Words
An Errant Masking of Death 2022
An assimilation of embezzled language on my part, gathered from notetaking.
Fragments from Jonathan Miles, Jacques Lacan and mine.
Slipping, slippage – sliding into another realm of reality. The unsaid, unresolved, undefined moments within a narration plunges the viewer into a state of an unknowing, unfolding journey. Ambivalence allows for an opening into obscurity and therefore other potentials – similar to the language of poetry.
Poetry is that condition of excess that opens the door of impossible perception.
Violence and discontinuity taken into a space of elsewhere and left within poetic hypnosis – a never region between the non-human and the human.
To provoke present an interweaving of memory and the temporal flux. Throughout the border between dream and reality is rendered uncertain. Nothing is as it seems
Death belongs to no-one, the relationship to it undoes identity and thus asserts itself as an impossibility of relation. Death becomes an empty signifier and as such haunts the social field with a mood of anxiety because it is unknowable.
Desire, a function central to all human experience, is the desire for nothing nameable. And at the same time this desire lies at the origin of every variety of animation. If being were only what it is, there wouldn’t even be room to talk about it. Being comes into existence as an exact function of this lack.
It is unclear what is foreground and what is background. Clarity gives way to ambiguity but this in turn heightens the mystery of what it is that can be seen, and in turn named. Unable to name clearly gives rise to a fascination of the image. With this release of fascination, the spectator sinks into the fabric of the image and surrenders power to it.
If I was able to hold this in my hand if only for a split second I would be satisfied for as far as time will pass…but through these falling rolling veils of incumbent matter there is a distillation. What do I desire from this?
There is no conclusion but a way of considering mis-recognition as the bypassing of method as a process of generating legibility.
Kairos is the instant, the moment of rupture and the opening of temporality. In opening time in this way, the opening of being is signified. Kairos is connected to poiesis (or the coming into presence) and is located at the interstice of the void and the act of naming. We require such an edge if we need to capture hold of something that is in the air or excessive, in order not to lapse into a reified notion of cultural progression or chronos. Thoughts on the fragment carry a demand for new ways of theorising time, without which the fragment lapses into an empty gesture.
Now-time is the entry point into deep time or non-human time, an intuition which opens out the folds of interior subjectification as a lost continent of expression.
Perhaps all that is left, is to look into the eye of a whale. This is the potential of strangeness that is locked away in time. The future is like that, a surprise of the present. That is why art appears as untimely because it is the nerve-spring that alters temporality or simply passes into oblivion without return.
Whilst staring into death, juxtaposition with aliveness occurs - Overawed by the sense of beast within the animal. The eye a gateway into infinity, the past the present and the future.
You no longer stare at me I am unrecognised, however you can be stared upon until I tire of what I see… and yet the tiring does not appear…
The re-amalgamation of fragments – from within the chaos of the lived experience, debris collects and through the unrecognisable obscurity opens up the possibility of a new encounter
“But the life of spirit is not the life that shrinks from death and keeps itself untouched by devastation, but rather the life that endures it and maintains itself in it. It wins its truth only when, in utter dismemberment, it finds itself.” Hegel
Great Chain, 2021
Oh vertical one of great Godliness
I see myself at your summit
how tall your framework
I would hate to fall from such great heights
sanctification dehumanisation
yet when I look below, your feet you are set in detritus
how so? and do I see movement amongst the effluents
…down there with the animals.
they are putrid souls...are they alive or dead…ah, held in purgatory
but they have fallen I take it
Well, then they deserve it…they will burn
sanctification dehumanisation
Fitting within reason, if you are unreasonable in the eyes of the hierarchy, then you are unsanctified and if you are unsanctified then…
You are with the devil,
so you must burn!
Are you down on your luck,
depraved and dirty?
sanctification dehumanisation
oh…perhaps you see yourself as up and coming
perhaps you can rise up through the ranks
up into the hierarchies
but don’t bet on it
because there are rules for you…and rules for me
I am Earth, I am 2021
Facing down into the earth, the sun warming my neck.
