Explorations from undergrad part 2

Studies of people and things to put other things in better perspective.  Re-visiting these drawings is like conjuring up old ghosts..

Explorations from undergrad part 1

Adventures in paint

Art Theater Guild Month at Spectacle Theater

Sometimes, when I'm feeling a little nauseated about the human condition, I find it therapeutic to immerse myself in 2 hours of Japanese filmmaking that gives all my notions of reality and truth a good mindfuck.  Luckily there's Spectacle Theater in Williamsburg to provide cinematic cures for all my existential ailments.

This month at Spectacle is Art Theater Guild Month, featuring Japanese filmmakers from the '60s who were revolting against every aspect of conventionalism they could scrutinize, putting particular emphasis on detonating the notion of the narrative.  Last night was the 1967 film by Imamura Shohei, "A Man Vanishes", which was a pseudo documentary investigating the mysterious disappearance of a salesman in Japan.  While the film is certainly not for the short of attention span (over 2 hours of slow moving, sub-titled, fact gathering), the subtleties of character and story development bring to life a profoundness that could only be achieved through the tediousness the film embraces.  I love a piece that isn't afraid to challenge the steadfastness of its audience.  Biggest highlight for me (spoiler alert) was toward the end of the film when the director tells his crew, mid-story, to take down all the set pieces and the camera pans back to reveal everything taking place in a film studio, but the storyline continues as if nothing happened.  Which one is the real reality? It just. doesn't. matter.

Spectacle's website is http://spectacletheater.com  (also over there -------->)
Check them out, they are one of the best kept secrets in W'burg.

Frames from travels

Paddy Foot

escaping warmth

that threatens to suffocate

from bathing

in pools of jealousy

and germs

and maleficence

soaking

and saturating

until our feet rot off

from standing in sewage soup

but too weighed down

to step out of the swamp

just chew hay

swallow

vomit it back up

and keep chewing

sun beating on backs

burning

forgiveness is giving up

letting go, lazy

feeling something real is losing

but no one wins

sparks don't ignite in puddles

Thesauruses

what's another word for stone?
something heavily hardened
stagnant
contained and cold
unoccupiable
unwelcoming of warmth
or space
or breeches
unmoving
the word is there
but invisible
more like a feeling
an instinct
an added weight in my ribcage
if I could articulate it
I could finally sing it to you
and maybe we'll be content
figuring out what we've been saying
all this time

Intoxicated Cognisance

can our world really be spinning
or just mine?
I contemplate this as I tongue the inner lumps
of my cheek
and crumble clumps of dirt
stuck in the patterns
of my plastic shoes
and search
for blank pages
so important to incapsulate some meaning
remembered from a bathroom wall
some scribbled scrawl
that at some point to me
meant everything
but trudging through the mud of my memory
teething on some twisted truth
as I suckle a cigarette
and my surroundings spin around me
(while you soak up sun and I wait in shade)
I remember nothing
but the gleam of teeth
and a puddle in a cup
and chalk