanisms and observations - why crowd it out even more?

That's why this quote kind of got me. Some things - especially truth - need to be released and shared. Who knows the result of their liberation from captivity. Isn't that the whole point of setting something free? You no longer control it. It can run wild. It is no longer yours to have expectations of, influence.

With all the bullshit in the world today, morsels of truth, honesty are a refreshing and enriching change. What is the point of reading all that crap in the papers, the bad news, all those pumped up, vapid articles in mags and on web sites about so-and-so doing this or that scandalous thing? Garbage. 

We are glorious, enlightened, miraculous beings. (At our best.) We deserve to surround ourselves with - as much as possible - things that are lucid, pure, worthwhile, enriching. We need to elevate our consciousness - individually and collectively - to spearhead our way to a more enlightened humanity. 

That is why I write in this blog. A tiny little voice, not practiced or showy, with nothing to promote or sell, no agenda. This is not PR. The is just a simple soul in a big complex, demanding world - like a bird, making a little chirp - before flying off, up into the sky. Back to hovering above the earth, in the clouds of imagination and freedom. A little, melodious, simple, one or two note song from the heart. I know there are other birds around, just like me. And some of them will hear my sound and find comfort.


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abstract in the morning

27/9/2014

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I love the smell of abstract in the morning.

Some days I wake up after exciting, lucid dreams and feel that I am able to see the world slightly differently.

Every day, I make new images and I have done for many years now. Today, I made five new images. The one above was my favourite. It wasn't quite working at first and almost felt like a discard but I kept with it and let it find itself.

When I was finished, I really loved it. I will often like what I create but only maybe really love one in a hundred images. This is one of those. Makes me feel good. 

I want to state - for anyone who doesn't create images, who doesn't know the feeling of painting or drawing, conjuring up a fresh life force with line, colour, shape, composition - that it's a wonderful thing to do. It can bring immense pleasure. You focus, loose yourself, question things, answer things, experiment, take risks, assess and reassess... It's a mind's eye game. It's a connection with the source. 

In the best moments, you become a conduit for pure universal energy. When you have practiced enough, you learn to get out of your own way and let the flow happen. It can be ecstatic and tantalising. Of course, along the way, and still, on some days, it can also be frustrating and hard work. But for me, generally, these day - I'm free rolling, having a grand old time. Art is my jazz. The picture above is my improvised solo from today's jam session.

Yep, it's been proved, once again, as the title say, 'Art gets me high'.


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Fragments

6/8/2014

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Picture
Fragments of memories of experiences long gone
Fading but not forgotten
Fortune's favourite song

Keep pushing that replay button

Did you ride high in the sky that day?
Did you holler with pride, screech with joy?
Was the whole world yours for that moment?
Tell me, was it unreal, did it haphazardly happen?
Your one of a kind, unique and special favourite story?

We all have them stored away safely

Some shouted out in barrooms 
Some still secret between just you and them
A few even made the papers maybe
Some just make you want to go back again

But you don't get second chances
In this showreel, fluttering, fleeting
And no returns, no two time burns
The drums just keep on beating

So move on to new peaks and pinnacles
You haven't finished until the end
Do not be dragged down by the mundane or the clinical
You've got the reputation of your lifetime to defend

Fire up
Loosen out
Grind and grind some more
Chin up
Crush the doubt
Power aid your core

With every thousand new dreams
One true adventure is born
Honour your primitive need
To be ignited, invited, reborn

You are still breathing, aren't you?
Then there is hope, there are chances
For in the end, you want to be there laughing, wild eyed
As your skeleton does it's majestic final dances



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face addict

17/7/2014

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Picture
It's interesting. I have noticed something. Over the past six weeks, I have been spending my art hours doing portraits. No other imagery - just pictures of faces. I have been doing an average of four a day and have done over 160 of them. I have had a period of faces-only before, a few months ago, when I did 80 of them. This time, I wanted to do outdo myself and I have. 