Lips touching soil...
tongue licking, caressing this soft warm matter.
meta-compulsion, convulsion; rupture - tongue, a tentacle, forcing its way into the soil…
Earth fills my mouth and throat, passing down into my lungs, stomach, gut … body rearing up, a nebulas spasm, jolting inwards – outwards, legs wrought…
scull soften …bones liquifying… dissolving
Arms withered, absorbing…. warming waves flow through me – caressing muscle: flesh: hair
Passing through segmented convulsions, – drawing in, drawing out
Loosen, unloosen… unfettered by bone – I am free.
Entombed, Silent - moisture is my air - soil my ocean. I am translucent, transmuted
I am oceanic.
Receiver and giver – my saddle ripe with fruit, casting off behind me – a message into the future, a unifying continuum.
Medusa’s Last Laugh, 2021
Softly you caress my skin….as we lay here anticipating.
You, my companions at rest
We taste the air together, talking in tongues
…awaiting our fate
We will die today…in the hands of a cruel master
who’s violent tongue has licked me clean
He may have penetrated my being
but he did not remove my lust
my desire
my love
As I show him my true nature,
my true power.
my quivering body -
quelling, swelling and pouring out over his feet
he will be seized by fear…
that a limp phallus will take the place of his sword
We will laugh at his blindness to our beauty
…as he removes our head
But he will leave my body to intersperse,
intermingle
…and we will dissolve then grow
into the bio spheric continuum
… auto-poiesis our insistent companion,
a genesis of enriching absorption, an emergent alliance of becoming.
We will flow through the earth and waters.
And all on earth will drink of us.
Our F-e-m-a-l-e-n-e-s-s, a forever presence within the vibration of existence
An assimilation of embezzled language on my part, gathered from notetaking.
Fragments from Jonathan Miles, Jacques Lacan and mine.
Slipping, slippage – sliding into another realm of reality. The unsaid, unresolved, undefined moments within a narration plunges the viewer into a state of an unknowing, unfolding journey. Ambivalence allows for an opening into obscurity and therefore other potentials – similar to the language of poetry.
Poetry is that condition of excess that opens the door of impossible perception.
Violence and discontinuity taken into a space of elsewhere and left within poetic hypnosis – a never region between the non-human and the human.
To provoke present an interweaving of memory and the temporal flux. Throughout the border between dream and reality is rendered uncertain. Nothing is as it seems
Death belongs to no-one, the relationship to it undoes identity and thus asserts itself as an impossibility of relation. Death becomes an empty signifier and as such haunts the social field with a mood of anxiety because it is unknowable.
Desire, a function central to all human experience, is the desire for nothing nameable. And at the same time this desire lies at the origin of every variety of animation. If being were only what it is, there wouldn’t even be room to talk about it. Being comes into existence as an exact function of this lack.
It is unclear what is foreground and what is background. Clarity gives way to ambiguity but this in turn heightens the mystery of what it is that can be seen, and in turn named. Unable to name clearly gives rise to a fascination of the image. With this release of fascination, the spectator sinks into the fabric of the image and surrenders power to it.
If I was able to hold this in my hand if only for a split second I would be satisfied for as far as time will pass…but through these falling rolling veils of incumbent matter there is a distillation. What do I desire from this?
There is no conclusion but a way of considering mis-recognition as the bypassing of method as a process of generating legibility.
Kairos is the instant, the moment of rupture and the opening of temporality. In opening time in this way, the opening of being is signified. Kairos is connected to poiesis (or the coming into presence) and is located at the interstice of the void and the act of naming. We require such an edge if we need to capture hold of something that is in the air or excessive, in order not to lapse into a reified notion of cultural progression or chronos. Thoughts on the fragment carry a demand for new ways of theorising time, without which the fragment lapses into an empty gesture.
Now-time is the entry point into deep time or non-human time, an intuition which opens out the folds of interior subjectification as a lost continent of expression.
Perhaps all that is left, is to look into the eye of a whale. This is the potential of strangeness that is locked away in time. The future is like that, a surprise of the present. That is why art appears as untimely because it is the nerve-spring that alters temporality or simply passes into oblivion without return.
