Trying to see the way through the pipe
Washed out with my dreams
Cycles run like ins and outs
To create the backwash
The spillage is paramount
For we are no messages in bottles
We ebb and flow
For just one special, pure, round pipe
So I had every intention of painting a quintessential view of a lighthouse and as I was looking through various images of lighthouses my mind kept drifting, as it’s prone to do. All I could think of was Pete’s Dragon. The original, not the remake, as I’ve not seen it. Philippe saw the trailer and […]
Sailing ships to karma seas
The visions that things improve
To take something for what it was
Then make it better
Fire turns & forests unprotected
The reasons for failure paramount
Between sea & adventure
Lies a ▲
It’s no Bermuda’s best but its close
It makes the world spin
because 1 ➤ 1 ➤1 ➤ = 1
The whimsical leprechaun once wrote a poem that disappeared. Never to be seen again, he and it, was that way. Fleeting. Fleeting from theory, from observation, from conservation, from conversation. Trouble has it, he was a smoker. A smoker of two kinds. Firstly, there was his pipe. A pipe by which he blew all sorts of shapes and forms of billowing saw dust into the sky.
The second was his signal. He formed it from a pot. A pot that planted roots so deep, so colorful, no island could possibly possess them.
Thus, the whimsical leprechaun resolved himself to the activity of re-appearing only when the time was just right and like a rabbit in a hole, never missed a second.
In between, the unknown. Known to no one but himself and the tree within which he lived. It’s name: Grapefruit.
hey! its electric
My tone of exuberance
I’m totally stoked
I did it.
Fruitful. Fruitless. Endeavors
Towards an end goal
That will never come
The blue moon sticks though
They stay a flame.
Teddy had too much tea
Father keeping me idle
hands in workshop
He’s a book keeper
And I remain the reader
For thats a different kettle entirely
Someone who knows the way you think
What you’re actually trying to achieve
Well its a good story in and of itself.
Designed by man (not)
You illuminate the dark night
With your playful undertones
And magnificent history
These nights actions
A play to keep the secret
You tell me there is more to discover
With your Alchemistic twirl
Electricity running thru your veins
i see you
i see you circulating
not in motion, but in body
For if body always moved,
Our lifeblood would be closed by Sunday
It helps to pray
So you see, my sweet predator, my incandescent rose,
I need you
I need you to last the night
Like a twinkle in a midpoint
Host any future as the red rose does the past
let crests be crests, men well men, be men
And currents; well always sawing thru.
**A game my cousin and I played, you write a line then I write a line… the following is how far we got…
All to care about is feathers
To see them all around
None but one to rule the flock
To Be cared for by another
To see them for what they truly are
Which is beautiful in totality
And just as small as a peacock
but larger than life
When you consider who you’re sitting next to
to feel full of gratitude
Yet complacent with peace (of mind)
And beaming with love
Beams & Beams & Beams of light
like a bright shining star
shhhh… Dont tell anyone
… We’re all bright shining stars
And dancing candles in the wind
Dancing the rhythms of life
oh but the rhythm, to stay n’ sync
To play out this rhythm and get thru to the other side
Is to hope that colors remain colors and rhythms…
Well that they never subside
Slow embers building awe
Water makes the ceasefire begin
Structures crumble to your essence
Elevated to an ash
Ready to return to metaphysical state
it burns to be reborn
but to do that…
It still has to burn
And feel what that’s like
Built between 1866 and 1883. Largest courthouse in the world. Architect is Joseph Poelaert. Thought to be the largest building built in the 19th century. Has been undergoing renovation since 2003, but it’s been so slow that by 2013, they were saying that the scaffolding itself, was in need of renovation! It is such an […]
You spin You spin You spin
Dissolving into nothing
Into space you fly
Above the black hole of unconsciousness
But below the clouds that beckon
Due source overdue
For me to save you
So the spins keep perambulating
Am the record
Am the record
Am the record
Cant get out; want to escape
The nebulous targets
Rather shoot a bull in the eye
I was walking through the forest, A path long and dark. Welcomed by dogs like I was a guest, Dogs that never did bark. They were not my mission, I kept moving further. For my mind in total confusion, In search of my brother. The sky was coal black with a shine less moon, And […]
“Contextually educated, multi-racial, methodically creative, socially aware, culturally blended, and technologically proficient”: Jason Mayden shares his vision for the creators of the future.
