ARTDOXA blog

Blue Midnight

Peter — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 19:34:36 +0000

“I was the victim of a series of accidents.”

– Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan

Television, at low doses

around midnight

& it is only my heart.

I worry.

I am.

The shadow people are not something new.

Bubbling slowly,

the movie’s become extremely oblique.

I felt I had to see this.

How do I take it?

I wonder.

Is this - knowing my body?

My body, it feels that very vein.

…

& then a movement - no -

another attempt to get up

& everytime I 2nd - guess

will you see through this?

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Check this out: “Mississippi Fred” McDowell - Going Down to the River

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TyzAAwJnIw

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So, Why Am I Two Again?

Peter — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 01:33:06 +0000

(from Dissociative Fugue #2)

“Truth must be necessarily stranger than fiction, for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to it.”

– Gilbert K. Chesterton

so, why am I two again ?

I am this

& from across the room

I am that

I am not the microwave

but I could be an object

it has become apparent

I has become an object

that first begins to feel

so, eye shake my head

& I experience nothing

& eye work at a factory

turn off the television!

two occasions before -

grey wall appear to be

breathing slowly down

my neck at low doses -

I hear voices - - - - - - - -

they are moths - - - - - -

& I can feel ant life - - -

I know cotton now - - -

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Mind-Body Machine

Peter — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 20:19:23 +0000

A work is never completed except by some accident such as weariness, satisfaction, the need to deliver, or death: for, in relation to who or what is making it, it can only be one stage in a series of inner transformations.

– Paul Valéry

these pure

street ballads

of terror & grief/

brain entrepreneurs’

personal dream view of

mind-body machine games/ it

comes easy to humans to benign

comedies that tease & bluff: immoral,

but you like damage & you don’t want to look

at macabre conundrums too long & you seem to

need a break or two: a clear picture of a changeable face

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Head Film Noir #4

Peter — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 21:52:06 +0000

Whether he’s an artist or not, the photographer is a joyous sensualist, for the simple reason that the eye travels in feelings, not in thoughts.

– Walker Evans

can’t ignore a midnight audience that relaxes

by hindsight/ & losing five from time to time/

& Mad Poet’s directing a script by someone’s

divine intervention/ by midnight mood & dark

jokes/ revised by mr. special fx & dr. be early/

convincing close-up & vertiginous dolly zoom/

he’s holding better when you watch it a second

time/ & she’s that special she cooks up stories

like what’s about to appear to him/ but nobody

is listening - - -

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Relaunch of ARTDOXA

admin — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 15:35:27 +0000

Dear Members,

we are proud to present the all new independent state of art:

PURE NEW LOOK

We cleaned up a lot – less is more. Our latest ideas, experiences and developments have merged to present your artwork the way it deserves: in the center of attention.

ARTDOXA – YOUR WEBSITE

Use the new clear-cut layout of our platform like your own website with unlimited high res images and all features for free under: artdoxa.com/yourname.

MEMBER´S FAVORITE OF THE DAY

The artwork with the highest score of favorites within the last 50 days will be featured on the home page (one artwork per artist during this period): everybody is a curator.We hope you will enjoy and post contemporary art like never before!

All the best,

ARTDOXA team

Jenfeld Random Factor #2

Peter — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 22:51:52 +0000

Art is a localized illness, usually benign - creative people tend to live a long time - sometimes terribly malignant.

– Stephen King, Night Shift

skip to/

our next hero artiste under Babylon rooftops/

her greatest performance in the necrotic flesh,

dropping like leaves philosophical statements/

she always with he/ & staging the Muse as male

lead/ indifferent in this eccentric red romance/

& exhausting too - the original emotional kicks/

the agonizing transformation of ennui into art -

cerebral horrors do work a handful of deep fools! -

quiet, solitary minds, w/out warning, funky, like,

they’re at lofty-minded plays somewhere beyond,

always - - -

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Shadow People

Peter — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 21:50:11 +0000

“Mistah Kurtz - he dead.”

– Joseph Conrad, The Heart of Darkness

one night of dissociative robotripping -

ghost saxophone played far-off -

brainscape ghost town spectres -

& I’m being treated to a soft illusion:

***

I’m leaving behind conflicted subcon

issues - memory going forward to fall

back into a reverie: a hostile fire of

random recollections, faces & pain,

***

brought sudden violent relief - absurd,

farcical relief & my soul felt the weight

of my fatal space-time nexus lift & now

I am travelling light in the vast depths

***

of my subconscious - but the shadow

people keep lurking in odd corners,

warped angles, stubborn & resentful

(fade out static hiss of brain-chatter)

***

& now they’re closing in slowly

there’s no exit, no hiding place -

& they keep on chanting :

Hope we don’t get caught!

HOPE WE DON’T GET CAUGHT!

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The Rhyme of the Ancient Space Mariner #4

Peter — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 22:27:02 +0000

“All of us seem to come equipped with filters on the floors of our mind, and all the filters having different sizes and meshes. What catches in my filter may run right through yours. What catches in yours may pass through mine, no sweat.”

– Stephen King, Night Shift

11/05/2088

“Don’t know, ma’ am, I’m anti-matter to the point of firearms. Back on my feet in concrete.”

Something in his tone made two. Said he’d have to phone off his feet? First, two men had come tight - & Kolya was certainly odd, Todd thought. And The Man was nobody’s fool.

“Can I have a ride then a hundred years back?”

The prestupnik grinned.

“Old records, ma’am. But I have to wait for if the father’s visited upon.”

Todd nodded. The three cameromised third generation. With pilot bags of the kind that air-scare? Not Jorge - & cut out the wait at the Sputnik Motel, talking to pay!

“I can’t tell you nothing. The Man see no justification for it - no into the edge of a door.”

His head.

“Just the address,” Todd said.

Information - but it was difficult. Nobody would come to ask her.

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Head Film Noir #3

Peter — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 21:58:39 +0000

“Not intelligence, not reflection over the ways in which phenomena arise and cohere, but affect is the creator of mythological thought.”

– Wilhelm Wundt, Elemente der Völkerpsychologie (1913)

mental abberations resume

control: a sense of back time,

of earth vapors & the clouds

###

grinding darkness passed

over Babylonian rooftops,

settling on chrome & neon

###

& neurotic flotsam - rising

on the surface of my mind

& I’m falling prey again to

###

adenoidal attention set in,

unbearable intimations

& the usual array of angst -

###

of self-loathing, confusion,

of invasion of brain space

& the shallow nitrous sky

###

casting shadows about -

mind-sound like music,

a dry hypnotic dirge sung

###

in the distance - I seek

escape so for a minute

I phase into the fugue:

odd corners, warped angles -

a twilit tunnel & a dale of graves -

a sphere where humans don’t belong

& my tongue & hands feel foreign somehow

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The Rhyme of the Ancient Space Mariner #3

Peter — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 13:42:32 +0000

“Ah, qu’ as tu fait avec ta jeunesse!”

– Baudelaire

27/03/2088

Todd was dumbfounded.

The Bierce case? It seemed uncon.

It must have been Jorge, miling a little,

like the over-confident Todd herself,

who had put the announcements in echoes!

Precaution? Possible.

Still no conceivable reasoning in from La Pensée,

& Vostok was hit by random parties of small white craft,

striving to see how any of them could epitomize desaster.

The words space & time, eclipse & infiltration:

That, she thought, walking off briskly across the launch pad,

is where they’ll be wondering when.

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