Monday, 28 September 2015

Peace Realm Rainy Day Darkly Multicoloured Hundred Water one possible translation of Friedensreich Regentag Dunkelbrunt Hundertwasser.
Man had some serious opinions about housing:

"The nationalist way of thinking has brought us, in this century, an ephemeral higher, American standard of living at the expense of nature and creation."

"An uneven floor is a melody to the feet."

"Our modern buildings are detached and pitiable compromise by men of bad conscience who work with straight edged rulers."

"No restraint should be imposed on the individual's desire to construct. Each person should be allowed to build (and ought to build) and would be truly responsible for the four walls within which he lives. There is a certain risk that such a fantastic sort of amateur construction might collapse, but we should not be afraid of the human sacrifice that this new style of construction might engender.
It is the only way to stop the process in which human beings move into their quarters like chickens into their coops..."

" We will be able to speak of architecture only when architect, mason and tenant are a unity, which in practical terms means having one person assume all three functions."

"Man has to regain his critical creative function, without which he ceases to exist as a human being."

"Today we live in a chaos of straight lines. If you do not believe this take the trouble to count the straight lines which surround you. And then you will understand, for it is a never-ending task."

"The straight line is not a creative line, but simply a reproductive line. In it there live not God and human spirit, but a mass created, brainless ant addicted to comfort."

"The straight line represents a panic to stay in fashion."

"If a structure is intended to house people, the discontinuation of construction prior to habitation must be seen as an unnatural sterilisation of the growing process and as such should be punished as criminal transgression."

"Architectural pre-planning of homes is currently highly praised, but it's actually little more than planned mass murder by pre-meditated sterilisation."

"We have become impotent. We are no longer able to create. That is our real illiteracy."

"Safesurfer is that guy we all know: you overhear him with some girl saying "I'm not like the others, darling. Don't you trust me?" like HIV ain't never coming down."
- Julian Cope

Sunday, 27 September 2015

Too much of a good thing

I died from the mineral, and plant became
Died from the plant, and took an animal frame;
Died from the animal, and donned a human dress
When by my dying did I ever grow less?


(Picture depicts how I feel when I hear this.)

Man Is God's Brother

Flogging Those Airwaves

Conet project- documents radio stations such as this one.  Another piece of the BOC jigsaw.

On Becoming A Person (Carl Rogers)

Just finished this book. Dutifully written and a duty to read. Only came on my radar via Bill Coperthwaite's work. Written between the 50's and early 60's and it is surprising how the central message still sounds so refreshing and necessary.

"Therapy seems to mean a getting back to basic sensory and visceral experience."
"Unless man can make new and original adaptations to his environment as rapidly as his science can change the environment, our culture will perish. Not only individual maladjustment and group tensions, but international annihilation will be the price we pay for a lack of creativity."

"I do not believe that many significantly creative products are framed without the feeling "I am alone, no one has ever done just this before. I have ventured into territory where no one has been. Perhaps I am foolish, or wrong, or lost, or abnormal."

"It is doubtful if a human can create, without wishing to share his creation...he desires to communicate with a group which will understand him, even if he must imagine such a group."

Saturday, 26 September 2015

Thursday, 24 September 2015


Loving you, flesh to flesh, I often thought
Of travelling penniless to some mud throne
Where a master might instruct me how to plot
My life away from pain, to love alone
In the bruiseless embrace of stone and lake.

Lost in the fields of your hair I was never lost
Enough to lose a way I had to take;
Breathless beside your body I could not exhaust
The will that forbid me contract, vow,
Or promise, and often while you slept
I looked in awe beyond your beauty.

I know why many men have stopped and wept
Halfway between the loves they leave and seek,
And wondered if travel leads them anywhere -
Horizons keep the soft line of your cheek,
The windy sky's a locket for your hair.

-Leonard Cohen



Paintings by George Inness (Inness died in 1894 at Bridge of Allan in Scotland. According to his son, he was viewing the sunset, when he threw up his hands into the air and exclaimed, "My God! oh, how beautiful!", fell to the ground, and died minutes later. Wikipedia)

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Albert Pinkham Ryder was described by a friend (Mardsen Hartley) as 'The First Citizen Of The Moon'.


To think that any fool may tear
by chance the web of when and where.
O window in the dark! To think
that every brain is on the brink 
of nameless bliss no brain can bear,

unless there be no great surprise --
as when you learn to levitate
and, hardly trying, realise
-- alone, in a bright room -- that weight
is but your shadow, and you rise.