Sunshine sprinkled with a dash of rainbow
A schism so the voice cracks
Usurped by faithful will
I have melded myself to push
NOT THE DARKNESS
But the light at the end of the tunnel
Walter enhanced prose
But lacking wit included bullshit
The art of display
is how you display your feathers
007 shaken not stirred
I’ll have 4 of those please
Slumping down deep pine
The hunger wakes inside
For without freedom
Cause ceases to exist
August ideas now back to Autumn
Pretty as they fall
Time to let go
“I’ve noticed recently that people seem to be divided between considering cooking, and baking in particular, an art or a science.
“Baking is an art” people seem to use recipes as inspiration rather than the letter of the law – ingredients are adjusted depending on personal tastes. Measurements & timings are vague and rely on knowing appropriate textures, colour etc. Results are inconsistent until recipes have been tried many, many times.
“Baking is a science” people follow recipes a lot more closely, don’t substitute/add extra ingredients and measure things exactly. They have opinions on weight versus volume, and even weigh liquids as it’s more accurate. Results are reasonably consistent from the get go.
As in life, I’m more of an “art” person – which is why my recipes are sometimes a bit vague with measurements – such as the soda bread recipe says use between “250-300ml” of soured milk. Like the soda bread, our slow rise no knead bread needs slightly different amount of liquids each time we make it – depending, seemingly, on the type of flour and the temperature of the liquid – so for me, dough texture is more important than exact quantities. I’m a bit more (but admittedly) not a lot more scientific the first few times I make something – until I begin to understand what it should be like. I find it more fun to freewheel than to stick to the recipe – but my results are sometimes inconsistent – taking a recently relevant example from cooking in general, sometimes my chilli rocks the free world, sometimes it struggles to rock our living room: edible but meh.
(Funnily enough, I’ve got more exact about favourite recipes after I’ve written them up for here because I’ve made them to the exact recipe for a few times before publishing it and have started to enjoy the consistency – before, I’d just throw a random amount of mustard seeds into kedgeree but now I use 1tsp like a good girl 😉 )
Where do you stand? Do you stick to recipes exactly or throw things in at random? Do you favour a more creative process or a more consistent result? Or are you somewhere in the middle?”
Keep me dreamin’
Held down by this feelin’
Oh my sweet darling
Like D’jango unchained
I do mas
For doomed to was the decks darkside
To planking on a diving board
What I wouln’t do
Is with intent try to hurt you
Guiding space with heart and mind
Almost especially divine
x * y = y * x = e
The people have spoken
In the beat
And the rhythm is paramount
From amber sunbeams
A toast to natures warmth
In this morning do I so wake
Surrounded by Sun & sky
But not so high it heats my vision
The truth is, the shadow always scared me
For it is perpetual history until you turn to dust
it is the memory of yourself before you turn to light
Not after death
So let the tree live
A Long and phosphorous (Φωσφόρος) life
“Today on East Coast we have a huge snow storm, so it is a perfect time to post something nice, a summer photo from Plitvice Lakes. My previous photos have a lot info about this place, so today’s story is a legend.
Rivers that mean life
Plitvice lakes are probably the most memorable waterfalls of Croatia, so it’s no surprise that scientists have been interested in it’s natural beauty since the early 19th century.
The diversity of these exceptionally rare endemic plants makes the Plitvice lakes national park precious not only to Croatia, but Europe. This area, spreading deep into the Velebit outback was in the past called Devils garden. More life paradise, history gives us the origin of the name, since the lakes were on the very border of the then Habsburg Monarchy and Ottoman Empire. The garden of Eden is what Plitivice are with 16 grand lakes covering over two square kilometers. Connected with big and small waterfalls, most of the water is brought in by the Black and White river.
A hundred year old legend tells the story of the origin of the lakes. After the Black river dried up, and the rain didn’t fall, the people were thirsty and started praying for water – to no end. Then the Black queen appeared in the valley. She had pity for the people and with thunder and lightning let the rain fall… After refreshing the people, animals and fields, the rain continued to fall – creating the myth that became reality – the Plitvice Lakes.
Also in WS you can see the aerial map and get some idea about lakes surrounding.” (credit: http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Europe/Croatia/Coast/Licko-Senjska/Plitvice_Lakes/photo1042321.htm)
Once in a far off novel I read
Fitzy told me of a fixation
To an idea of intangibility
To a sense of rightdom
To a feeling of contentment
In my room the green light shines
Literally, its a green light in my asylum
It stares at me
I see it and not the other way around
Luckily, I can fight motion
I unhappily fight light
For while ideas are often static
My excise of freedom is not
I am luck
So lucidity flows and freedom…
it grows in blue in yellow
Perhaps there is a meeting point with teal
Down the line
Blue by definition is a color. But to me, it’s so much more. I mark this eve as the dawn of my snorkel experience. Diving into business. Into commerce. Into trade. Blue Designs will be broad, it will be far reaching, it will test my patience. But I am prepared. I am prepared for the aquarium. Towering sheets of glass shimmering as the show turtles and seals floating in their humble refuge. My refuge is my state of Belief. I know what I can build. And for tonite that is enough. |For more info: bluedesigns.london
Has no copyright on the female
Form got lost
Went haywire // #jump #higher # fuck you
There is no substitute for teetering. Amen
So keep wild.
