Thursday, November 26, 2009
a song in the movie Nacho Libre. i really like this film. different even though it follows a familiar formula. very sweet. great song though.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
i was recently reading about clouds and was reminded of Stieglitz
Hey, talking about clouds and cloud chambers reminded me, almost instantly of staring at photos by famous American photographer Alfred Stieglitz (married to Georgia O'Keeffe). I've been privileged enough to find several exhibits over the years showcasing his photos. Strange to think of standing for hours looking at pictures of clouds, but they entranced the viewer into some long drawn out tale of silver and contrast, life and what was impossible to capture yet was captured as best it could be in front of me. He printed in gelatin silver print, which to me always held a depth and organic presentation unmatched by any other printing. Of course that was not his only subject over the years, but definitely a subject that was important and yielded fine art in its most fine self.
Alfred Stieglitz-
"Thirty five or more years ago I spent a few days in Murren Switzerland and I was experimenting with ortho plates. Clouds and their relationship to the rest of the world, and clouds for themselves, interested me, and clouds which were most difficult to photograph - nearly impossible. Ever since then clouds have been in my mind most powerfully at times and I always knew I'd follow up the experiment made over 35 years ago I always watched clouds. Studied them. Had unusual opportunities up here on this hillside.
I'd finally do something I had in mind for years. I'd make a series of cloud pictures I told Miss O' Keeffe of my ideas. I wanted to photograph clouds to find out what I had learned in 40 years about photography. Through clouds to put down my philosophy of life to show that my photographs were not due to subject matter not to special trees or faces or interiors to special privileges, clouds were there for everyone no tax as yet on them, free."
taken from: AMERICA AND ALFRED STIEGLITZ A COLLECTIVE PORTRAIT
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Sculpture in Firenze - Piazza Signoria Pt.4
How is it possible to get such realism and perfect detail in anatomy - carving into stone! Not clay where you can mush and mend the material, but a rock - marble. The emotion on the faces and the folds in skin and tensed muscles. These sculptures were in a public square outside of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy. for everyone to walk up to and admire. They are incredible.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
the third man phenomenon
Guardian angels or parts of our selves that secure self preservation. the third man refers to a spectral presence seen and heard by a person when in a life or death situation. the presence guides these people through situations they might not have gotten through, or found a way out of on their own. well documented and written about, the third man in one sense seems a concept easy to understand and then in the other something of a ghost story. Here is Wikipedia's small write up:
The Third Man factor or Third Man syndrome is a phenomenon in which an unseen presence provides comfort or support during traumatic experiences. The most famous example is recorded by Sir Ernest Shackleton in his book South, in which he describes his belief that an incorporeal being joined him and two others during the final leg of their journey. Wrote Shackleton, "during that long and racking march of thirty-six hours over the unnamed mountains and glaciers of South Georgia, it seemed to me often that we were four, not three."[1] His admission resulted in other survivors of extreme hardship coming forward. In recent years well-known adventurers like climber Reinhold Messner and polar explorers Peter Hillary and Ann Bancroft have reported the experience. One study of cases involving adventurers reported that the largest group involved climbers, with solo sailors and shipwreck survivors being the second most common group, followed by polar explorers.[2] Proponents relate this to be the source of the Guardian angel belief.[3] Various theories have been presented as possible explanations for the phenomenon, including psychological and neurological explanations, although religious observers suggest the reported cases are manifestations of a guardian angel. The concept was popularized by a book by John Geiger, The Third Man Factor, that documents scores of examples.
I first read about it in Mens Journal which had a great article published a few months ago. It centered on one persons experience getting out from the 84th floor of the world trade center when it was on fire and about to collapse. Being from Long Island, just 20 minutes away from NYC my family and i know several people who made it out and one person who did not. My Mom's friend made it out and relayed her account to us, but the article in this link describes the ghostly third man who guided someone out when he otherwise would not have found the way.
Since my blog is more about the complete self, which to me seems like selves rather than one self, i thought this phenomenon was fitting.
