The Evil of Perversity, 1891 // Jean Delville
Jean got carried away with his titles at times…. 😉
Welcome to Gwyllm.com…
Anyway, it’s Saturday, and I am working away on a couple of projects, but I thought I would take some time out to bring some new art, and ideas to the feast.
The Daily Art:
We have a new page… The Daily Art … It seems that I am losing the ability to post on Facebook (which, okay, I get it) is kinda like the universe nudging me away from that place. Instead, I will be posting here daily.
On the board as well is the idea of having a forum connected to the images, for comments etc. If you have any thoughts on this let me know.
The latest Show! Tune in! “The Nova Express!”
9 hours of music, covering a large, very large field of diverse bands, solo acts and projects. Give it a go if ya like.
So, still expanding what we are going to do here. Hold on to your hats, lots more coming!
On The Menu:
Return Of The She-King
Thoughts On A Year
Poesy: Rainer Maria Rilke
Tomorrow Never Knows
First The Discovery Of Troy…
I Really Have Never Doubted This
The GraveStones Of Comfort
Gene Hacking, Octopi Style!
Return Of The She-King
Thoughts On A Year… I found this in my unpublished section. It is a take on the last year, and the changes it held for me. A bit personal, but maybe of interest: (another take on Hello! Goodbye!)
2016: It started out very well, I was turning out art, had a hell of a good time speaking at The Exploring Psychedelics Conference at Southern Oregon University in mid April. Shortly after, my Step Mother passed, followed by my Father, 19 days later. A week after that, we received notice that the house we had lived in for the past 2.5 years was going up for sale. Of course, there was all kinds of scrambling after this. We did eventually find a new place (quite nice actually!), and I have had to make a couple of excursions down to Bat Country to take care of family biz with the passing of the parental units. I have only gotten back up on the creative horse again, after what has been a very, very dry 7 months.
With all that passed with the year, I started to think about a larger picture, that being our lives, from inception to ejection from the earthly realms. I try to hone ideas down to a frame work that is easier to grasp. I came up with this: “The first part, or half of our lives we are saying hello. The second part, or half, we are saying goodbye.” A bit simplistic maybe, but hold on for a bit as I build on the basic idea. We come into the world, we say hello first to our mothers, to light, to darkness, to touch, family, the round and turning world. Everything is new; everything a discovery. We say hello to friends, to school, to the creatures of the world as we discover them one after another. We are bathed in Hello! We discover and say hello to ideas, to stories, to the myths… to meeting our first loves, to our first lover, to work, to beauty, and more.
Of course we are saying goodbye probably from the start; from the natal ocean, and as it goes along, to innocence, to the purity that we come in upon. The goodbyes accelerate as you get older, to the first deaths of friends, perhaps in ones youth, to older family members. We say goodbye with more and more frequency. We say goodbye to myriads of situations as we grow, we say goodbye as we shed old identities, we say goodbye to other lovers perhaps when we become married, we sometimes say goodbye to those we marry through divorce. As we age, our mates, our friends, hero’s, places, all change, or die. In the end, we say goodbye to this wonderful place called the world. It is a process…
We cannot have one without the other it seems. As the years go on, I have found myself standing in a middle ground, and watching the process unfold. I think the term for some is “non-attachment”, which plays out as the opposite of “fond attachment”, which seems to be the standard operating mode. As I watch the hair on my head slip to growing out on my ears, in my ears, on my back… you get the picture. Everything changes. Change of course is the constant. We move, or become stuck in stasis. Life is always dealing these lessons, up to the very end.
You learn to say Hello with Love, and Goodbye with Love. Abilities grow, and then perhaps flee, your lovers (on all types of levels) one day are gone. We learn to look into the self, and appraise the path you have trodden. Hopefully, regret will not play a huge part in this.
It was a wonderful, and terrible year. So much to process with the passing time.
Here is to another year seemingly flying by so quickly, with all of its new opportunities. May your time here be filled with love.
(René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke (1875-1926). Painting by Maler)
Poesy: Rainer Maria Rilke
How my body blooms from every vein
more fragrantly, since you appeared to me;
look, I walk slimmer now and straighter,
and all you do is wait-:who are you then?
Look: I feel how I’m moving away,
how I’m shedding my old life, leaf by leaf.
Only your smile spreads like sheer stars
over you and, soon now, over me.
Whatever shines through my childhood years
still nameless and gleaming like water,
I will name after you at the altar,
which is blazing brightly from your hair
and braided gently with your breasts.
You Who Never Arrived
You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don’t even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment. All the immense
images in me — the far-off, deeply-felt
landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and
unsuspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods–
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.
You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house– , and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,–
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and,
startled, gave back my too-sudden image.
Who knows? Perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening…
At The Brink Of Night
My room and this distance,
awake upon the darkening land,
are one. I am a string
stretched across deep
Things are violin bodies
full of murmuring darkness,
where women’s weeping dreams,
where the rancor of whole generations
stirs in its sleep . . .
I should release
my silver vibrations: then
everything below me will live,
and whatever strays into things
will seek the light
that falls without end from my dancing tone
into the old abysses
around which heaven swells
O hour of my muse: why do you leave me,
Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight?
Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter?
How shall I pass my days? And how my nights?
I have no one to love. I have no home.
There is no center to sustain my life.
All things to which I give myself grow rich
and leave me spent, impoverished, alone.
– Rainer Maria Rilke
Tomorrow Never Knows – Electric Moon