i've always been suspicious of over-riding my feelings, for fear i'd lose all sensitivity, vulnerability, the ability to sense currents in the air and the news. i pretend to be an automaton, simply to throw people off the trail. i'm terribly uneasy at parties, for example, especially having sworn off alcohol. like everyone else i wear a blank look and a smile. anyone looking closely into my face would discover the contradiction. luckily, everyone else too focused on themselves to notice.
the other day i grew annoyed with myself for being upset. an acquaintance with a bit of power over me suggested i'd lied. i proved to him i hadn't, yet in the process i felt the old oedipal urge against the father. this pricked at me as i prickled. suddenly, i thought, 'do i want to be controlled by childhood all of my life?' no, i didn't, so i simply waved the torment away, or rammed it into my unconscious, i'm not sure which. i said to myself, 'i can be a man!'
still, the rest of the day i asked myself, 'am i numb? have i voided my intuition? do i wish to be caesar or alexander the great? is that worth losing my poetic sensibility? hugh mccloed, one of my gurus, writes, power is always taken, it is never given. that i have pondered. say, j.p. morgan (picture above), what was the source of his wealth, banking? absolutely not, rather, the knife in his hand. or look at krupp (picture below), financier of hitler, the greenish glow around him the aura of self-importance, even if he looks (and acted) like an icon of greed.
along with that, there's leni reifenstal's movie triumph of the will, hitler riding in glory before saluting crowds. yes, we know what happened to him and the misery he caused, this bad artist rejected by the vienna art academy. if only they had accepted him ww II might have been avoided, his faint artistic ability overcoming his ire, which he made all of austria suffer for. maybe he would have been softened up just enough. alas, history had something different in mind, using nietzsche's the will to power for it's own purposes.
i had to go smell the roses, simply to escape my damning ambition. http://www.pbase.com/wwp/rose2
i devised this disturbing insight to keep myself from being annoyed. now, when my coat catches on a railing or a hat falls out of the door of my truck and i have to bend over, i tell myself, 'ah, that saved me from being hit by a bus in six months.' in worldly terms it's called the butterfly effect or why we can't predict the weather. say an insect falls from a tree along the amazon. eventually, a tidal wave sweeps japan as a result.
this theorem can prove very useful and the results immediate. i've found when my thoughts swing into the negative realm, all i have to do is tap the top of my head three times. this immediately shakes up my automatic patterns. they take another track and i'm saved from personal mortification. the method deceptively simple, yet we pay a psychiatrist thousand of dollars to shift us out of circular thought where A always leads to B. that's all i do when i surreptitiously give myself a minor concussion.
theoretically, if i'm unhappy with my present view of what's to come, i could stand up, run around my chair three times, and sit down, having altered my world. in public this might look a bit insane. so be it. my survival more important than the impressions of others. and if this gives me a certain control over my destiny, why not? could i plot my actions on a graph and find out how they're ruled by fractals, i might actually turn this sop of a guy into a real man. here's hoping. i vow not to step on any more cracks in the sidewalk. we'll see what happens.
desperate for subject matter, i drove to a neighboring town, marysville. once a thriving crossroads, it's become a city of holes, empty stores and lots. they tried urban renewal. i don't know why it failed. http://www.pbase.com/wwp/mary
last time i fell asleep at the wheel, i travelled a two lane road on the way the san francisco. my doze took me across the center-line into the other lane. i snapped awake to see a huge truck coming right at me. swerving back, i missed a sure death by ten seconds. how often has that happened? i don't really know. he said, 'did you see that huge shark near you?' i'd just swum back to shore in a belize blue lagoon. and she said, 'did you see that ufo over your lookout last night?' probably the close calls in the thousands.
these days i wish for one thing, good luck. that's recognizing the reality of black swans, teleb's unexpected events, what determines the course of history. we invent certain systems to counter-act this great truth. karma, sin, self-confidence, heaven, living in the myth we get what we deserve. hah, whenever has that been true? my sisters received my father's love cause he liked little girls more than boys. of course, my tirades as a result didn't help, yet they came after the fact. nobody really deserves anything. in terms of abstract justice it would be nice.
take the jugoslavian conflicts. i met a muslim student from belgrade. she'd come to work at a city office one morning and a sign said, 'as of now all of the Mohammedan conviction don't have a job.' her friends had been of all races and religions, no problem. the dictator tito kept a firm hand. or the example of sadam hussein in iraq comes to mind. despite his tyrannical ways, women had more freedom under him than they ever will again. we invaded in the name of democracy, abandoning them to their own devices after ten years. anyone with half a brain could see the coming civil war before we launched a plane.