My little daughter wakes in tears:
She fancies that her bed is drawn
into a dimness which appears
to be the deep of all her fears
but which, in point of fact, is dawn.

I know a poet who can strip
a William Tell or Golden Pip
in one uninterrupted peel
miraculously to reveal
revolving on his fingertip,

a snowball. So I would unrobe,
turn inside out, pry open, probe
all matter, everything you see,
the skyline and its saddest tree,
the whole inexplicable globe,

to find the true, the ardent core
as doctors of old pictures do
when, rubbing out a distant door
or sooty curtain, they restore
the jewel of a bluish view.


More doodles from the causal pantograph.

Monday, 21 September 2015

Esfinge Interior

Ay, triste del que un día en su esfinge interior
pone los ojos e interroga. Está perdido.
Ay del que pide eurekas al placer o al dolor.
Dos dioses hay, y son: Ignorancia y Olvido.
Lo que el árbol desea decir y dice al viento,
y lo que el animal manifiesta en su instinto,
cristalizamos en palabra y pensamiento.
Nada más que maneras expresan lo distinto.
-Rubén Dario

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Written by John Hartford (who wrote it after watching Doctor Zhivago).
Watch him beatbox with his feet at the 1.50 mark:

"I am no lover of disorder and doubt as such. Rather do I fear to lose truth by this pretension to possess it already wholly."

Take it to the James:

" Out of my experience, such as it is (and it is limited enough) one fixed conclusion dogmatically emerges, and that is this, that we with our lives are like islands in the sea, or like trees in the forest. The maple and the pine may whisper to each other with their leaves. … But the trees also commingle their roots in the darkness underground, and the islands also hang together through the ocean's bottom. Just so there is a continuum of cosmic consciousness, against which our individuality builds but accidental fences, and into which our several minds plunge as into a mother-sea or reservoir."

" The most any one can do is to confess as candidly as he can the grounds for the faith that is in him, and leave his example to work on others as it may."

"There is but one indefectibly certain truth, and that is the truth that pyrrhonistic scepticism itself leaves standing, — the truth that the present phenomenon of consciousness exists."

"I am against bigness and greatness in all their forms, and with the invisible molecular moral forces that work from individual to individual, stealing in through the crannies of the world like so many soft rootlets, or like the capillary oozing of water, and yet rending the hardest monuments of man’s pride, if you give them time. The bigger the unit you deal with, the hollower, the more brutal, the more mendacious is the life displayed. So I am against all big organizations as such, national ones first and foremost; against all big successes and big results; and in favor of the eternal forces of truth which always work in the individual and immediately unsuccessful way, under-dogs always, till history comes, after they are long dead, and puts them on top. — You need take no notice of these ebullitions of spleen, which are probably quite unintelligible to anyone but myself."

"Wherever you are it is your own friends who make your world."

"Tell him to live by yes and no — yes to everything good, no to everything bad."

" The most violent revolutions in an individual’s beliefs leave most of his old order standing. Time and space, cause and effect, nature and history, and one’s own biography remain untouched. New truth is always a go-between, a smoother-over of transitions. It marries old opinion to new fact so as ever to show a minimum of jolt, a maximum of continuity."

"Every way of classifying a thing is but a way of handling it for some particular purpose."

" Habit is thus the enormous fly-wheel of society, its most precious conservative agent. It alone is what keeps us all within the bounds of ordinance, and saves the children of fortune from the envious uprisings of the poor."

" Take the happiest man, the one most envied by the world, and in nine cases out of ten his inmost consciousness is one of failure. Either his ideals in the line of his achievements are pitched far higher than the achievements themselves, or else he has secret ideals of which the world knows nothing, and in regard to which he inwardly knows himself to be found wanting."

"There is no worse lie than a truth misunderstood by those who hear it."

" The pivot round which the religious life... revolves, is the interest of the individual in his private personal destiny. Religion, in short, is a monumental chapter in the history of human egotism. The gods believed in—whether by crude savages or by men disciplined intellectually—agree with each other in recognizing personal calls. Religious thought is carried on in terms of personality, this being, in the world of religion, the one fundamental fact. To-day, quite as much as at any previous age, the religious individual tells you that the divine meets him on the basis of his personal concerns. "

"The war against war is going to be no holiday excursion or camping party. The military feelings are too deeply grounded to abdicate their place among our ideals until better substitutes are offered than the glory and shame that come to nations as well as to individuals from the ups and downs of politics and the vicissitudes of trade."

