A refuge from the eternal cynic …….

Image result for beach and eternity

An Equation to Persuasion

Numbers are the universal language in the mind of humanity

They are the mathematical principle of our inherent tapestry

In nature designs and  heavenly equations

Rotate endlessly beyond our considerations

Why then do we conjecture about the logic of its proposition

That life is eternal with such antipodal opposition ?

In a universe of distinct and geometric symmetry

Where the laws of movement are governed by natural tyranny

The musical mastery in the octave of a tonal interval

Where two frequencies having a ratio of 2 to 1 are integral

Why then does the meandering minstrel of philosophical bent

Guide us through this hypothesis with an aim to circumvent?

Has a miscast chord aimed from above the celestial sphere

Forced us to reevaluate the reason  we are here

Is it some kind of mistune played on our minds

Focusing on the ancient  written designs

Whose words we ponder with urgent solicitude

Speculating the proof which nurtures disquietude?

All of life resonates the death of its image and likeness of its being

Is a ritual to the perfect harmony of its continual foreseeing

Like a harp from the heavens of an unknown destiny

Playing the tune of mystery mirrors the pain of history

With the force needed to make that leap in time

To take us into the higher octave into another paradigm.

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A Little Revulsion to Be Free

 

1930 - from the top left: Paul Eluard, Jean Arp, Yves Tanguy, Rene ClevelBottom Left: Tristan Tzara, Andre Breton, Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Man Ray

Funny how history has thrown up so many variations of looking at the world. Human kind has never had a shortage of what to think or make of the world.  The Surrealists of the early 20th century are a case in mind.

Surrealism was a movement born out of the remains of madness and terror. After the Great War, the writings of an obscure psychologist in Vienna, Sigmund Freud suddenly seemed relevant. Soldiers had experienced what was called “shell shock” in the early twentieth century to a degree never experienced in the warfare of previous generations. The Great War produced such numbers of afflicted soldiers that no excuses of cowardice or treason, no amount of executions could make vanish the effects of war on the mind. The madness of war lingered and altered the rules of public engagement for so many individuals. It also set the tone for a movement that rejected outright the institutions of a society that allowed so many to die horrible deaths and with apparently little to show for but piles of dead bodies, rubble and wounded spirits.  As a wartime nurse, André Breton had observed the power of the wounded mind over the helpless body and in 1921, he visited Freud to learn more of what the doctor called the “unconscious mind.”

For Freud, dreams were “the royal road to the unconscious,” meaning the mind was capable of communicating at various levels, and perhaps the least of which was the conscious level. The deeper buried layer of the mind “spoke” in codes, whether linguistic or visual, and these clues had to be decoded by the psychologist who could translate the obscured messages. What he learned from Freud gestated in the mind of Breton and so began a movement of artists from every discipline to shake the shackles off a hypocritical, uncaring and morally bankrupt society whose rigid conventions of social behaviours carved the road to so many senseless deaths. Contemporary society holds on to a delusion that this war and others that follow evoke noble and commendable acts of self -sacrifice which are still commemorated as some kind of testament to the courageous spirit of our species, but the Surrealists cut through this social facade and dismantled the propaganda  of the Great Hoax  and saw the power games of the rich which lured so many unsuspecting young men into illusory notions of King and Country  to kill their fellow comrades across the vast trenches of Europe. The Surrealists rejected everything that society and civilisation deemed to be normal and scoffed at the hypocrisies of institutionalised society by looking into their subconscious and releasing a primordial instinct based on emotional relevance.

Salvadore Dali was one among many artists, including writers, sculptors, playwrights, poets who absorbed this new freedom to explore, express and to test the limits of the human imagination in direct defiance of social codes of conduct and attitudes and created some of the most wonderful Surrealist Paintings of this era. The Surrealist works of art remind us that the unconscious imagination is another window to another reality.

The Persistence of Memory (1931), Salvador Dalí

The Persistence of Memory (1931), Salvador Dalí

Dalí described his meticulously rendered works as “hand-painted dream photographs,” and certainly, the melted watches that make their appearance in this Surrealist masterpiece have become familiar symbols of that moment when reverie seems to uncannily invade the everyday. The coast of the artist’s native Catalonia serves as the backdrop for this landscape of time, in which infinity and decay are held in equipoise. As for the odd, rubbery creature in the center of the composition, it’s the artist himself, or rather his profile, stretched and flattened like Silly Putty

Proclamation of the Mending Spirit

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”

George Bernard Shaw

In moments of reflection I gather my thoughts and consider the nature of my life as it is….

The way I see it, is always changing and the beauty is in the ways I can define myself through the imagination….

The emotional journey that each day has in store for me triggers associations and memories that capture fleeting predilections….

Should I abandon these feelings all is not lost and the place of unguarded moments follows another sequence of imaginative thoughts and the journey begins once again ….

At times I am led into dismal caves of unpleasantness usually provoked by the symptoms of social stresses that unwittingly codify and compartmentalise my creative self and so I lock myself in to these cages of despair unknowingly…

I eventually escape, reinvigorate, reinvent my intentions and restore to empower my journey to continue into areas of depersonalised and neutralised zones of discovery

Oblivious to the sacrifice that buffers the sadness of my fellow comrades I must proclaim… 

 It is I who will die one day and it is I who should live my life in the way I create.

A Humble View on a Life Unwasted

In this thing we call life I would like to document the ways I see the world and how I experience contemporary news. I understand that I do change and that my perceptions are products of my context. The winds of change will affect my context over time and it will be an interesting experiment to see how my voice transforms itself Image result for a life wastedinto a vocal instrument for responding to the world I inhabit.

Creating an online depository of these reflections might offer an interesting read and insights into the purpose and grand scheme of a life I would like to think is unwasted.