A new poem, written (as many of my poems are) for one of my latest paintings.
So, It Has Come To This
So, in this dead sea.
Sky red with sunset's end.
Ice floats by the concrete shells,
the empty markers of this hell.
So, in this hot air.
Choked with carbon's green haze.
Smoke on water, flows,
like acid clothes.
Sea sighs.
Fall then lift.
Fish bodies drift and kiss.
Chemical stained beach rocks hiss.
So, it has come to this.
Another new song. This one is swung and a bit like a Madness song. I'd like to record this but it might be tricky for me.
So Many Years Ago
I still see your, green eyes
as I was speaking to you that day.
Back then I felt, nothing.
I feel it now more, forgive me for the pain
my words caused you.
My curse was made
on that day so many years ago
so many years ago.
but that was so many years ago
so many years ago.
Dry tears, I know, but I can't let it go.
What's retrospect, but an
arrow of knowledge, point of regret.
Who could expect, in those days
you were the lesson, I can't forget
I hear me say...
You blink and turn
away-ay so many years ago
so many years ago.
but that was so many years ago
so many years ago.
Dry tears, I know, but I can't let it go.
(solo)
Now I live there, with an
aristocratic romantic air.
I like to think, that I'm
a bit eccentric, or int'resting to meet
but it's a joke.
Inside I'm broke
from that day so many years ago
so many years ago.
but that was so many years ago
so many years ago.
Too long, I know, I did not sense
the wrong I sowed and now I can't let go.
I've been painting all week (my weeks usually start on Friday and end Tuesday) and the main glazing layer of my new Morning Hour painting is now complete. I've also signed two others, So It Has Come To This (is about pollution and is similar to The Flute Player, the football one and other complex ones) and Mary Brian Twenty Years On which is a simple portrait. That makes 3 paintings done in 2008 so far. I'll put them on my website once scanned, which will take until they dry sufficiently.
Meanwhile I've also finished a new track to The Twelve Seasons, the extended version of an old musical idea called The Four Seasons of Dance. This time there is a mix of tracks a moods, around the theme of seasons; three for each. Most of the tracks are done now, only two left to write. This should be my second musical release of 2008, with the new Spiral Staircase due for release on March the first.
I love this song because of the ascending melody (okay, you can't hear that, but the chords climb, a bit like The Beatles' Here There and Everywhere). I had the idea of brainstorming concept albums with simple track list of titles as a way of coming up with song ideas. One album was typically sci-fi and called "Journey to Elsodus IV" and "Space Love" was pencilled in as a track.
Space, Love
Reach up and float to me,
breathe in my space, love
free from your gravity.
See the stars weep in loveless skies.
Breathe in my space, love,
red love in my gold eyes.
(solo)
Kiss me on liquid skin.
Touch me with pure love.
Invite your stone soul in.
See the sun die in frozen skies.
Behold by space, love,
behind my almond eyes.
My first song of 2008, number 318 in total.
The Invisible Man
No parts.
No broken clockwork heart.
No bits of hair to, depart.
That's me.
That gap in the crowd.
A snowflake inside, a cloud.
There's no-one to believe me.
There's nothing left to leave me.
My body is clear as air.
There's no eye that can see me.
I blinked and I was gone.
I woke up to find myself
invisible.
Too bad.
My happy life went sad.
I've turned from obscure, to mad.
I call,
but make no sound at all.
The mirror just shows, the wall.
There's no-one to believe me.
There's nothing left to leave me.
My body is clear as air.
There's no eye that can see me.
I blinked and I was gone.
I woke up to find myself
invisible.
My latest poem; inspired by the thought that birds seem to sing for no reason.
In day of sun, and night of dust,
they raise their voices, and they must
defy the need for food and lust.
The birds sing art, at dawn and dusk.
No food, no love, no sex, no home.
No need, no purpose to exist.
No future, no security.
No tasks to tick upon a list.
In structures made with beaks and wood,
they forsook food, and cursed their blood.
Today in fields of death, and mud,
the birds made song, because they could.
How to Think Like a Surrealist
I used to think that surrealists were a bit mad. The likes of David Lynch, Salvador Dali, Terry Gilliam, Vic Reeves didn't seem exactly normal. Now I think like them, and I know that surrealists are not mad, but do think differently from other people. If surrealists think differently from everyone else you might call this madness, and call surrealism a disease, but if so it is, most probably, a beneficial disease.
What makes surrealism different from other art genres is that it is not a way of painting but a way of life. Surrealism is a way of thinking, a way of being. Once that mental threshold is crossed, which has happened to most people quite accidentally, there is no going back. Connections and patterns that are unseen by ordinary people are suddenly revealed.