Whilst staring into death, juxtaposition with aliveness occurs - Overawed by the sense of beast within the animal. The eye a gateway into infinity, the past the present and the future.
You no longer stare at me I am unrecognised, however you can be stared upon until I tire of what I see… and yet the tiring does not appear…
The re-amalgamation of fragments – from within the chaos of the lived experience, debris collects and through the unrecognisable obscurity opens up the possibility of a new encounter
“But the life of spirit is not the life that shrinks from death and keeps itself untouched by devastation, but rather the life that endures it and maintains itself in it. It wins its truth only when, in utter dismemberment, it finds itself.” Hegel
Great Chain, 2021
Oh vertical one of great Godliness
I see myself at your summit
how tall your framework
I would hate to fall from such great heights
sanctification dehumanisation
yet when I look below, your feet you are set in detritus
how so? and do I see movement amongst the effluents
…down there with the animals.
they are putrid souls...are they alive or dead…ah, held in purgatory
but they have fallen I take it
Well, then they deserve it…they will burn
sanctification dehumanisation
Fitting within reason, if you are unreasonable in the eyes of the hierarchy, then you are unsanctified and if you are unsanctified then…
You are with the devil,
so you must burn!
Are you down on your luck,
depraved and dirty?
sanctification dehumanisation
oh…perhaps you see yourself as up and coming
perhaps you can rise up through the ranks
up into the hierarchies
but don’t bet on it
because there are rules for you…and rules for me
I am Earth, I am 2021
Facing down into the earth, the sun warming my neck.
Lips touching soil...
tongue licking, caressing this soft warm matter.
meta-compulsion, convulsion; rupture - tongue, a tentacle, forcing its way into the soil…
Earth fills my mouth and throat, passing down into my lungs, stomach, gut … body rearing up, a nebulas spasm, jolting inwards – outwards, legs wrought…
scull soften …bones liquifying… dissolving
Arms withered, absorbing…. warming waves flow through me – caressing muscle: flesh: hair
Passing through segmented convulsions, – drawing in, drawing out
Loosen, unloosen… unfettered by bone – I am free.
Entombed, Silent - moisture is my air - soil my ocean. I am translucent, transmuted
I am oceanic.
Receiver and giver – my saddle ripe with fruit, casting off behind me – a message into the future, a unifying continuum.
Medusa’s Last Laugh, 2021
Softly you caress my skin….as we lay here anticipating.
You, my companions at rest
We taste the air together, talking in tongues
…awaiting our fate
We will die today…in the hands of a cruel master
who’s violent tongue has licked me clean
He may have penetrated my being
but he did not remove my lust
my desire
my love
As I show him my true nature,
my true power.
my quivering body -
quelling, swelling and pouring out over his feet
he will be seized by fear…
that a limp phallus will take the place of his sword
We will laugh at his blindness to our beauty
…as he removes our head
But he will leave my body to intersperse,
intermingle
…and we will dissolve then grow
into the bio spheric continuum
… auto-poiesis our insistent companion,
a genesis of enriching absorption, an emergent alliance of becoming.
We will flow through the earth and waters.
And all on earth will drink of us.
Our F-e-m-a-l-e-n-e-s-s, a forever presence within the vibration of existence
Umwelten, 2022
As a splinter of debris ruptures the surface of memory, the communal beast secretes an odour of butyric acid.
An eyeless animal falls blindly downward, caught in a self-centred world mutating.
The mind, an organ sensible embeds itself into the cutaneous tissue of reason, drawing up the nutrients within the gelatinous stream of warm blood.
Amphora, 2021
Oh sea shrunken, sea drunken, broken roll
Swell bulging topple, I youthful grappled to keep hold
Clasping, I grasp but you lift me and shift me… and throw me crooked down
A footing lost, bent on knuckled toe - I buckle bound under your weight and density-crushed.
A chasm-ous force of gulp air… drowning down… drawing round.
