Making art, making poems. The regurgitation of idealized creative movements that were imperfect when they were born and are perfected as we prolong their existence. Smoking cigarettes, upholding a steady level of caffeination, staying awake long after its even useful or romantic.
I had a very long talk with a dear friend of mine, who also happens to look at me to the point that the possession of my own being comes into question ---have you ever had that happen? There you are talking away like the days are short, seasoned with madness and nights submerged in some understanding of it all, then your pair of pupils cross another and its quite clear that they arent separate at all, never were, just lingering apart for a bit waiting for the ripples to push them together again. It is some other form of energy unto itself, this connection. Much to be learned there. Anyway, there we were, smoking like fiends, pacing around the room, staring at each other, discussing this thing of making art, trying to articulate its desperation. And it is desperation! Never ending stream of observation and the ingestion of each vibratory sensation that glues us all together in this fighting, hating, loving, sexing, stealing, giving, healing humanity! I really hate to make a drama out of it all but it is unavoidable. To record this life in art is life lived in love. And it is the most disastrous affair one can have. The rejection of poverty isn't limited to material exclusion but rather, it takes root in these emotive beats, stepping in time with the collection of pulses. You give of yourself, to the world, like you would a lover, forgetting time, place, responsibility, logic. Everything is viewed through the rose colored mania of lust as if every breath might be the last and you must soak up the skin, heart, soul, brain, essential presence found within the object of your affections. As if it is never enough just to be next to them, staring, touching, breathing in their exhale. When life deals to you trains of misfortune, bad luck as it seems, or you observe in the workings of your human family, hateful and avoidable situations of objectification, misery, neglect, it is not that singular situation which consumes you but it a profound rejection from your lover, the world. The melancholy of an artist might seem to many such a romantic notion, and it is in some ways. Your odd or passionate behavior might be looked at as a novelty, some kind of trickery to be called upon for entertainment. Or perhaps, it might seem some divine relegation, as if you are anointed by figures of some ethereality. Whatever it might be, you must listen for the quiet sometimes, when heal on ground is the only destruction present. Find those pupils that match your own in pain, living, seeing, sewn together with the electricity of love and art sick camaraderie. And then look at my art.. It's goddamn prophetic : : : "I Love You Panzon" 2006, acrylic on canvas "Hollywood" 2005, acrylic on cardboard "Observing Bazille", 2005, charcoal and conte crayon on paper "Two" 2006, acrylic on canvas "Observing Rubens" 2006, charcoal and conte crayon on paper "Poezia" 2006, acrylic on canvas "Little Sister" 2006, charcoal and conte crayon on paper "Sleep" 2006, acrylic on masonite "Legs" 2005, charcoal on paper .. "One" 2005, watercolor and ink on paper "Observing Cezanne" 2006, charcoal and conte crayon on paper "Human" 2005, watercolor and ink on paper "Another Poem" 2006, charcoal on paper "Face Me" 2006, acrylic and spray paint on found masonite "Another Face" 2005, charcoal on paper "Bukowski" 2006, acrylic on paper "Blue" 2005, acrylic on canvas "Wait", 2005, acrylic on canvas "Self-Portrait" 2005, charcoal on paper "Liberation" 2004, found object assemblage, paper mache, acrylic, spraypaint
Don't have one...How's about records, books, and human beings instead?
: : My Family : : : : My Teachers : : "You are a part of history and history is a part of you...we struggle for social justice, therefore we are." Professor Carlos Ugalde"Authentic liberation, the process of humanization, is not another deposit to be made in men. Liberation is a Praxis: the action and reflection of men and women upon their world in order to transform it. Those truely committed to the cause of liberation can accept neither the mechanistic concept of consciousness as an empty vessel to be filled, nor the use of banking methods of domination in the name of liberation... [adopt] a concept of women and men as conscious beings, and consciousness as consciousness intent upon the world...consciousness as consciousness of consciousness." Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, 1970"Revolutionary man must be a contigent being, unjustifiable but free, entirely immersed in the society that oppresses him, but capable of transcending this society by his effort to change it. Idealism mystifies him in that it binds him by rights and values that are already given; it conceals from him his power to devise roads of his own. But materialism also mystifies him, by depriving him of his freedom. The revolutionary philosophy must be a philosophy of transcendence." Jean Paul Sarte, Partisan Review"They are so damn 'intellectual' and rotten that I can't stand them anymore....I [would] rather sit on the floor in the market of Toluca and sell tortillas, than have anything to do with those 'artistic' bitches of Paris." Frida Kahlo on Andre Breton and the European surrealists. Mother's love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved. Erich Fromm"If the workers of the world want to win, all they have to do is recognize their own solidarity. They have nothing to do but fold their arms and the world will stop. The workers are more powerful with their hands in their pockets than all the property of the capitalists." -Joseph Ettor, IWW Organizer"A writer is not a confectioner, a cosmetic dealer, or an entertainer. He is a man who has signed a contract with his conscious and his sense of duty." Anton Chekhov (1860 - 1904)"Art cannot be modern. Art is primordially eternal." Egon Schiele"No real social change has ever been brought about without a revolution... revolution is but thought carried into action." Emma Goldman"He can who thinks he can, and he can't who thinks he can't. This is an inexorable, indisputable law." Pablo Picasso"Revolutionary...because we are conscious... because we want change...Clandestine...because we don't suit the government... Indigenous ... [because] we feel that we have the capacity to direct our own future...Committee because we are [organized] in collectives...We seek not to seize power but to exercise it." Subcomandante Marcos, EZLN"The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That's what poetry does." Allen Ginsberg"At first bite, Mexico lost Texass. Now the US has all Mexico on its plate. In Chapultepec Castle, Mexican cadets, practically children, do not surrender. They resist the bombardment with an obstinacy not born of hope. Stones collapse over their bodies. Among the stones, the winners plant the stars & stripes, which rises from the smoke over the huge valley. The conquerors enter the capital. The city of Mexico: eight engineers, 2,000 monks, 2,500 lawyers, 20,000 beggars. The people, huddled together, growl. From the roofs, it rains stones." Eduardo Galeano, Faces & Masks"Truth exists, only falsehood has to be invented." Georges Braque"Do not romanticize the poor...We are all people, human beings subject to the same temptations and faults as all others. Our poverty damages our dignity." Cesar Chavez"We poets hate hate & make war on war." Pablo Neruda "The most heroic word in all languages is revolution...I have no country to fight for; my country is the earth, and I am a citizen of the world." Eugene V. Debs, Socialist Party Leader & Organizer, Chicago "At the risk of sounding ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love." Ernesto 'Che' Guevera"I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me nave or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman." Anais Nin