Surrealism is a higher way of thinking, the addition of a new thin layer of consciousness that grants the surrealist a vision, and additional control, of his or her mental states. On top of the conscious mind, the subconscious realm of dreams, and the unconscious lies a translucent white veil of mind, a new conscious that can observe and guide the others.
Meaning From The Meaningless
Now, let us observe three crucial lines from The Surrealist Manifesto by André Breton:
The image is a pure creation of the mind.
It cannot be born from a comparison but from a juxtaposition of two more or less distant realities.
The more the relationship between the two juxtaposed realities is distant and true, the stronger the image will be--the greater its emotional power and poetic reality...* (Nord-Sud, March 1918)
When two, seemingly unrelated thing are superposed they create a third mystical meaning. An elephant and a cocktail stick might be connected, but not obviously; connected only in a way that the subconscious mind, and not the conscious intelligence, detects.
The Surrealist Manifesto was written at a time when Freud was grasping for a common language to the subconscious. Dream Dictionaries began to appear at around the time of the First World War, apparent maps to the language of the mind that suggested that dreaming of one thing meant this thing, and dreaming of that meant that. Of course now it seems obvious that such connections are necessarily personal and not universal. The elephant and the cocktail stick might mean nothing to one person, but have a deep meaning for another because of a long forgotten memory or experience. However, some imagery is less personal than others. A fire is universally hot and destructive, and popular cultural references might give meaning to the same thing to millions of people; so it is by no means the case that subconscious imagery is useless to all but the creator; in fact on balance, to people in the same country and culture these unseen connections are probably more universal than personal.
Creation
To create a surreal item it is important, vital, that the subconscious is the sole creator. The method is simple. The words or images will appear in your mind, like magic, when the mood is right. It's a simple matter of ignoring your conscious thoughts, and listening only to your subconscious. Mental control is important. The conscious mind should be limited in its powers as much as possible.
Simple observation of the subconscious, without a subject or predisposition, will result in something as meaningful as a dream. It will probably be a dream. It will probably be about some recent memory or activity. This is not useless, but is undirected, and might have limited scope or even be literally nonsensical to other people. This is one reason why a lot of surrealism appears to be nonsense.
To create art with a definite theme, direction and partial use of the conscious mind is useful. Feel the mood, speak (or visualise) the subject then blank your mind and wait. The words, images or music will appear. To assist, start writing, drawing, playing, and in this trance the result will appear.
That golden method takes training and the right conditions to work however, and even has side effects which may be deemed unpleasant such as having vivid visions or powerful blasts of subconscious thoughts invading ones thoughts at inappropriate times. After time, two thoughts, a conscious and a subconscious interpretation will be present at any one time, resulting in a sort of surrealist schizophrenia.
Randomness And Analysis
There are simpler ways to trick the conscious mind into releasing control. Let's try a surrealist game.
1. Start with word association of objects. Begin with a word or object; a cat for example. Then, without really thinking, think of something like that object. Repeat this a few times; You might have cat, dog, lead, bowl, cup, drink, eat, meat etc.
2. Now do the same; but this time try word disassociation. Starting with one object, each subsequent word or item should be as different from the preceding one as possible. Again, you should avoid thinking or pondering on each word.
3. Then try the same thing but with images or situations instead of words.
Now, different as you think the words in the word disassociation game are you will, upon analysis, find that they are connected. In fact, if you think of any two situations, as unconnected as possible you will find a connection because that connection was formed in your very brain.
When you see that connection you can see the meaning. And when you can see the meaning between two things that at first appeared unconnected, that at first were as unconnected as you could have possibly imagined, then you are thinking like a surrealist.
Since last Saturday I've turned back to music and have been completely re-recording my 2002 concept album, The Spiral Staircase. I've changed musically a lot since 2002 (although it's hard to tell because I've written so little this year) but the album will not change musically (much) because I want to preserve it as it was; this is a replacement not a sequel. The remaster is more about making improvements in the production quality, which was limited in 2002. The Spiral Staircase is an instrumental concept album, sort of like Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells. The story is a fairytale adventure about climbing a spiral staircase inside a tower and encountering different creatures and rooms along the way. The original sold two copies (I'm guessing that this was due to the 4th movement being on The Flatspace Soundtrack). If anyone out there would be interested in buying one of the first editions of the remaster then join my mailing list. I'd like to promote this when it is ready too so if any volunteers want to help then get in touch.
