Archive for fear

Sunglasses Bedevil

Posted in Art, projects with tags , , , , on April 10, 2009 by darcyarts

I’m nearly finished putting together my Joey Ramone.

joeyfullMy original plan and sketch crawls for Joey to be wearing orangey-brown shades.

I have to experiment with a see-through, probably water color wash over the where the lens would be.

But, I have to get it right the first time.

I’ll try it on paper, over the colors I’ve got there and white.

Ah, yes.

sunglasscolor

I think I’ve got it. The color on the top should work. The brush I’m using spread it onto water color paper very smoothly. Maybe I’ll try it on a test board with a gesso surface.

The gesso repelled it a bit. Yikes. Will it be different over the acrylic paints?

Stay tuned.

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Don’t Hate On Love

Posted in esoterica, socialization, writing with tags , , , on November 1, 2008 by darcyarts

I had just pulled into a parking space at Raley’s. I was going to check out the weinermobile. A bright shiny new version of the one the oldsters among us will remember from our childhood.

The Weinermoble attendents, gregarious girls on a marathon weinie tour, were handing out glow-in-the-dark weinie whistles. First, though, they made you sing the Oscar Mayer weinie song, raise your hands in the air and dance a little jig.

Normally, I would have enjoyed the chance to sing and dance a jig but the weinie whistles were defintely undersize and I was feeling really brought down by the woman who had been in the parking space next to me.

She had unpacked an infant. Got the child, in its carrier-style car seat, safely into a grocery cart and then strolled closer to the massive orange and yellow schlong-shaped vehicle.

I had noticed a Yes on 8 sticker on the back of her mini van. It was like a slap on the face.

Here was a woman who had newly experienced the miracle of family. She was someone who was probably secure in a marriage, just starting to grow a clan of her own, yet she felt entitled, probably because of her religious beliefs, to deny that same security and feeling of familial warmth and love to others.

Because of a fear enplanted in her by teachings, probably labeled Christian, she can’t deal with ever having to explain to her young children that two men or two women can truly love one another because they are human and that is what humans do.

 The inspiration for those teachings originated in the actions, long ago, of a radical man. He railed against the beliefs of his times. From what I’ve read he advocated the over-throw of all forms of restraint and enslavement — family, money, government, old superstitious religious beliefs.

He told people that they, like he, possessed the power and spirit of god within themselves. All beings are worthy and are united in that inner spiritual empowerment. Because of this unification in the spirit he claimed that whatever mistreatment, callousness or acts of hate were enacted on others were also done to him (and to the whole of humanity). 

Hell, he was attended to by a earnest collection of male groupies who loved him desperately.

Over all these years between the time when a radical Jesus walked the earth and talked about real power and spirit and empathy and now, when powermongering religious leader relay a distorted version of Christianity to their acquisitive, judgemental fold, we have lost that meaning –> be radical and true and dare to love one another and accept everyone because they are just as righteous in the eyes of the spirit. That loss makes me so sad. 

Love and acceptance, the vision of the whole of us as holy, that is the most powerful thing that we can give.

Those who vote Yes on 8 are voting to deny the pleasure of officially sanctioned, legally protected marriage to other human beings.

Christians, or any other religious group that oppose marriage between same sex partners are tamping down the blossom of LOVE and Would they not agree that GOD is LOVE?

That little child in the carrier may grow up to be gay, mom. Where is your heart? What would Jesus do?

Would he accept your gay child into his loving arms?

Allen Ginsberg got it. He embraced all of humanity if not physically (though he did get around) then, for sure, metaphysically.

I invoke Allen Ginsberg’s poem Howl. It is radical and full of love for all of humanity.

From Howl wiki: The closing section of the poem is the “Footnote”, characterized by its repetitive ‘Holy!’ mantra, an ecstatic assertion that everything is holy. It can be read as the antithesis of Part II. Ginsberg says, “I remembered the archetypal rhythm of Holy Holy Holy weeping in a bus on Kearny Street, and wrote most of it down in notebook there … I set it as Footnote to Howl because it was an extra variation of the form of Part II”.[4]

Disclaimer: This poem was officially determined to NOT BE PORNOGRAPHIC by a court of the United States.