The Third Man factor or Third Man syndrome is a phenomenon in which an unseen presence provides comfort or support during traumatic experiences. The most famous example is recorded by Sir Ernest Shackleton in his book South, in which he describes his belief that an incorporeal being joined him and two others during the final leg of their journey. Wrote Shackleton, "during that long and racking march of thirty-six hours over the unnamed mountains and glaciers of South Georgia, it seemed to me often that we were four, not three."[1] His admission resulted in other survivors of extreme hardship coming forward. In recent years well-known adventurers like climber Reinhold Messner and polar explorers Peter Hillary and Ann Bancroft have reported the experience. One study of cases involving adventurers reported that the largest group involved climbers, with solo sailors and shipwreck survivors being the second most common group, followed by polar explorers.[2] Proponents relate this to be the source of the Guardian angel belief.[3] Various theories have been presented as possible explanations for the phenomenon, including psychological and neurological explanations, although religious observers suggest the reported cases are manifestations of a guardian angel. The concept was popularized by a book by John Geiger, The Third Man Factor, that documents scores of examples.
I first read about it in Mens Journal which had a great article published a few months ago. It centered on one persons experience getting out from the 84th floor of the world trade center when it was on fire and about to collapse. Being from Long Island, just 20 minutes away from NYC my family and i know several people who made it out and one person who did not. My Mom's friend made it out and relayed her account to us, but the article in this link describes the ghostly third man who guided someone out when he otherwise would not have found the way.
Since my blog is more about the complete self, which to me seems like selves rather than one self, i thought this phenomenon was fitting.
a poem
A poem written a few days ago. Alice and i were e-mailing and she asked to hear some new words, coincidentally i had this poem written in which the title (or first line) reminded me of her paintings. The first line was written down weeks ago knowing it would have words to follow sooner or later.
I am the King Of the Broken Blackbird Wing
I said to the Dream Deer - and it stings.
Thinking somewhere else
in rich black coal the mountain had wealth
and as we stood on the crevasse shelf
the field took us hold and the
cold stole my health.
Standing so close i figured the Deer near
though a turn of his head spoke and sped us clear -
a hawk in the sky,
a telephone wire
and the gloomy rain would set the autumn day in mire,
Across the way the Deer was last to stay.
A tone in the feet of the walking night
crept behind the horizontal slivers of
thundercloud bleached light -
the crack and boom,
the ground bloomed and the last
marigold groomed the switches of my hair -
one answer left for us in the
squinting of our stare.
The Deer awoke and the dream was broke
and again i could afford the rain of a king with wing in autumn and yoke.
I am the King Of the Broken Blackbird Wing
I said to the Dream Deer - and it stings.
Thinking somewhere else
in rich black coal the mountain had wealth
and as we stood on the crevasse shelf
the field took us hold and the
cold stole my health.
Standing so close i figured the Deer near
though a turn of his head spoke and sped us clear -
a hawk in the sky,
a telephone wire
and the gloomy rain would set the autumn day in mire,
Across the way the Deer was last to stay.
A tone in the feet of the walking night
crept behind the horizontal slivers of
thundercloud bleached light -
the crack and boom,
the ground bloomed and the last
marigold groomed the switches of my hair -
one answer left for us in the
squinting of our stare.
The Deer awoke and the dream was broke
and again i could afford the rain of a king with wing in autumn and yoke.
a picture of the croatian countryside. there seems to be a lack of photos on this blog recently. click image to see larger
nice song
found Ivan and Alyosha and this wonderful song Easy to Love on an itunes podcast, which you really should be checking out regularly. very good stuff. podcasts are free, making them a totally excellent and generous resource for culture, music and strange facts, made up facts in the case of "Today in the Past" and opinions.
in any event, click this myspace link (the link is safe, gary) to get to Ivan and Alyosha and when on their page load up the song Easy to Love, which may not be set to play first. their other songs are quite nice as well. stop back here and tell me what you think if you do listen.
in any event, click this myspace link (the link is safe, gary) to get to Ivan and Alyosha and when on their page load up the song Easy to Love, which may not be set to play first. their other songs are quite nice as well. stop back here and tell me what you think if you do listen.