well, i contradicted myself! i'd maintained everything chance, get used to it and relax into uncertainty. and actually, you can forecast the weather and tides a bit, not enough to rely on for a lifetime, still, it's possible to avoid a tornado, sometimes, a heart-attack, an auto-accident. no sense being stupid. to feel you have a right to live while others die, it's only natural, but don't bet on it.
two words WOUND and VOID showed up prominently at an indian art exhibit this weekend in san francisco. see if you think they tie things together: http://www.pbase.com/wwp/indart
eat chocolate. okay, you didn't need me to tell you that. the stuff can be amazingly effective. i don't know how many times i've shifted a mood simply by crunching an oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookie. no, it doesn't always work. that's a given. it can be an addiction on its own. and what we know about addictions so far, even strong drugs can't end them. only five-step programs have a prayer of doing so.
i do get mixed up. am i a social being or a chemical animal? how does the first affect the second and vice-versa. considering my blood travels 50,000 miles a day, my kidneys processing 300 gallons, a lot of stuff must be sailing thru my system. how the body keeps all that in balance, or doesn't, a great mystery. no wonder what we eat determines who we are. well, not totally, exercise, for instance, can rouse endorphins and a feeling of well-being, unless you get so exhausted you fall in a ditch and expire of hypothermia.
we're meant to move, and a lot of problems arise when we don't. i wonder if a personal trainer couldn't do more than a therapist? and the right drug does work wonders. i met a guy in costa rica taking a vacation from running a biology lab. he invited me to visit him in oregon, which i did. he said the day before i arrived he suddenly felt normal for the first time in his life, his escape to central america giving a respite for the drug to take affect. and just this past week a friend suffering from long-term depression said people finding her more relaxed, the right drug discovered after an extended and painful search.
personally, i've spent thousands of dollars on therapy when it was a lot cheaper than now. having always having had pretensions to being an elitist, I barked up that wrong tree and fought off suicidal impulses simply with luck. my medical doctor encouraged me to try prozac for a year before i would. and once that worked, i added welbutrin to beef up the dopamine. yes, we're chemical beings and somehow we've got to accept it and get the balance right. otherwise it's crack cocaine and heroin, deployed in a war only they can win.
my friend dennis palumbo has a new article on the subject of therapists as villains. http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/hollywood-the-couch/201201/the-girl-the-evil-psychiatrist i wonder if they're seen as anti-democratic (expensive) and conservative. my therapist years ago said, 'most people happier mainstream'. and in japan therapy states, 'your problem not loving your mother enough.'
in berkeley over new year's i took a few pics. a lot of people out there could use some help: www.pbase.com/wwp/ny12
i'm constantly fearful of invasion, losing my way, forgetting my place. when i tried a biofeedback exercise, hooked up to a machine recording my brain-waves, i'd revert to the tenser state the minute i heard a sound, felt a breath, a shadow passing across my eyes. i thought this might have been early childhood training, ie. my mother popping into my room at the most expected times and telling me not to play with myself. hmm, guess that could be true, but i think there's more to it.
a nigerian visitor said, 'america's a tough atmosphere, you have to make a place for yourself, stake out your territory. in africa we're given a place and protected by others who've been put in a particular spot as well.' so, it's true, the united states is literally a jungle without the social cohesion given by tribes and familiarity with the territory. by the latter i mean, those old guys used to have one landscape with which they became intimate. by taking care of it and understanding it, they could live comfortably.
and these small groups didn't tolerate strangers. i walk down fifth avenue in new york and i'm jostled by all kinds of wierdos. i once saw mafia dudes pounce on an enemy and beat him to the ground, right in the middle of this crowd. trying to establish what happened, how could the cop listen to everyone, including the gangsters, and come up with a who-done-it. if you have a fear of crowds, there's a damn good reason and you'd better be on your guard.
you may not be aware it, how everyone in america afraid of losing their job and everything they possess, this particularly true the past couple years with the economic collapse, homes being tossed back to the banks. most of us don't know how to take care of ourselves, building a fire from scratch, digging up edible roots, in fact we don't even know how to beg, though i think we could learn pretty fast.
