Free

Busy week this week. Here's the lyrics to my latest song from the end of last week.

Free

No more stress.
No more cares.
I am closing the door
and descending the stairs,
and you
could never see me
walking away
so soon.

No more nights.
No more drinks.
No more flashing the lights
to your father in winks.
No me,
and no more tales to
tell to the fool
to be.

Free (for one day)
he thinks he's
free (from today)
but he can't
see he can't be free.

Hello sun.
Morning sky.
I am tasting the day
and it tastes like a pie
of joy.
It's Christmas Eve and
I am a little
boy.

No more wars.
No more schemes.
I've abandoned the chains
that were binding my dreams.
I'm out
and I just want to
run through a field
and shout.

Free (for one day)
he thinks he's
free (from today)
but he can't
see he can't be free.

Pessioptimism

I am a pessioptimist, or an optopessimist. I see the good and bad side in each event (as well as believing in fate; I, at least, have no free will). I've noticed that many artists complain about the lack of money or sales of pictures, but the advantages to poverty may be great for an artist. Even the lack of security and the stress and worry this causes may be beneficial to an artist's output (although starvation or illness to due extreme poverty is probably a bad thing, there is a threshold somewhere). Still, a low budget forces an artist to avoid wasting time and wasting paint, it also forces an artist to work a lot. The freedom of being able to paint what one wants and when is a huge advantage, the option of being made to paint what someone else wants in exchange for money is usually more unpleasant. Not selling pictures allows complete creative freedom, and there is no position to fall from and nothing to lose. If van Gogh had sold his first few pictures and become a commercial success before 1889, would his sunflowers or Arles landscapes have ever been painted? I suspect he would have still committed suicide, but in Paris and with half the number of paintings he ended up painting.

Mnemonic

This won't make sense to anyone but me but I want to remember this, so:
1. Roman villa. Narcissus. Open cellar or bedroom? I still dream of organon. Mystic. Mosaic of the empire. Seuth sayer. Birth & beginnings. Hope & innocence. Survival & stability. Foundation and civilisation.
2. Bathroom. Narcissus in upstairs room. Sterility. Cold technology and money.
3. On a ship in a storm. Watchman: All is well then rings bell. Society. Trouble. Lack of resources.
4. Dust blown graveyard. With monster truck robots. Power, strong and weak and the growth of greatness. Strength. Biological destruction. Eco death. Weapons.
5. Garden on the ceiling. See Narcissus. Observation & update. Future wisdom and foresight with hope.
6. In a rocket looking down on Earth, grey ponds, flower. Freedom. Escape and salvation.

New Music

I'm back in music mode for a few days and have finished a couple of tunes for my next synth album which will be about nature and include some tracks from the Four Seasons of Dance. I've just submitted Animalia to iTunes and a few other digital downloads services. It'll take a few months to appear and I don't suppose anyone will even find it but at worst it will be useful as a test of the process. I've now got three music projects on the go; two albums of songs with Steven (should we decide on a band name?) and the synth one which has five(ish) completed tracks and is probably my best music so far.

The Physical Dynamics of a Football Player

I've been painting all week on the picture for the "Finding van Gogh" competition but now the second layer is complete. The picture is called The Physical Dynamics of a Football Player and is a representation of a strike on goal. The eye of Apollo as an orange in a violet stormy sky gazes upon a player who materialises, like Adam, but from fire not earth. The player pounces and kicks the ball, then fades away. The picture is full of energy and speed. I was hit by a virus on Monday (a flu-like one not a computer one) but the painting wasn't adversely affected, as it wasn't on Sunday with the discovery of a new cocktail made from 5 parts Pepsi, 1 part vodka, 1 part rose petal syrup that is an excellent way to stay awake for many hours or days. I had time yesterday to add a new links feature to Bytten and fix the email problems there. This week's two songs are pending so I'll get to work on those tomorrow, continue production work on an older one called You Make Me Happy.

Do You Know How God Feels

My latest song.

Do You Know How God Feels

As you pray
in your cell
do you know how God feels?
Faith can be hell
when you know how God feels.
Light can be dark.
Days can be empty.
Stop asking so,
you do not want to know.

As your feet
turn the mill
do you know how God feels?
Pray as you kill
to find out how God feels.
Deceive yourself,
hold out for justice.
Stop asking so,
you do not want to know.

Cards

The future king stabbed himself in the head.

Standing in the Rain

I spent today producing a good 2004 song called One Day, and one called Coma (which I sing). I want to enter both in song writing competitions this year. Off to London tomorrow, and on Saturday I'm tracing a new version of my Liza Minnelli portrait so I can start painting it on the 29th. My latest song is below, it's an unusual ascending and descending chord arrangement that makes the song sound like waiting, every bit as much as today's One Day sounds like the race-against-time that it is.

Standing in the Rain

He said
he will not wait for her,
but he still stands there
in the light.

Cars hiss
and people float on by,
like time they fly past
in the night.

Standing in the rain,
underneath the light cone.
Looking at the shops,
thinking of the moment
when he saw her face
underneath that light cone
round about this place,
beautiful and lonely.

He might
be angry when she shows
but he won't mean it,
she won't mind.

He waits
and watches time fall by,
October rain fall
cool and fine.

Where could she have gone?
Is there something wrong there?
Then across the street
his and her eyes search then
meet.