Friday, November 6, 2009
winkies
sorry for the long video clip, and im not sure if i posted this one before, but was just looking up things on youtube and came across it. its from Mulholland Drive by David Lynch. an actual masterpiece of cinema - totally rich and stylized with an individual character like you could never describe. two of my favorite scenes are in this clip. so strange and captivating. the detail is immaculate. the tiny gestures of the actors, slight sounds and perfect store window quality exactness of the set makes these scenes strangly believable and at the same time so far fetched. Lynch's movies are slathered in themes of criss crossing duality. if you haven't seen them go for it. they can get a bit scary for realistic reasons but just convince a friend, or your other self to sit and become totally absorbed into his worlds.
do you know this quote?
"No matter where you stand in your business, career or life (and no matter what challenges you now face), when you make the conscious decision to become a person of action (rather than being indecisive) you instantly turn the tide of life in your favor." -Andrew Wood
looking back
hey peeps, was looking through old posts the other other day and found this comment by fellow blogger sepiru. great words.
Screw it. The Coles notes version.
I'm with Ben.
I don't think love is divisible.
It hits or it doesn't.
It never requires quid pro quo or tit for tat.
It doesn't even matter if it is requited or unrequited.
Therefore it keeps adding to itself in new layers that each bypass the rest to go right to the bone (for us), or into our marrow, and into our fevered heads and hearts.
And it can meld with past love's residues to gain complexity whereas before there was raw innocence and inexperience. But it can both blend and remain unmixed at the same time. Competing quantum states. Like the simultaneously living and dead cats of Schrödinger's famous thought experiment in quantum physics.
And love doesn't disappear. Even when it sours or turns ugly.
The sourness is only sour in comparison to the memory of what came before. The ugliness... the same. And then, it creeps back and reminds of the good times years or days or months later. Sometimes lifetimes away.
As it is indivisible, so is it ethereal. We cannot weight it or measure it or sell it or buy it. We can forget it exists and do the most horrendous things. It's perfume always lingers, but normally forgotten, but it need not be sheath to insulate us from new loves and new contacts.
Casey, I think that is who Anonymous is still, if Ben is not letting his connection go, then you might be right. But I don't think we can ever let go of loves. We just have to not clutch them close and long for a past that does not exist. If he is dreaming of them and ignoring the present, I am with you. But how can you forget a past love. Even the act of forgetting requires a foil, a remembering...
OK. This is the quick version, and nowhere near as eloquent or as thought out as the last version. And I certainly won't review it in case I lose this one too.
p.s. from editor:
does blogging bring out other sides of your writing that would otherwise not materialize? or is it just to ramble endlessly like the critics would say
Screw it. The Coles notes version.
I'm with Ben.
I don't think love is divisible.
It hits or it doesn't.
It never requires quid pro quo or tit for tat.
It doesn't even matter if it is requited or unrequited.
Therefore it keeps adding to itself in new layers that each bypass the rest to go right to the bone (for us), or into our marrow, and into our fevered heads and hearts.
And it can meld with past love's residues to gain complexity whereas before there was raw innocence and inexperience. But it can both blend and remain unmixed at the same time. Competing quantum states. Like the simultaneously living and dead cats of Schrödinger's famous thought experiment in quantum physics.
And love doesn't disappear. Even when it sours or turns ugly.
The sourness is only sour in comparison to the memory of what came before. The ugliness... the same. And then, it creeps back and reminds of the good times years or days or months later. Sometimes lifetimes away.
As it is indivisible, so is it ethereal. We cannot weight it or measure it or sell it or buy it. We can forget it exists and do the most horrendous things. It's perfume always lingers, but normally forgotten, but it need not be sheath to insulate us from new loves and new contacts.