You own me.
That deep lung toke
Sets the world arrest
Centered around you
Plumes billowing bast your eyes
The shades hide darker means
Means to an end
Death, War, Hope
Wrapped neatly in a line for you
Helping me find that place of peace
Where I don’t give a fuck what happens next
|While i don’t seek it
I do seek the sadness that death brings
More like relief, the battles done
To be able to truly let go and pass on
See the green light and shoot towards it
not know where I am
but the fuzziness is warm and soothing
Listen out for something other than silence
And perhaps, just perhaps, we may wind up in conversation
Two cellestial bodies listening for something to share
Then keep going
Then hyper tube
All thanks to smoking
“Aachen Cathedral (German: Aachener Dom), known in English as the Cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle, is a Roman Catholic Church. It is the oldest cathedral in northern Europe and was constructed by order of the Emperor Charlemagne, who was buried there after his death in 814. Groundbreaking occurred in 796.” wiki
credit images/content: http://www.st-artindia.org/
“St+art Festival is a collaborative platform for street artists from India and around the world. It works on the idea of ‘Art for Everyone’ with the primary objective of making art accessible for wider audiences while having a positive impact on society. The two month long urban arts festival will change the visual landscape of the city with art interventions in public spaces through murals, installations, performances, workshops, talks and screenings.”
Keep me down
Hold down this feeling
oh my sweet
Sweet Dark= Darlin’
Like D’jango unchained
I’d arrive on horseback
But doomed to walk the dark deck
Planking on a diving board
What I wouldn’t do
Is with intent try to hurt you
Guide space with heart & mind
Almost specifically devine
They flail across my window
]The drop like fatal flaws
To shine in their for just a moment
They react to stimulation of all sorts
MUTED by their clarity
REJECTED by their ignorance
MARKED by their obscurity
Known as their collective
For puddles are murky
And damns hold on
But water keeps dropping
And I can’t keep it out my eyes
I was. Like a dream.
It didn’t happen
I didn’t know it.
I only felt it.
I only felt him.
I only felt it.
I only felt it
Wet ink and it plumes.
|Sept 2, 2013
Photography by Rob Weir
Interview by Carina Claassens
If you’ve been to Shoreditch on a sunny day you would have noticed John Dolan and his dog, George, sitting on the High Street. George sits patiently while John draws portraits of him and the buildings opposite. In this in depth interview we find out exactly how John became the artist he is today.
Where are you from?
Goswell Road in Islington. I’ve lived in London all my life.
How old is George and how were you brought together?
He is six years old. I was living in shared accommodation at the time and a couple of rough sleepers bought him for the price of a strong can of lager off a mad Scotsman. They had him for about a week and then gave him to me.
How did you train George?
I got him when he was one year old and he was one of those dogs who would nearly bite your hand off when you tried to pick up his ball. He was a cat chaser; he chased foxes. I just have an authoritative voice if you could say that. I had dogs growing up. You need eyes in the back of your head with dogs like these, especially when it comes to food. It’s just using your voice in the right way really. You don’t train a dog with your hand, you train him with your voice. With these types of dogs, they just love you and show so much love anyway – he’s very loyal. He’s a great bloody dog.
How long have you been drawing?
All my life, all my life, I’ve always had a natural talent for drawing – my grandfather was a good artist. It’s only in the last few years that I’ve actually picked up a pen and started drawing the way I am now. I spent many years in and out of jail and came out one day and I was homeless. I climbed into a building site, slept there and would get out in the morning before the builders came. This particular day I was in this building site, in Whitechapel behind the mosque, and there was a security guard that I didn’t know about. I had to jump over a wall – I landed okay but my ankle gave way and arthritis kicked in. As a result I couldn’t duck and dive. I had to literally walk up to people in the street and ask them for money.
I would never have dreamt of doing something like that but I had no choice. From there I started sitting down and when I got George I started sitting down with him. I trained him to sit in front of a hat and I would stand away from him and people would take his picture because he’s a beautiful dog. In the summer time I made a fortune but then the winter kicked in. I had to wrap George up because he was cold and it actually made for a good picture. I found it embarrassing just sitting there watching people throw money into his hat so I started drawing again. I started drawing just to get over the embarrassment and my drawings got better and better. The idea was to teach myself watercolour and I started drawing buildings. I started to draw houses and once I watercoloured the pictures and did all the rest of it I would put a calling card under the doors saying, “I’ve drawn your house, would you like to view it and buy the picture?”
