Art and stuff

Friday night, Saturday morning - dancing, gurning, smiling. Excellent.

And in the morning there was a mixture of beauty and vomit - neither of which were mine. We'd had a good time - Mary paid for hers with shakes and vomiting.

I found beauty in everything and wanted to be inside and through everything and everyone - to be at every place in time all at once, to be so deeply immersed in life, joy, pain, death, fever, laughter.... to burst out of my skin and make love to the world.

I dreamed of art - a dozen images of photographs; clipshots of reality. Close-ups of confusion and my usual want for surreal images of flesh and the weather. Corners of mouths, just the folds of skin, the roots of hair, pebbles on the beach, elbows, eyes and ears.

I wanted to be infused with love and to give so much love - to burst out of my skin and let my spirit and soul blend and dance with the world. White clouds merge into the grey, shifting and blurring through the storm; the last leaves cling to trees torn by the sea-wind and freezing rain. A few herring gulls glide and plummet, swoop and steal flashes of light.

Just one mag-pie - "good morning Mr Magpie, hows your wife and kids?".... actually, there is a mag-pie and a crow, I wonder if that affects the ditty... one for sorrow, two (well and mag-pie and a crow) for an excellent Friday night.

I think that has made as much sense I as intended. Love and stuff. Px

When the light is watching over us

I went out walking after mid-night - sometimes I can only think in song lyrics.

A couple of things have happened to me today to touch me and fill me with some joy. One of them was a small "thank you" that I had almost let slip past without noticing - I'm so glad I saw it.

Its been cold today, winter coming in and the sea looked dark against the sullen sky - a contrast to the sunset last night that filled the horizon with reds and golds from the far west almost to the far east. I watched the sun set - telling my boys to listen to hear it hiss as it touched the sea.

Pxxxxx

Doors of perception - healing in 5 dimensions

It is a year now since I went on a journey into space, time and probability. Since then I have glimpsed the same journey again, but not made the trip.

We, a fellow traveller and I, met with a profit - she warned us the risks of our adventure, furnished us with fuel and wished us luck on the trip. We took the potion, creation's great delusion - a flower of death - and waited for time to take us into a journey into sound and vision... that was as far as I had thought we would go.

I became scared, feeling sick - colours and sound twisting around, couldn't deal with with low ceilings, the people or the lack of air. We went outside where the footpath and the road, the shops and all of reality breathed in and out - colours changing, pulsing, spinning. The ground moved, sinking with each step like walking on an elastic sheet. The shop windows were filled with magical goods - the footpath, like a conveyor, never ending our steps took us nowhere though we walked lots for eternity.

I was blinded in reality but colours so vivid filled my mind - every now and then I could see and fear the streets, the cars, trams, bikes, taxis, buses, water - how could we walk when we could not talk, or hear, or think. I had to sit, to try to sit and not vomit as I breathed the world in and out of my mind like smoke.

We sat, transfixed in amazement, joy and terror, and technicolor time tripped around and sound danced spiral, paisley, patterns in the sunshine of the past and the future. People passed, echos of reality, looking in, looking on, passing by.

What have you done? what have you done? Time began to play, life passing by - all my past, present and future as vivid as day; a crystal clear, holographic encounter with my soul - laid bare on those streets, drooling - unable to sit, loosing the ability to breath.

Time turning, playing again, running to its ultimate, darkening, shrinking, freezing, stultifying, inescapable death. I shut my eyes, surrendered to the void, embraced death in fear, loss and horror.

Through a void, a compression of reality, through time and back to the start - this vision played again while my loved ones watched: calling "what have you done, oh no, what have you done" looking at me, vegetating, calling "what have you done" - my journey through time repeated again and again - though I may have died many times before I realised that this was happening.

As time continued, repeating, running fast, the snap-shot of life grew smaller until I could see life, time, reality, in its true state. Everything was a matter of an increasingly small, timeless nothing - repeating, repeating, repeating - the only speck of reality, siluetted, in an endless, timeless, dimensionless, void of improbability.

Everything was, as it always had to be, nothing. Nothing - life - ran faster, faster, faster. A vacuum eating a vacuum eating a vacuum - all of everything turning inside out at each and every point at the same time.

So cold, so lost, so trapped - a turmoil of ultimate fear.

So, we sat - heads full of universes, visions unimaginable but nonetheless imagined into reality. We span and shivered all through the night while all about us - through doorways into the madness, reality poked, drunken, violent, accusing, staring.

And - after hours we walked - me blind to any reality, colours spinning four dimensional spiders webs of fractals.

I'm not sure now how much good or bad that night caused me.

I do know that I was pleased to feel the streets beneath my feet and to feel warmth in my clothes - to see again and to hear. I am wiser for the journey and pleased to have returned to life however much I know, as I guess we all do, that life is no more real than that which we perceive and what we perceive is merely a snippet of time - dust on the window of a train from here to infinity.

Love and stuff, P