Casey, I think that is who Anonymous is still, if Ben is not letting his connection go, then you might be right. But I don't think we can ever let go of loves. We just have to not clutch them close and long for a past that does not exist. If he is dreaming of them and ignoring the present, I am with you. But how can you forget a past love. Even the act of forgetting requires a foil, a remembering...
OK. This is the quick version, and nowhere near as eloquent or as thought out as the last version. And I certainly won't review it in case I lose this one too.
p.s. from editor:
does blogging bring out other sides of your writing that would otherwise not materialize? or is it just to ramble endlessly like the critics would say
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Jimi Hendrix "My Friend"
I have my brother Josh to thank for telling me about this song back when i was in high school. I always liked my borther's interpretations or viewpoints/relayed info on Hendrix or Jim Morrison, Zeppelin, etc.
I would bet you havent heard of this Hendrix tune. its a great song. and coincidentally goes right along with the theme of this blog, which is second selves or doppelgangers, duality or in any other mode you and your other self take form or name each other.
Its a deep and sad song. Wikipedia has a bit about it and the album Cry of Love, which it was realsed on.
music only with pictures (mtv hadn't happened yet)
I would bet you havent heard of this Hendrix tune. its a great song. and coincidentally goes right along with the theme of this blog, which is second selves or doppelgangers, duality or in any other mode you and your other self take form or name each other.
Its a deep and sad song. Wikipedia has a bit about it and the album Cry of Love, which it was realsed on.
music only with pictures (mtv hadn't happened yet)
prob my favorite doors song
The Soft Parade
When I was back there in seminary school
There was a person there
Who put forth the proposition
That you can petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
You cannot petition the Lord with prayer!
Can you give me sanctuary?
I must find a place to hide,
A place for me to hide.
Can you find me soft asylum?
I can't make it anymore
The Man is at the door.
Peppermint, miniskirts, chocolate candy,
Champion sax and a girl named Sandy
There's only four ways to get unraveled —
One is to sleep and the other is travel at dawn.
One is a bandit up in the hills,
One is to love your neighbor till
His wife gets home.
Catacombs,
Nursery bones,
Winter women
Growing stones,
Carrying babies
To the river;
Streets and shoes,
Avenues,
Leather riders
Selling news,
The monk bought Lunch.
He he he, he bought a little.
Yes, he did Woo!
This is the best part of the trip.
This is the trip, the best part
I really like it.
What'd he say?
Yeah!Yeah, right!
Pretty good, huh
Huh!
Yeah, I'm proud to be a part of this number!
Successful hills are here to stay,
Everything must be this way.
Gentle streets where people play,
Welcome to the Soft Parade.
All our lives we sweat and save,
Building for a shallow grave.
“Must be something else”, we say
“Somehow to defend this place.”
Everything must be this way,
Everything must be this way, yeah.
Aah, yeah!
The Soft Parade has now begun
Listen to the engines hum.
People out to have some fun,
Cobra on my left,
Leopard on my right, yeah.
Deer woman in a silk dress,
Girls with beads around their necks,
Kiss the hunter of the green vest
Who has wrestled before
With lions in the night.
Out of sight!
The lights are getting brighter,
The radio is moaning,
Calling to the dogs.
There are still a few animals
Left out in the yard,
But it's getting harder
To describe sailors
To the underfed.
Tropic corridor,
Tropic treasure,
What got us this far,
To this mild equator?
We need someone or something new,
Something else to get us through, yeah.
C'mon!
(1st voice 2nd voice 3rd voice)
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' on the dogs,
But it's gettin' harder
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' in the dogs,
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' on the gods.
You gotta Meet me
Too late, baby!
Shoot a few animals аt the crossroads
Too late!
let out in the yard.
But it's getting harder Whoa!
Gotta meet me
You’ve done great, hey!
at the edge of town, Having a good time.
You’d better come along
outskirts of the city Let’s fun!
Just you and Iand the evening sky.
We are so alone.
Better bring your gun
You’d better come along.
You’d better bring your gun.
We’re gonna have some fun!
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure.