Footnote To Howl

Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy!
The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand
and asshole holy!
Everything is holy! everybody’s holy! everywhere is
holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman’s an
angel!
The bum’s as holy as the seraphim! the madman is
holy as you my soul are holy!
The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is
holy the hearers are holy the ecstasy is holy!
Holy Peter holy Allen holy Solomon holy Lucien holy
Kerouac holy Huncke holy Burroughs holy Cas-
sady holy the unknown buggered and suffering
beggars holy the hideous human angels!
Holy my mother in the insane asylum! Holy the cocks
of the grandfathers of Kansas!
Holy the groaning saxophone! Holy the bop
apocalypse! Holy the jazzbands marijuana
hipsters peace & junk & drums!
Holy the solitudes of skyscrapers and pavements! Holy
the cafeterias filled with the millions! Holy the
mysterious rivers of tears under the streets!
Holy the lone juggernaut! Holy the vast lamb of the
middle class! Holy the crazy shepherds of rebell-
ion! Who digs Los Angeles IS Los Angeles!
Holy New York Holy San Francisco Holy Peoria &
Seattle Holy Paris Holy Tangiers Holy Moscow
Holy Istanbul!
Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy the
clocks in space holy the fourth dimension holy
the fifth International holy the Angel in Moloch!
Holy the sea holy the desert holy the railroad holy the
locomotive holy the visions holy the hallucina-
tions holy the miracles holy the eyeball holy the
abyss!
Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours!
bodies! suffering! magnanimity!
Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent
kindness of the soul!

 The entire text of Howl and a recording of Ginsberg reading it are here.

       More Ginsberg poems.

Tag Response: 6 Random Things About Me

Posted in Art, dreams, etsy, music with tags , , , , , , , on October 12, 2008 by darcyarts

Here is the latest blog entry from my artist, writer friend Nikki Kallio.

She said: “Last month I was tagged by my friend over at Greg’s Plate to tell you six random things about me and then tag some other bloggers. Well, better late than ‘Screw you! I’m not doing it!’ ”

See Nikki’s interesting half a dozen on her blog Purple Houses.

She ends the blog entry this way: “Let’s see… I’ll tag Nita, Candace, Constance,
Christina, Teri, and Jakob. “

I accept the “6 random things” challenge though I feel, deep down in my soul, that my blog posts have revealed a shite-load of random things about me.

1. Between the ages of 30 and 40 I dyed my hair just about every color in existence. I settled on red before I let it go gray/white. I had black hair for the time it took me to drive to the store and buy bleach. Not a good color for me.

2. My father, who did not raise me, was arrested and made the L.A. newspapers for a drunken, unoriginal threat to kill the president. I am unsure of the time frame. Sometimes radical bullshit backfires.

3. Sometime during elementary school my “friend” Connie Grater told me that boys had periods, too. She said the blood came out of their butts.

4. As a very young child I was afraid of the dog puppet Farfel used in the commercial for Nestle’s Quick. It was the way the large curled mouth clapped shut after Farfel said his one-word line: “Choc-lit!!”

5. I feel the songs of these bands so intensely that it bring tears to my eyes: Queens of the Stone Age (almost anything from Lullabies to Paralyze, especially Tangled Up in Plaid and I Never Came), Love (And More Again and many more), Quicksilver Messenger Service (Mona/Maiden of the Cancer Moon), Jefferson Airplane (Saturday Afternoon, Coming Back to Me), Brian Jonestown Massacre (Space Girl), Tim Buckley (Dream Letter, Sefronia, The Earth is Broken).

6. I believe Turquoise is a color that should be used sparingly.

I won’t be able to tag six others. Gotta go off to to the factory.

The best thing about yesterday, Saturday, was agreeing to a trade with the mighty NB and in a separate realm hearing the phrase “meat bee” repeatedly.

I want to start a comic starring Meat Bees!

This is NB’s one-eyed Jack which I covet.

He has the coolest accessories and personalized art.

He makes cool doggie earrings, too.

Check it out.

I had a dream last night that Rachel Maddow’s girlfriend was trying to tempt me into having a thing with her.

I was horrified at the thought of Rachel’s girlfriend cheating on her and possibly causing Rachel pain.

It was hard to resist the girlfriend, though.

Does that mean my vague lesbian alter-ego is butch?

Later in dreams I discovered these really cool rope swings attached to ceiling beams in a room where I lived. The ropes seems to be attached to a tire or some base and they swung and twirled in a really cool way. I looked up at one point and saw that the ropes grazed an old fashioned ceiling light cover, put little nicks in the edges but I still kept swinging.

Bill Hicks on Sunday Morning

Posted in Art, socialization, television, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on June 29, 2008 by darcyarts

This is Bill Hicks. He was a comedian who worked until 1994 when he died of pancreatic cancer.

His point of view was in stark contrast to that of his upbringing. He was raised in a southern Baptist home. His parents were good people but Bill just wasn’t having any of the close-minded dogma.

Love or Fear, Light or Darkness I agree that it really does all boil down to shining the light or extinguishing it.

Here are Bill’s last words to the public.

To those who are viewing this entry on a separate page:

Feel free to ignore these unsolicited “possibly related” blog suggestions below. This is a tacky addition from wordpress. Wonder if I can disable it.