Saturday, July 4, 2009

Some Words on Creation By DBL

Error is essential in any breakthrough. All becomes more clear when all becomes muddled. Human existence at this moment, I have come to realize, is an endless plot to structure. With great error we try to conceptualize the simplest phenomenon. Humans, what is it with their categorizing? Without it they would go into disorder. Every time they would look at a chair the mind would reel at trying to conceptualize the object. I sometimes wonder and sometimes explore this idea of running into something like it is the first time I have ever seen it. How would a table function if you did not know what it was for? Stand on it? What else is a tree for but for climbing? How would the child in you use a thread chaser? Or a hammer? Ingenuity is not static. What is this instinctual need to follow a direct path? But insanity is just a thought away. Belief, religion, was the start of this grander scale of order, and science not immune to this either. We all seem to have this need to solve.
From the top I start. The start of my voyage was choppy and somewhat haphazard. But I soon realized that to understand, one must start at the beginning. Creation is random, the only reason it seems divine is because the formulas for the randomness are so accidentally perfect, mistakes only make it stronger. Do you follow?
To some, tumorous we are. Multiply... some parts unneeded. Quarks are essential. Science and religion are but fools in love, ignoring each other’s glances, too proud to approach one another. Sleepless nights are self-inflicted. Relations that exist in mere assumptions are relations that exist in masturbatory dreams. Safe but non-progressive is the thought that one idea is the best and most righteous, fact can only prove what we know. You are more religious then you think and rely on facts to prove your belief system. We seem to live our life to prove we are not human.
Consuming images are what I try to repel but then I am the consuming image-maker. How can one attract another when one has thoughts of discontent? But this is not my intention, I will find a new way of thought if and only if all that is done is just make me a wandering mess. Discontent with the norm is the first step to realizing what I do is just to satisfy and itch that we all have; to create a world that is our own. Rituals, alters, belief systems only exist to calm us, to tap into the origin of this motive is to find the formula; universal theory is not a mathematical equation but a broad and simple reason. Why do I carry things I do not need, what are the symbols that encompass your safety net? Why does one pick the human form as a base to always come back to? I come back to discontent. Of course I do, it is so calming and familiar. Imagine pods of emerging tumors, that is the way a friend of mine sees humans. I am more foolish, I see the beauty in her, and I sense it in her. Taste, I study I enjoy, there is not just one act in lovemaking there is not just one lovemaking. My downfall is the lovesick idealist in me, wrapped around my neck, itself it kills. Feels good to have a reason to wake up no matter how delusional. I will never be enlightened but what drives the stroke further in, what brings it back out? Simple stimuli? When recorded and dated we feel comfort. For future, for now we make, we mark, we date. If I had it my way I would squeeze in any place I fit. What does this reveal? Much I know not, free form reveals more to the consuming viewer not the comfortable dreamer. I fear we have not felt pain in a while, so lets all sit down and cry why should the stoic in you man the craft: hands hurt as much as hands work. We fool ourselves that what we make is only and truly, while she chuckles at our lack of ingenuity.
I enjoy just free thought more then structured thought but unfortunately, like you I am built to analyze and reason out the conflict that exist in the daily values that I come across. Well, one thing if for sure, the reason I am an artist is to stay sane if I was a mathematician I would never stop thinking, maybe I would be a good one but sanity is something I like to be close to. I do not mind wondering past the threshold of this concept and dwelling in a space that I find more comfortable then my mother’s womb but like the rest of you I like company and company unfortunately are not easy excepting of wandering without restraint.
Imagine yourself stimulated by everything you do. Does all touch you feel make you feel embarrassed to feel the way you do when you expose yourself to what is what you love and hate. Does all that touches those nerves that are only inwardly felt in the comfort zone you have built out of brick, inside that one place that not me not him not them not even her know, come from everything and anything that you come in contact with. Connected is all that comes from the tangent that vines from your fingers your nose your toes that organ that only one caresses firing pulses to the grandeur web of thought. Plugged into the matrix. Can you live that way? Feel every curve every soft change, harsh jar. Delusion can become realized. Carefully experienced. Carefully loved. Thin translucent skin to feel each fine tubercle, each neuron, that one squirm that tells you, you are on the right trail. Get lost a little to find a new pleasure. Give a space-time event a chance to change you.
So what is the DivineBrick, one more ad-hoc to satisfy the itch; always changing and growing? It is the need to understanding the origin of belief. This concept unclear and hard to ground therefore the DivineBrick Research Project was established. Can ones self delusion be more then just a way of dealing with what is real to them and what is not, when can it become a new way of thought or at least a brilliant way of thinking, expressing and understanding what is already there? When does delusion cross over to a vision? When does the half ass genius become the visionary? Sleepless nights all become to accustomed; my lover finds no pleasure in this closed eye event. Caresses me with common symptoms of short breaths. Grinding teeth. Repress you. Resist you. Sleep tries to pull me from this love I have for the open-eyed endless grind, pump, shake, I never settle. That warmth that is sleep alarms me. Things mustn't feel so good. Trouble comes when ones finds themselves friends with god. Equals can find more conflict. Questions become more interesting when one knows no answer will exist in their lifetime. I don’t stand on either end of science or religious. My Search is parallel.

Before created, forever edited, marked and dated,
Summer 2009

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