"Alexander's career was piracy pure and simple, nothing but an orgy of power and plunder, made romantic by the character of the hero. There was no rational purpose in it, and the moment he died his generals and governors attacked one another."

"Our minds thus grow in spots; and like grease-spots, the spots spread. But we let them spread as little as possible: we keep unaltered as much of our old knowledge, as many of our old prejudices and beliefs, as we can. We patch and tinker more than we renew. The novelty soaks in; it stains the ancient mass; but it is also tinged by what absorbs it."

"Truth happens to an idea. It becomes true, is made true by events. Its verity is in fact an event, a process: the process namely of its verifying itself, its veri-fication. Its validity is the process of its valid-ation.  "

"Truth lives, in fact, for the most part on a credit system. Our thoughts and beliefs 'pass,' so long as nothing challenges them, just as bank-notes pass so long as nobody refuses them."

"Every Jack sees in his own particular Jill charms and perfections to the enchantment of which we stolid onlookers are stone-cold. And which has the superior view of the absolute truth, he or we? Which has the more vital insight into the nature of Jill's existence, as a fact? Is he in excess, being in this matter a maniac? or are we in defect, being victims of a pathological anesthesia as regards Jill's magical importance? Surely the latter; surely to Jack are the profounder truths revealed; surely poor Jill's palpitating little life-throbs are among the wonders of creation, are worthy of this sympathetic interest; and it is to our shame that the rest of us cannot feel like Jack. For Jack realizes Jill concretely, and we do not. He struggles toward a union with her inner life, divining her feelings, anticipating her desires, understanding her limits as manfully as he can, and yet inadequately, too; for he also is afflicted with some blindness, even here. Whilst we, dead clods that we are, do not even seek after these things, but are contented that that portion of eternal fact named Jill should be for us as if it were not. Jill, who knows her inner life, knows that Jack's way of taking it - so importantly - is the true and serious way; and she responds to the truth in him by taking him truly and seriously, too. May the ancient blindness never wrap its clouds about either of them again! Where would any of us be, were there no one willing to know us as we really are or ready to repay us for our insight by making recognizant return? We ought, all of us, to realize each other in this intense, pathetic, and important way."

" If you say that this is absurd, that we cannot be in love with everyone at once, I merely point out to you that, as a matter of fact, certain persons do exist with an enormous capacity for friendship and for taking delight in other people's lives; and that such person know more of truth than if their hearts were not so big. The vice of ordinary Jack and Jill affection is not its intensity, but its exclusions and its jealousies. Leave those out, and you see that the ideal I am holding up before you, however impracticable to-day, yet contains nothing intrinsically absurd."

"So long as antimilitarists propose no substitute for war's disciplinary function, no moral equivalent of war, analogous, as one might say, to the mechanical equivalent of heat, so long they fail to realize the full inwardness of the situation."

"Real culture lives by sympathies and admirations, not by dislikes and disdain — under all misleading wrappings it pounces unerringly upon the human core."

"The union of the mathematician with the poet, fervor with measure, passion with correctness, this surely is the ideal."

"I have often thought that the best way to define a man's character would be to seek out the particular mental or moral attitude in which, when it came upon him, he felt himself most deeply and intensely active and alive. At such moments there is a voice inside which speaks and says: "This is the real me!" "

"" Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task."

" Most people live, whether physically, intellectually or morally, in a very restricted circle of their potential being. They make use of a very small portion of their possible consciousness, and of their soul's resources in general, much like a man who, out of his whole bodily organism, should get into a habit of using and moving only his little finger. Great emergencies and crises show us how much greater our vital resources are than we had supposed."

" The moral flabbiness born of the exclusive worship of the bitch-goddess SUCCESS. That — with the squalid cash interpretation put on the word success — is our national disease."