“When all else fails,
We can whip the horse's
Eyes and make them sleep
and cry.”
okay, its a bit crazy, but you have to hear it: click me
When I was back there in seminary school
There was a person there
Who put forth the proposition
That you can petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
You cannot petition the Lord with prayer!
Can you give me sanctuary?
I must find a place to hide,
A place for me to hide.
Can you find me soft asylum?
I can't make it anymore
The Man is at the door.
Peppermint, miniskirts, chocolate candy,
Champion sax and a girl named Sandy
There's only four ways to get unraveled —
One is to sleep and the other is travel at dawn.
One is a bandit up in the hills,
One is to love your neighbor till
His wife gets home.
Catacombs,
Nursery bones,
Winter women
Growing stones,
Carrying babies
To the river;
Streets and shoes,
Avenues,
Leather riders
Selling news,
The monk bought Lunch.
He he he, he bought a little.
Yes, he did Woo!
This is the best part of the trip.
This is the trip, the best part
I really like it.
What'd he say?
Yeah!Yeah, right!
Pretty good, huh
Huh!
Yeah, I'm proud to be a part of this number!
Successful hills are here to stay,
Everything must be this way.
Gentle streets where people play,
Welcome to the Soft Parade.
All our lives we sweat and save,
Building for a shallow grave.
“Must be something else”, we say
“Somehow to defend this place.”
Everything must be this way,
Everything must be this way, yeah.
Aah, yeah!
The Soft Parade has now begun
Listen to the engines hum.
People out to have some fun,
Cobra on my left,
Leopard on my right, yeah.
Deer woman in a silk dress,
Girls with beads around their necks,
Kiss the hunter of the green vest
Who has wrestled before
With lions in the night.
Out of sight!
The lights are getting brighter,
The radio is moaning,
Calling to the dogs.
There are still a few animals
Left out in the yard,
But it's getting harder
To describe sailors
To the underfed.
Tropic corridor,
Tropic treasure,
What got us this far,
To this mild equator?
We need someone or something new,
Something else to get us through, yeah.
C'mon!
(1st voice 2nd voice 3rd voice)
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' on the dogs,
But it's gettin' harder
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' in the dogs,
Callin' on the dogs,
Callin' on the gods.
You gotta Meet me
Too late, baby!
Shoot a few animals аt the crossroads
Too late!
let out in the yard.
But it's getting harder Whoa!
Gotta meet me
You’ve done great, hey!
at the edge of town, Having a good time.
You’d better come along
outskirts of the city Let’s fun!
Just you and Iand the evening sky.
We are so alone.
Better bring your gun
You’d better come along.
You’d better bring your gun.
We’re gonna have some fun!
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure.
“When all else fails,
We can whip the horse's
Eyes and make them sleep
and cry.”
okay, its a bit crazy, but you have to hear it: click me
Saturday, October 17, 2009
In Additon (not new edition - see bottom of post)
There is a new post just posted about 6 posts down which was in the draft stage kind of like the referred to artwork in said draft. so go check it out, i promise it's totally interesting (tattoos). Gary will be extra proud.
P.S.
oh, and talking about piercings...definitely do not click this
Who are yoU?
Who are you - the cops or robbers? Cowboys or indians? or maybe a little bit of both. When are you which or is it unpredictable, or not. Thats a double negative isnt it, which is a positive, or both. So do you bust yourself when commiting a crime against morality or do you pleed your case successfully and get off whithout a hitch? But there is a hitch isnt there, because of judgement. push the papers through but theres a paper trail. Shake it off brother or sister. Get on with the next act, you're free to go.
But you'll be tracking your tracks again soon enough for soon to be happy. I am a cop, who gets busted by the robber and i am a native inhabitant of an invaded land. impossible. it doesnt really matter because the wonderful noise of our day helps to blend toast and butter and we get along just fine, or even better. Until something happens and you wonder what happened or who you are.
Here is an image of some street art i found, i guess not on the street, but near it on a wall connected to the street, but you know what i mean, right?
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