I have always loved drawing faces, starting from when I was twelve or thirteen. I would copy them out of comic books and magazines. They hold so much life and energy. Each one has a personality. There is lots of mood and so many ways you can take a portrait and portray a person.

The thing is, and this is what I have noticed: since only having faces to chose from as my daily output, I have been posting significantly less often on this artgetsmehigh blog. Often I would drag and drop one of my daily artworks and just start writing in response to it - a meditation on something, a poem, a memory... but with the faces, I am not so inclined. They do not encourage me to respond in the same way. 

I do enjoy doing them and looking at them afterwards, as well as seeing them all lined up together, but they do not spark the same response in me that the random pictures do. I'm going to curtail my face marathon soon, I think. Maybe once I hit the 200 mark. Or maybe it's too late and I am too hooked in. 

Addicted to face. 

Addiction has to be faced. 

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know thy selfie

15/6/2014

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Picture
When you take snapshots of yourself and select your favourite - what are you looking for? Are you trying to see/portray yourself for who you are or are you trying to capture/present a version of yourself that most fits your ideal self image?

Makes sense to do the latter, of course. But a selfie is just the cover. What really is important is what's inside the book. And what is equally important is that - this may come as a surprise - that YOU READ THE BOOK.

The book of self. New pages everyday. Some bits you write, others are written for you. All you have to do is record them. Some bits get erased. Some segments are abbreviated. Some are drawn out. 

What is your story, though? 

These days there are lots of book covers being flashed around but there is less and less content being revealed. Why is that? 

There's always so much going on that things like long, intimate conversations with lucid friends, meaningful connections, investments of time and energy in those in need, etc - have become less prevalent. 

Character. Personal morality. Philosophy. Discourse. Ethics.

In this money focused, ambition driven society there is less and less time for these things. Perhaps because the world has become so thick with information (and disinformation), in addition to entertainment and various forms of distraction (facebook, twitter, insta for starters), it is so easy to just drift along on a raft and never have to paddle or pull over to the shore and stake a claim or make a home. We are overwhelmed by complex systems, wheels within wheels; social, political and physical.

The world now takes it's own selfie, every day, every minute, every second. And we are not sure what to think. It is always changing! It's alluring, dangerous, stimulating, confronting, familiar and foreign all at once. Are we part of it? Have things gone beyond the point where one person, any given single entity - with their views, opinions, feelings, thoughts, outlooks - really matters? Is it all too much? Is the river now a tidal wave, a tsunami? Are we all just hanging on and hoping to land somewhere safe?

We take selfies to benignly assert our presence in the modern day. Look! This is me! Having fun, acting cool, being silly, sexy, wild! I exist. I am living the life. Whatever that is, at the moment. Don't ask. Questions make for discomfort. Questions stir things up. Especially questions we avoid asking ourselves. Those ones. The ones we are not sure we are even equipped to answer. Why bother? It's easier to just float along from day to day. Things will work out. 

Thing is - who are you?

Don't you want to get to know yourself? Look at yourself? See what you are made of? Get to know your true essence? 

If you do, you can, and you won't regret it. To find, you must seek. And the answers will only come once the questions are asked. And no one is going to do that for you. Not once you are an adult, anyway. It's your responsibility. In some ways, it's your primary one. To get to know yourself. Beyond what is on the cover. Beyond the presentation. Open the book up. Look inside. There is a world as grand and magical as you can imagine. There are things there that might make you uncomfortable, even fearful. But the truth is there is nothing to be afraid of. It's all you. 

And you, my friend, you're a flawed and complex, sentient being. Just like us all. Do not judge or condemn. Accept and embrace. Discover. Uncover. Allow. Once you can do it for yourself, you'll be able to do it for others. 

What does this mean in real terms - beyond the new age slogans? I don't know. It's different for us all. What I am saying - to myself, really - is that there is a need for more substance, more fibre, grit, integrity. What good is it to simply exist, without allowing your character to grow, to be revealed, to be celebrated in essence? Why not at least try to sort through your shit and dust off your dreams, pick up the book you have neglected and start to make up some stuff that you will proud of one day. Make a story, live a story, that you want to read. It doesn't matter what the fucking cover looks like, it's what's inside that matters. We want laughter and tears and meaningful, wonderful events to occur. Substance. You hear me? 