Yet with soft caressing lick…tongued waves, nauseous craving
Your sorrow filled shanty soothed the blows – and so the current flowed
Tentacled seedlings billowed in the watery air of your follicl-ed self
And latched within the hank and stay of my being.
Nestling, un-resting - insurrection
Catch me, in your sticky arms, I dream…
Hold me there in swollen plenitude…in your wavering grasp, keep hold, keep hold
Tie me down, don’t let me drift…for I will shift - too far, too long, too deep – a rudderless, unweighted mass.
Chance may bring a pocket of warmth to stroke my flesh as it passes in dappled tones
Yet this dream dispersed, you spat me out … throwing my bloated body down upon the rocky bed – b’gugeon-ed
Bursting with life – you severed these souls in a bid to possess them.
And so we clung to the reef, the unknown deliverer of bountiful fruit.
Cast-off and caught in the current of your own making
The depths you sank to, tethered you fast.
A millstone rope upon your shackled ankles – ebb and flow your own dark undercurrent.
Oh, what you have missed whilst festering in the blanket of your choking silt and deadeye.
Amphora a deliverer of valuable cargo, a garden of fruitfulness, a scented reef of sweetness.
A witnessing of metamorphosis, an emergence of divine becoming.
Addressing Blind Reason, 2021
Carefully constructed truths
Identified and relied upon…
…complexity, simplified into predictability
Order, we need order, in an unpredictable, natural world
Reject your primitive mind…your superstitious ignorance
Carefully constructed truths
complexity, simplified into predictability
Something seems false, lost and changing
our behaviour lawlike becoming warlike
Limited and inhibited
Uncertainty, our inherent cosmic expression
Anxiety, its infant child - a guiding force.
An emerging transpersonal psychology
An essential state of being
Predictability is…complexity, simplified, identified and then relied upon…
Unknowable and Unpredictable
A catalyst, prevailing paradigm
Pandora’s Box a second coming
Chaotic uncertainty
…as an expression of boundless creativity
Feeding the Urge - The Fallen Virtues of Modernity, 2021
Oh when virtue was the one
you held your stake of honour aloft…a bloodied stake at that
Restrained in your contemplative ways I hear
and yet you annihilate ‘the other’ so willingly
The urge to surge
progress, progression, a violent regression
Your streams of fluid privilege engulfing terrain and being,
you move fast and furiously
toppling all in your babbling, frothing liquid, upwelling
The urge to surge
progress, progression – a violent regression
Archimedean’s principle does not balance well with your principles
your unnerving appetite for power is insatiable
Bring on your reason, your models of justification
The urge to surge
progress, progression – a violent regression
You take control, at any cost
And your search for power insures that your pleasure is endowed
But listen hard…we will dam(n) you and harness your power for ourselves
Your urge to surge
progress, progression – a violent regression
A torrent, void of humanity
A Matrixial Swathe 2021
Embody, not death – a poesis in flesh
… poetic pause held before life.
We meet at a fulcrum of existence, vibrating trans-matter.
Feelknow me I’m here
Feelthink me I’m there
I am your thingness of things…your transubjectivity… a juncture for fragilization
meet me in between…and let me hold you…
here in the sublime- trans-sensing - pulsating – vibrating strings
Feelthink me I’m here
Feelknow me I’m there
A borderlinking trans-fluidity - intertwining mesh of transconnectivity
we float along - a long a passage between life and nonlife
attuning – transforming – vibrating – connecting
Feelknow me I’m here
Feelthink me I’m there
together let’s share phantasmic traces of femaleness
the beauty within the matrixial web
when I overspill, perhaps you will collect my traces…
together we will find a silent trembling in the world, by which we will live.
Feelthink me I’m here
As a splinter of debris ruptures the surface of memory, the communal beast secretes an odour of butyric acid.
An eyeless animal falls blindly downward, caught in a self-centred world mutating.
The mind, an organ sensible embeds itself into the cutaneous tissue of reason, drawing up the nutrients within the gelatinous stream of warm blood.