an anthropology teacher in college (1962) said, 'we live better than any kings before 1900.' have you gotten used to water coming out of the tap, the air being breathable, food appearing like magic in plastic wrap? theoretically, this makes you a civilized being. the minute the gas stops flowing as it did in the gas crisis of 1973, we fight like tigers at the pump, things get really nasty, all our goodwill depending on our comfort.
given these facts, we can't relax, pleasure has gotten a bad name, sensuality a sin, and all because of the jungle. have you ever thought what would happen if other drivers ignored the white lines and traffic lights? your life wouldn't be worth a plugged nickel. i know this means i'm under threat of extermination every minute, despite the long-term stability and investment appeal of the country. freedom's just a game of jumping over bear-traps and kissing your friends goodbye. no wonder, as many around the world have observed, americans always overreact. i personally have made my body robotic to avoid organic decay.
a few more tell-tale drawings in ipad night flight: http://www.pbase.com/wwp/nf
that time of year to disappoint myself again! of course, the first thing i always say: i will exercise more. and you know what? i never do. what this teaches me, however, is: i feel fat and unsexy. then i think of the hottest woman i've ever seen, in a los angeles irish pub dancing. believe me, she must have been at least forty-five and had those extra love-pounds. and wow, every guy in the place couldn't stop watching her, not just that iridescent dress, those hips, those moves.
and in the survey of web porn, two billion wicked thoughts, the authors discovered most men do not like thin women. and when a woman looks at a man, she must be desiring more than muscles. i mean, look at all these guys they're with! pretty amazing, those beards, scuffed shoes, watery eyes. and i'm not just talking about the old ones. i see combinations i simply cannot believe, i feel like i'm watching a horror movie, hallucinating.
which i bring up to prove my point. what we wish hides the substance of that desire, the true impulse, so time to back up, examine what you will never do cause it's not what you really want. now, if i said, i'm going to get more sex this year, i'd have to confront my fears, figure out what a woman really wants (good luck!), and go for it. and i suspect all our hopes for a higher salary, a fancier car, a trip to tahiti disguise the same thing, pure unadulterated lust. if i say, i'm going to have a kid this year, it means, i'll risk a lot, the fear of aids, the scary business of a possible involvement, and of course pregnancy, to have a lot of fun.
i encourage all of us to get real. that pub-dancing lady knew what she wanted and made no bones about it. we have to get past manipulation and self-consciousness and the attempt to play it safe, broadcasting want me, i can give you what you'll never get alone, and all because i'll be satisfying a passion even bigger than yours, my own.
new pics, out xmas eve and the day itself, this depth of darkness needing a release: http://www.pbase.com/wwp/kiss and http://www.pbase.com/wwp/xmas11
portrait by alice neel
actually, i like to forget this kind of disturbing identity dream as fast as i can. oh, i've read tons of freud, jung, and their followers, an interesting thing to do, yet i've decided most of our dreams merely practical. they integrate the trials and tribulations of the day into whatever makes up our 'self'. usually, they start pretty nasty, calming down as the night goes on.
unfortunately, i ate very sugary cookies last night and this means disaster. yes, scrooge was right, a bit of undone potato can undo you. anyway, i spent the last couple hours in andy warhol's apartment, the dump filled with drug-besotted hangers-on. andy himself drove me crazy, friendly one minute, honoring my opinions, and scathing, ironic, damaging my self-image the next. finally, i decided, after failing to be able to take a shower or find my shoes, 'i'm getting the hell out of here.'
one item disturbed me most, a young theater director who recently lost his job part of the retinue. i attempted to convince him this a bad scene. alas, all he could do was imitate warhol, even deciding he was gay and celebrating the fact. when i started to take off my clothes, all these guys stood around me salivating, eager to see my tally-whacker.. needless to say, i became very self-conscious. what was i, one of these or somebody else? down in the street, i at first simply wanted to return to that hell. then i realized my pack back and my loafers on my feet and i walked with a firm gait. ah, a dream, i knew it.
maybe it's the holidays too. yesterday at the cafe, i felt disconnected, other people unreal. not until i picked up a manga story and read a bit did i feel myself returning to this world, certainly a contradiction. oh, hell, as whitman said, 'i contradict myself, therefore i contradict myself. i contain worlds.' if only he would come to me when i need him!
these ipad drawings related: http://www.pbase.com/wwp/nf
ps. once sat behind andy warhol at the theater. white hair. faded denim. a ghost-like aura. pretty freaky.