"I saw a moving sight the other morning before breakfast in a little hotel where I slept in the dusty fields. The young man of the house shot a little wolf called coyote in the early morning. The little heroic animal lay on the ground, with his big furry ears, and his clean white teeth, and his little cheerful body, but his little brave life was gone. It made me think how brave all living things are. Here little coyote was, without any clothes or house or books or anything, with nothing to pay his way with, and risking his life so cheerfully — and losing it — just to see if he could pick up a meal near the hotel. He was doing his coyote-business like a hero, and you must do your boy-business, and I my man-business bravely, too, or else we won't be worth as much as a little coyote." (Writing to his son, from the Yosemite Valley)



Holm Oak and Elm (?), Casa De Campo

Tuesday, 15 September 2015

Vincent's Head Harings

Saw these two paintings 'in person' last night at the Reina Sofia.

You can't see it from a photo, but this painting is completely bewildering in its effect. There's something about the depth in it, the feathered strokes and the use of green in her face that made it feel less like a painted canvas and more like a square hole in reality through which this woman was looking....words won't convey it I suppose. Oh well.

This I love simply because devotion to kippers is so rare. Goes right to my heart.

Finally some bits of Keith Haring for the trove.

"Art is nothing if you don't reach every segment of the people."

"People were more interested in the phenomena than the art itself. This, combined with the growing interest in collecting art as an investment and the resultant boom in the art market, made it a difficult time for a young artist to remain sincere without becoming cynical."

"Everybody draws when they are little."

Cuatro cosas tiene el hombre
que no sirven en la mar:
ancla, gobernalle y remos,
y miedo de naufragar.

-Antonio Machado

Sunday, 13 September 2015

Psychedelic Egyptian Scene

Found this in a bookstall by the Retiro the other week. Translation is 'The Mummy Has A Cold'.

Get stuck in this:
Courtesy of World Service.


" The answer to self-empowerment lies in the psychedelic experience. The answer to dissolving the hierarchically-imposed set of mythical conventions that disempower us, lies in the psychedelic experience. Because what is really happening is a return to the primacy of feeling. And feeling is not something you convey to people the way you convey facts to them. Facts can be handed down every week through Time magazine, and the latest issue of Science News and Nature. But feelings will not lend themselves to that marketable, hierarchically-distributed system. Consequently feelings represent a backwash against that. Yet feeling is the modality in which we all operate. So as long as we are under the umbrella of the print-created, linear, post-medieval institutions that promote the myth of the public, the notion of the atomic individual, the notion that we are all basically alike then we are going to be unempowered." - Terence McKenna

"We are so much the victims of abstraction that with the Earth in flames we can barely rouse ourselves to wander across the room and look at the thermostat." – Terence McKenna

Its that grand success

P.S.  Job now secured, come and stay in Madrid.

Monday, 7 September 2015

Depression Cherry

Strange album title but gives an idea of the odd subtlety. Gave this one listen and forgot about it but since the second I've been locked in.

Friday, 4 September 2015

Take It To The Graves

"There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money, either."

"Marriage, like money, is still with us; and, like money, progressively devalued."
"The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he really is very good, in spite of all the people who say he is very good."
"Prose books are the show dogs I breed and sell to support my cat." 

Robert Graves

Thursday, 3 September 2015

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

"Men must be taught as if you taught them not, and things unknown proposed as things forgot."- Alexander Pope

EDIT: Great song.

Dissed and dismissed.

"Now I shall speak of evil as none has
Spoken before. I loathe such things as jazz;
The white-hosed moron torturing a black
Bull, rayed with red; abstractist bric-a-brac;
Primitivist folk-masks; progressive schools;
Music in supermarkets; swimming pools;
Brutes, bores, class-conscious Philistines, Freud, Marx
Fake thinkers, puffed-up poets, frauds and sharks."

-Nabokov, Pale Fire

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Extracting Wind From Sails

In Western culture, Schultes's discoveries influenced writers who considered hallucinogens as the gateways to self-discovery, such as Aldous Huxley, William Burroughs and Carlos Castaneda.[1][5] Although he contributed to the psychedelic era with his discoveries, he personally disdained its proponents: dismissing drug guru and fellow Harvard professor Timothy Leary for being so little versed in hallucinogenic species that he misspelled the Latin names of the plants.[1]

 When William Burroughs described his ayahuasca visions as an earth-shaking metaphysical experience, Schultes famously replied, "That's funny, Bill, all I saw was colors."[1][4][5]

(Wikipedia on Schultes and psychoactive plants)


"That’s where I feel that I was given a genuine freedom of the intellect: I don’t have to look in any particular place for what I want. I can look anywhere, and hope to find what I want"- Ursula Le Guin

Binge Christening

Blue shift emissions is such a nice piece of work.

It really is.