By psilly | Published:
April 22, 2009
We think walls are good for keeping out the cold and rain. And for displaying some art. They’re useless in the creation and propagation of art. We don’t care if Language poetry appears next to sonnets, or haiku next to spoken word and workshop poetry beside agit-smut. Our tastes are catholic—even though we’re Jews and pagans and Buddhists and libertines and run-of-the-mill Christians. We don’t care how art is shaped—round like moon, flat like roadkill, angular like love, twisted like political promises. We hear many voices (even when we’re taking our meds) and are guided by whimsy and passion and urgency. We want more.
Big Bridge is a rather wonderful place that I stumbled upon just recently. I’m astounded by the amount of content — and I’ve barely scratched the beat surface. It was the d.a.levy satellite page that was my gateway into their labyrinthine tapestry, I’d found out about levy from his homepage at thing.net, and I’d found out about thing.net from my interest in Michael McClure (whom I’d found out about whilst researching curious cacti (dig out his ‘Peyote Poem’ for a sweet beat treat)) …
So… you’re assignments (should you choose to accept them):
By psilly | Published:
March 15, 2010
"Emergently Musical" by psilly, Ink & Watercolour on Paper, 15 x 28cm. (2010)
“Emergent Musics” by Mark Conway Wirt is a collection of music that, like some magical audio gardener, he has grown from a series of self-organising seeds. He has taken these seeds and placed them in a mathemusical greenhouse based on drawings by the invisible hand of emergence. They are lit by the sun of his creative imagination and watered delicately with the crystal purity of his aesthetic sensibilities. They flower into marvellous rotating parasols and unfurl spiral curls around cones of sonic delight. They plink like the translucent threads of a (philip) glass piano trying to dance on a (terry riley) rainbow. They pluck at the occult parabolas of transcendent geometries with tiny ears on the tips of their fingers. They are the sound of a waterfall in a sky-blue porcelain cave; the musical tremblings of a spider’s web tickled by triangular flies that don’t fear death; a jungle breeze playing dot-to-dot with its own discrete particles…
That’s my theory anyhow – as you can probably gather – it’s best put to the test…
Download everything for free at *emergentMusics* (and while you’re at it why not investigate the intriguing *theory behind it all*.)
By psilly | Published:
May 12, 2009
ucandoit
OK folks, time to check out LARZAFFER THE PHILOSOPHER -
heartfelt
spontaneous
rainbow spirit rhythms
witch flow warm
with an
easy smile.
He posts poetry regularly under the name of “ucandoit” HERE (which is where I first met him). As well as his poetry there is a novel: “The Farmers Maniac” (available on his website) which I thoroughly enjoyed reading a few years back — “A wonderful journey through insanity, poetry and spirituality” (indeed!)
I think it’s good to have an idea of the voice of a poet – so please listen to the following snippet from a CD of Larry’s called “Moon Love” (if you’re interested in hearing more then head off to his www!).:
Read on for a few examples (among many!) of Larry’s poems, first posted at the ayahuasca forums;
screen-grabbed with original responses for an authentic experience..!
TOUCH by Lawrence A. McFadden
futures
listen
i want to paint you
the color of your eyes
i’ve seen
what you could do
to me
the power of love
to mend bend
and awaken
taught to give i’ve kept
the mirror clean
and i am what remains
of fifty two years
i can’t complain
if you are crazy
then you know why
i am insane
i hear in your voice
in your words my love
my love may i touch
your wet paint
will you wonder
what becomes
of my tongue
( ( ((LARZAFFER THE PHILOSOPHER)) ) )