Amphora, 2021
Oh sea shrunken, sea drunken, broken roll
Swell bulging topple, I youthful grappled to keep hold
Clasping, I grasp but you lift me and shift me… and throw me crooked down
A footing lost, bent on knuckled toe - I buckle bound under your weight and density-crushed.
A chasm-ous force of gulp air… drowning down… drawing round.
Yet with soft caressing lick…tongued waves, nauseous craving
Your sorrow filled shanty soothed the blows – and so the current flowed
Tentacled seedlings billowed in the watery air of your follicl-ed self
And latched within the hank and stay of my being.
Nestling, un-resting - insurrection
Catch me, in your sticky arms, I dream…
Hold me there in swollen plenitude…in your wavering grasp, keep hold, keep hold
Tie me down, don’t let me drift…for I will shift - too far, too long, too deep – a rudderless, unweighted mass.
Chance may bring a pocket of warmth to stroke my flesh as it passes in dappled tones
Yet this dream dispersed, you spat me out … throwing my bloated body down upon the rocky bed – b’gugeon-ed
Bursting with life – you severed these souls in a bid to possess them.
And so we clung to the reef, the unknown deliverer of bountiful fruit.
Cast-off and caught in the current of your own making
The depths you sank to, tethered you fast.
A millstone rope upon your shackled ankles – ebb and flow your own dark undercurrent.
Oh, what you have missed whilst festering in the blanket of your choking silt and deadeye.
Amphora a deliverer of valuable cargo, a garden of fruitfulness, a scented reef of sweetness.
A witnessing of metamorphosis, an emergence of divine becoming.
Addressing Blind Reason, 2021
Carefully constructed truths
Identified and relied upon…
…complexity, simplified into predictability
Order, we need order, in an unpredictable, natural world
Reject your primitive mind…your superstitious ignorance
Carefully constructed truths
complexity, simplified into predictability
Something seems false, lost and changing
our behaviour lawlike becoming warlike
Limited and inhibited
Uncertainty, our inherent cosmic expression
Anxiety, its infant child - a guiding force.
An emerging transpersonal psychology
An essential state of being
Predictability is…complexity, simplified, identified and then relied upon…
Unknowable and Unpredictable
A catalyst, prevailing paradigm
Pandora’s Box a second coming
Chaotic uncertainty
…as an expression of boundless creativity
Feeding the Urge - The Fallen Virtues of Modernity, 2021
Oh when virtue was the one
you held your stake of honour aloft…a bloodied stake at that
Restrained in your contemplative ways I hear
and yet you annihilate ‘the other’ so willingly
The urge to surge
progress, progression, a violent regression
Your streams of fluid privilege engulfing terrain and being,
you move fast and furiously
toppling all in your babbling, frothing liquid, upwelling
The urge to surge
progress, progression – a violent regression
Archimedean’s principle does not balance well with your principles
your unnerving appetite for power is insatiable
Bring on your reason, your models of justification
The urge to surge
progress, progression – a violent regression
You take control, at any cost
And your search for power insures that your pleasure is endowed
But listen hard…we will dam(n) you and harness your power for ourselves
Your urge to surge
progress, progression – a violent regression
A torrent, void of humanity
A Matrixial Swathe 2021
Embody, not death – a poesis in flesh
… poetic pause held before life.
We meet at a fulcrum of existence, vibrating trans-matter.
Feelknow me I’m here
Feelthink me I’m there
I am your thingness of things…your transubjectivity… a juncture for fragilization
meet me in between…and let me hold you…
here in the sublime- trans-sensing - pulsating – vibrating strings
Feelthink me I’m here
Feelknow me I’m there
A borderlinking trans-fluidity - intertwining mesh of transconnectivity
we float along - a long a passage between life and nonlife
attuning – transforming – vibrating – connecting
Feelknow me I’m here
Feelthink me I’m there
together let’s share phantasmic traces of femaleness
the beauty within the matrixial web
when I overspill, perhaps you will collect my traces…
together we will find a silent trembling in the world, by which we will live.
Feelthink me I’m here