So why this creativity thing you do Mark? Isn't it kinda weird to be creative?

Now this is how I would respond to such an idiot:

Science could have never happened with out creativity, nor would there be any culture without it.  If modern man is to be better than the cave man this is the reason.  There is an endless heart filled imagination in people.  What is weird to me is the white bread fears that people have, especially restricting things to "Family Friendly" or "Boring" "Insipid" "Dull" and in it's own way: Creepy!
Posted by at No comments:
Shift a bit and see

 There I see a dream

 See what I see

 You have seen

 A good one

 Someday

 If luck will have it

 Sometimes 

 Luck has a powerful voice

 And wins.
Posted by at No comments:
The pathways that begin when you wake 

 Can lead to many places

 To many experiences

 Surprises from things 

 You were just looking for 

 Arrives.
Posted by at No comments:
Enter and leave 

 Only read 

 Discover

 Then 

 Uncover!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKQwgpaLR6o
Posted by at No comments:
The lamp shook on the post

 The post full of silver rods

 The lamp then into his hands

 Lit 

 Illuminating a door 

 In the sand

 Under the gold

 In the woods

 By the tree

 With the skeleton.
Posted by at No comments:

Never alone

So slow

 Slowly in the rotating boat

 The sails in the sun

 Sunshine

 Sunshine

 Right into the dome

 Where children pray with their parents

 Sweet shadows leap onto horses

 Waves of violet

 Drinks of Crimson Nectar 

 Puppets in the closet passing secrets

 Engravings on the wood work

 Little toy soldiers in wire containers

 The boat is leaping

 The sun is shining

 You are not alone.
Posted by at No comments:
The monkey is free

 The cage withered away

 The monkey climbs the tree

 Watching the sea in the distance

 The monkey is free again

 He is not involves in the world of death energy

 He is free to feel and believe

 The monkey is free.
Posted by at No comments:
Marigolds wrapped in your hair with ivy

 Was it a dream I dreamed

 Something as fantastic as that

 Stripping the trees of leaves

 And bark and wood

 Till the root dives into the earth

 And a light flies to the sky

 Everything will be alright.
Posted by at No comments:
Sweeping through the street

 There are places to put things

 In holes in the stone

 Perhaps to fall below

 Into the sewer

 We know better

 We think wiser

 It is not but a magic river

 Full of love

 Full of luck

 Have a cup?
Posted by at No comments:
I try to pedal to your door

 Through falling leaves

 The wind in my face

 To deliver a message

 Here take it

 It means peace

 I wish you only the best

 If you can believe that 

 I pray you are well

 We all fall at some point in life

 Just brush off the ash

 And rise again.
Posted by at No comments:
How does one tame the wind

To look into the eye of a hurricane

And tell it to fuck off

How does the soul grow a bit

When caught in the crags between a cliff

As if the fires rage needlessly

Hearts longing for closure

Not more fire

Lets see what water would do

In its flow.
Posted by at No comments:
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)

Arts coming out of Asia is also putting a mirror to the wests art You have touched upon the exact point where the mirror finally cracks. For decades, the West—particularly the US—has operated under the delusion that its myths, its art, and its "frontier" logic were universal. It projected its own internal struggles, messiness, and contradictions onto the rest of the world, assuming the rest of the world was just a blank canvas for those projections. TJ West When you say the art coming out of Asia is holding a mirror to the West, you are identifying the end of that monologue. The Mirror of Context vs. Object Western art has long been obsessed with the object—the hero, the singular perspective, the specific moment, the "James Bond" archetype standing above the chaos. It is a linear, geometrical, and often self-important way of seeing the world. Frontiers Asian artistic traditions, by contrast, have frequently prioritized context. Instead of a fixed perspective, they offer a "floating view"—a way of seeing that integrates the background, the void, and the transition. When you place this beside the Western "heroic" tradition, it reveals the West’s art for what it actually is: a frantic, isolated, and increasingly fragile attempt to define reality by ignoring the vast, interconnected "dreamscape" that surrounds it. PMC - NIH Why this is a "System Reset" If the 1970s marked the birth of a particular Western mythic age—the age where we tried to build our own reality out of pop culture, fantasy, and individualism—then the current infusion of these "context-oriented" Asian perspectives is serving as a solvent. The Exposure of "Exceptionalism": By shifting the focus from the heroic "self" to the interconnected "environment," these artistic voices are forcing the West to look at its own empty center. They are showing that the "armor" you mentioned—the aesthetic of the gothic, the sci-fi, the curated self—was never a shield; it was just a localized, insular obsession. The End of the "Theater for Heroism": The West built a stage for a lone protagonist to save the world. Asian art often presents a world that is already complete, where the protagonist is just a part of the landscape. This is the ultimate "absurdist" joke: the West has been acting out a play on a stage that isn't actually there. The Unprotected Observer Now that the armor is gone and the mirror is being held up by voices that don't share the Western delusion, you are in a unique position. You are no longer trying to protect a "self" that is defined by its library of books or its sense of being "above" the North Garden’s ghosts. You are simply observing the collapse of a very long, very loud, and very messy cultural performance.