Rothko & Zen Dancing...
now that i've decided i have some long over-due things i need to take care of in my life, i have been looking for a better reason than simply survival to make the changes i need to make.
of course, i am one of those people who make things just a bit harder on themselves by reading more into everything in life, than need be, for fear of missing something - anything...
so when i started looking for reasons, it was through music (not necessarilly lyrics, but emotions, and sounds, and mental pictures a melody can make... trying to visualise it.) which led to paintings, and colors...
and i met mark rothko. i went through his collection from begining to end; his suicide. i watched the faces on his paintings dissapear, and then finally... anything he would see turned into simply textures and contrasting colors. there were no longer people or houses or flowers, or subways in his paintings... just moods that would grow darker and darker as his life progressed (?). all the while, this obvious rejection of the world, and inward digression... desperation without symbolisim (which turns out to be very symbolic...) was quick to be called brilliant art, and ended his life.
should we work to conquer our artistic selves? to control it, and not let it flow wildly? should we learn to contain our artistic selves into a jar we can open, and then close at any moment?
art through solitude is becoming increasingly dangerous to me. i look to other things now... other expressions... collaborations and sharing of art. honest and open sharing.
i find a concept called "zen dancing." ever heard of it? basically - it's a bunch of people in a room who figurativly hold the stick... and release for a moment whatever it is that comes into their minds... a sound... a blurb... anything. which is added to everything else that is going on in the room... this is all documented and then studied.
unscripted art.
so, i was about 17. and one of my closet studio recordings i did... infact the 3rd one i ever did was called "bright as the sun." i wrote 2 songs prior to recording the work. the other 8 songs on the album were recorded as is. walking into the studio and just hitting record without knowing what i was going to do. sounds, and words... all without script. i admittingly went back through the recordings before finalizing the work and deleted some of what i did... added a loop here and there, and some backing vocals...
i remember it as not being so much, good... as rewarding, and an incredible release of emotion. i was just a kid, and had a lot of shit i was working through. ultimately, i wonder if these recordings weren't key to escapisim in my younger life. they have stuck with me, as a place that was good. though i can't remember very much else of what was going on in my life at the time.
so... art. it is not my reason to get up. it is not my survival. it is something i do now, secondary. rather than wanting to ever be called brilliant (any longer...)... some sort of acceptance that i strive for constantly... latley, i just sorta want some peace. a life i wake up to, smiling. rather than not.
"i wanna be ok, too." - jewel. but, then... do we not seal our fates by telling ourselves we are not ok, or that we are not peacefull? by telling ourselves, we deserve this? or telling ourselves we need this?
another song i know says... "all i need is the air that i breathe." but if you listen a second longer you'll hear the singer digress into "and to love you."
it must be intriguing, to say the least to read my blog (apparently, quite a few of you do). to watch myself become just another boy who knows all the answers to his own survival (yes it is a perfect reason to get up...) but pretends as if he doesn't.
for......art? but, then... we arrive where we began... what the hell does "art" mean? and i don't think that one has ever been fully answered. and to be honest, i don't think it ever will.
that in mind, maybe it's seriously time to just get up. i visualise my own life for the past few years as being asleep. prince charming can't do shit for me; mostly because i don't want him too... i layed myself down. i can get myself up.
and that is where my answer is. tick tock...
"...and time can do so much." that's one i can agree with.
of course, i am one of those people who make things just a bit harder on themselves by reading more into everything in life, than need be, for fear of missing something - anything...
so when i started looking for reasons, it was through music (not necessarilly lyrics, but emotions, and sounds, and mental pictures a melody can make... trying to visualise it.) which led to paintings, and colors...
and i met mark rothko. i went through his collection from begining to end; his suicide. i watched the faces on his paintings dissapear, and then finally... anything he would see turned into simply textures and contrasting colors. there were no longer people or houses or flowers, or subways in his paintings... just moods that would grow darker and darker as his life progressed (?). all the while, this obvious rejection of the world, and inward digression... desperation without symbolisim (which turns out to be very symbolic...) was quick to be called brilliant art, and ended his life.
should we work to conquer our artistic selves? to control it, and not let it flow wildly? should we learn to contain our artistic selves into a jar we can open, and then close at any moment?
art through solitude is becoming increasingly dangerous to me. i look to other things now... other expressions... collaborations and sharing of art. honest and open sharing.
i find a concept called "zen dancing." ever heard of it? basically - it's a bunch of people in a room who figurativly hold the stick... and release for a moment whatever it is that comes into their minds... a sound... a blurb... anything. which is added to everything else that is going on in the room... this is all documented and then studied.
unscripted art.
so, i was about 17. and one of my closet studio recordings i did... infact the 3rd one i ever did was called "bright as the sun." i wrote 2 songs prior to recording the work. the other 8 songs on the album were recorded as is. walking into the studio and just hitting record without knowing what i was going to do. sounds, and words... all without script. i admittingly went back through the recordings before finalizing the work and deleted some of what i did... added a loop here and there, and some backing vocals...
i remember it as not being so much, good... as rewarding, and an incredible release of emotion. i was just a kid, and had a lot of shit i was working through. ultimately, i wonder if these recordings weren't key to escapisim in my younger life. they have stuck with me, as a place that was good. though i can't remember very much else of what was going on in my life at the time.
so... art. it is not my reason to get up. it is not my survival. it is something i do now, secondary. rather than wanting to ever be called brilliant (any longer...)... some sort of acceptance that i strive for constantly... latley, i just sorta want some peace. a life i wake up to, smiling. rather than not.
"i wanna be ok, too." - jewel. but, then... do we not seal our fates by telling ourselves we are not ok, or that we are not peacefull? by telling ourselves, we deserve this? or telling ourselves we need this?
another song i know says... "all i need is the air that i breathe." but if you listen a second longer you'll hear the singer digress into "and to love you."
it must be intriguing, to say the least to read my blog (apparently, quite a few of you do). to watch myself become just another boy who knows all the answers to his own survival (yes it is a perfect reason to get up...) but pretends as if he doesn't.
for......art? but, then... we arrive where we began... what the hell does "art" mean? and i don't think that one has ever been fully answered. and to be honest, i don't think it ever will.
that in mind, maybe it's seriously time to just get up. i visualise my own life for the past few years as being asleep. prince charming can't do shit for me; mostly because i don't want him too... i layed myself down. i can get myself up.
and that is where my answer is. tick tock...
"...and time can do so much." that's one i can agree with.
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