Monday, November 8, 2010

Well, here's a good point to pick up.

Gosh I haven't used this thing really since I got facebook. And whether or not I am going to delete it remains undetermined, though highly possible, I realize that if I am going to spend extra time everyday primping and priming myself as portrayed on the internet, I should at least use it more for something like this than Facebook. You know, EVERY SINGLE THING... not most things, but everything; every single word, picture, bit of information, and so on, is held within the memory of a super computer directly feeding from that website. There is no complete privacy... maybe from other users like yourself... but as for the owners of the companies and those who pay good money and invest quite well into this arena, including the sick bastards who run our country..well, they have full access to that shit just as they can tap our phones and records.

So anyway, I've spent the past week in the OHSU hospital.. and a good deal of time doing nothing but writing. I will have a lot to put into this blog over the next week... but in the mean time, I'd actually just like to post an assignment I did for an art class... it follows the same format of a famous poem called "I am for an Art."

I did this assignment under the direct pretense of this unfortunate condition. When you're writhing in pain for a week straight from a cave of a hospital room with dying people all about you in a half school/half medical facility full of contradictions on top of a mountain away from your loved ones and the true (and/or illusory) societal realities, it's hard not to seriously and honestly think about that which is most important to not only you, but your own health, and even the health of a public and it's consciousness.

I am for art which attempts to destroy anything against the pureness of expression.



I am for art that doesn’t limit the potential for communication; to go beyond the boundaries of language.



I am for art which grants me the time and space to observe my surroundings, environments (both static and tangible), and under a realistic pretense; not under the hyper-reality created by mankind.



I am for art that remains out of filthy and corrupted hands.



I am for art as lived experience.



I am for art that deviates from the naturalization of perception.



I am for art that keeps me thinking beyond the expectations of banalities and societal norms.



I am for art that can give grounds to revolution.



I am for art that attempts to dismantle the convolution s of everyday life.



I am for art that can sing you to sleep.



I am for art that can sing you awake.



I am for art that provokes the skepticism for all reason and truth.



I am for art that keeps me safe from my sane self and insane to others.



I am for art that teaches what words cannot.



I am for art that can be insurrectionary.



I am for art that can make disorder out of imposed order.



I am for art that exudes blood and guts.



I am for art that gives me the means to reflect on the evolution of a conscious person.



I am for art that can portray the absurd while exposing the falsity of the real.



I am for art largely as a contribution to my own social survival.



I am for art that may possibly reach even a single other person, even if I never physically do.



I am for art as an extension of one’s own consciousness.



I am for art that does not adhere to any systematic belief system or any system of strict governance.



I am for art that defines existence for an individual.



I am for art that can speak to a person, like a conversation with a stranger of whom you’ll never forget and may never meet again, and becomes an influential memory on the creation of that individual’s future existence yet to be unfolded.



I am for art as a weapon, not a commodity.



I am for art which sits in harmony with all of the beauty of nature and all of the wreckage of corruption.



I am for art that does not have a face, but has a soul.



I am for art that remains detached from its creator.



I am for art that can take on myriad meanings depending on the settings of which it is placed.



I am for art that disregards imperfections in a deliberate regards to disregard.



I am for art that does not completely take itself seriously while taking its potentiality with the utmost seriousness.



I am for art that is of the artists and not of the cogs of capitalism.



I am for art that has no beginning and no end, but may suggest a certain experience within the definitions of time and existence.



I am for art that can move mountains.



I am for art that has the strength of a million humans.



I am for art that is as fragile as human existence.



I am for art that scoffs in the face of the fear of the look-in-the-other.



I am for art that is as ethereal as the last breath upon the rattle of death.



I am for art that is not obvious and has the potential to stop or slow time, if even for a fraction of a second.



I am for art that does not fear nor protect itself from destruction.



I am for art that never fully defines itself.



I am for art that helps me learn about myself, from myself, about others, and from others.



I am for art that won’t let anything ever stand in its way.



I am for art that contributes to my willingness to stay alive.

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