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it's not what you think

11/6/2014

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Picture
Life.

It's what happens.

I mean, I've been paying attention. Close attention. I've been observing, pondering, recording, analysing, interpreting life since I was a wee tyke. Around the age of nine is when I started asking myself the big questions. Like 'What is this?' 'What are we doing here?' and 'Why?'

I remember one afternoon sitting up on the branches of an orange tree doing just that. No answers were forthcoming but I did eat a lot of oranges.

I remember around that same time marvelling at a neighbourhood girl who was thirteen. Thirteen. Thinking: how? And: will I ever be that mature? Plus, she had a dragster.

This procedure: Life. 

Can't be pinned down. And yet we want to. We need to. We try to give it shape and definition. We need borders and structures and clusters and titles. We attempt to make sense of things. We are by necessity satisfied by whatever we can come up with. Even though it is only temporary and illusory. 

Some people don't question too much. They just get into it. Let the adventure and drama play out around them. Buy into it. Invest themselves. This is a perfectly valid response. What else are you going to do? Sit around all day and try to solve an unsolvable puzzle while in the meantime it all passes you by? Doesn't sound wise. But, but... some of us cannot help but divest from the presentation and take a peek behind the curtains. Leave the comfort of the valley home and trek up that mountain. And the next. And the next. We have metaphysical wanderlust. We are existential nomads. Philosophical renegades. Perpetual travellers. Spiritual scientists. We are drawn to the edges of the accepted realms and driven to stepping that one step, two steps further, beyond the boundries. We need to know. We need to know.

The irony is - there is no rush. All is revealed in it's own time. In many ways it is much, much wiser simply to accept the way things are and enjoy the ride. Life will play itself out regardless of how you perceive, interpret it. Why waste time navel gazing when you could be white water rafting or parachuting out of a hot air balloon?

I took this tack for a while in my earlier years. I tried hang gliding, bungy jumping, scuba diving, long distance running. I spent a year eating only raw nuts, I travelled to distant places, I experimented with LSD, I did stand up comedy, spent time with punk rockers, mental patients, criminals. I got married and divorced. I watched my wife run off with a Japanese Elvis impersonator. I shared intense, fleeting intimacy with girls I met on the beach, in a restaurant, on a bus, on the way to the bathroom. I flew to Paris on love's command after a one night stand in Kings Cross. I was hungry, wild, free spirited. During much of this frantic period I remained slightly detached and philosophical, wrote poetry and recorded my musings, but being hyper involved with reality in a demanding way did lessen the questioning.

But then I slowed down. Gradually. 

Living the simple life in an idyllic country town with a population of three and half thousand, I have returned to my ruminations. Attune to nature, mesmerised by it's beauty, surrounded by more spiritually minded folk, I have a precious commodity to play with. Time. Time to think. Time to take my time. Time to play. Time to waste. But I am paying attention. Looking for clues. I am still an agent of metaphysical aspirations. I want to know. I want to find as much meaning as I can. I have more to reflect upon now. More experience to draw upon in my calculations of esoteric algorithms. I have lived more than half a decade. Surely this must assist in my searching, seeking out.

But it doesn't. Not really. I am still a novice. 

I am still that kid sitting in a tree.

I do still love oranges. So juicy!


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    ART GETS ME HIGH

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    Author & Artist

    Lewie JPD 
    Blog Mission Statement: 

    "I am taking this opportunity to openly and freely express my simple truth in a relaxed, stream of consciousness manner, without self judgment or editing while transcribing and celebrating the process and practice of being an artist.

    My goal is that I will have some fun recording sentiments and thoughts as they come to me, coupled with my recent imagery. As well; to learn something of value and share something that may inspire/offer insight to other artists, creatives and sentient beings."


    Disclaimer: He's high!
    Er, obviously.

    Pass the paint brush!
    *no drugs required

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