I wasn’t a building drawer. What happened was I was sitting opposite the buildings that are on the other side of the road from where I usually sit, the old decrepit buildings, and I started drawing them to practice and get it right. I thought I would do it with these ones because they’re rotten old buildings.
Today I’ve sold more than 500 pictures of those buildings and they take me two hours to draw.
A John Dolan building drawing (note Burning Candy Crew):
Do the drawings of George sell well?
People started asking me for drawings of him and I would walk out of the house with four or five – they take me about 20 minutes to knock up – and I take them out and they sell. The only time that I don’t really sell any stuff is when the weather’s gloomy but when it’s sunny, sat where I sit, I sell loads of pictures.
What is the most you’ve sold in one day?
Who or what would you say inspires you?
I like Gilbert and George – they walk past me every night and George always says hello to me. I love them. I don’t mind Tracy Emin. Jackson Pollock blows me away. And of course some of the old masters.
So you’ve just always had a natural talent?
When I was 13 I lost an art contract. My grandmother worked as a cleaner and took one of my drawings in to show her friends. It was a fantastic picture, I copied it out of an old comic book – my grandfather used to buy me comic books.
A guy looked over her shoulder and said, “I work for a meat company in Spitalfields meat market, and I’m looking for a freelance artist. If your grandson can do us a trademark we’ll give him £5.” I just couldn’t deliver the goods; it was too much pressure for such a young mind.
Would you say that you are a street artist?
Yeah, I’m in a book about street art as a street artist. Up until the point that I went into the book I didn’t know what I was or who I was. If you asked me now what I am, I would say a street artist.
Have you ever sat anywhere else?
I pretty much always sit in the same spot on Shoreditch High Street.
Because of those two buildings across the road – that’s all it basically is.
I can draw them with my eyes closed. In the summer I’ll go sit in Covent Garden and Southbank. The thing is, I’ve been sat in Shoreditch for such a long time that I don’t have to put signs up. People know me and if they want a drawing they buy it.
If you couldn’t draw and you had to do something else, what would it be?
I don’t know, fly an aeroplane? It’d have to be something good, not something bland like working in a factory or putting cream in doughnuts. It would have to be something good.
What do you do when you’re not drawing?
Sleep (laughs), because I’m always drawing. Even when I’m at home I draw.
What do you draw when you’re at home?
I usually finish pictures that I started on the high street or I’m given stuff to draw. A lot of people order drawings.
Do they just approach you on the street and ask you to draw something?
Yeah, “can you draw my dog?” or “can you draw my girlfriend?”
What’s the most general thing that people ask you to draw?
Where they live. They give me photographs.
What’s the most unusual thing?
Nothing yet, I’m still waiting for something strange.
Do you ever work in other mediums than you do now?
I sometimes work in charcoal, only the basics. I want to start using spray cans. I’ve had a little practice and I’ve got the gist of it.
Would you say your favourite thing to draw is buildings?
Anything really, anything that is a challenge. If I’ve never drawn it before, even better. I’m having real difficulty with a picture of a girl that someone gave me about a month ago. It’s of a girl’s face. She’s very pretty but I’m just not very good at drawing girl’s faces anyway. It’s not like a man’s face that’s crinkled and if it is it’s covered in make up. She’s a stunning girl but I just can’t bloody get her eyes right and I’m banging my head on the table. The amount of paper I’ve wasted…
I assume that most people’s reactions to your drawings are good?
Yeah, I get told every day that I’m very talented. It’s so nice and it’s strange because drawing is such an easy thing for me to do.
Have you ever had a bad experience while sitting on the street and drawing?
Not so much while drawing. But yeah, every Friday night – it’s nothing worth talking about – just drunk idiots you know. I am financially troubled and that’s why I have to do what I do – I’ll never badger people or ask people for money. If someone puts a bit of change or a £20 note in George’s cup I’ll always thank him or her. If they put a note in the cup and I have a picture to give them, I do.
If George could draw what do you think he would draw?
He’d probably draw me. I’d like to think that he’d do a fine job of it as well.
You say you’re a street artist. To what extent do you identify with the other artists you see on the street?
Like me they also stand or sit in the cold doing what they do. They’re open to criticism. I mean the amount of times that people walk past me and go “ah that’s shit”.
So it’s a bit like public art? You’re both public artists?
Yeah. I’m envious of people who paint on the walls because it can be there for a long time. I love it. There’s a lot of good stuff in Shoreditch and Great Eastern Street. I painted my living room wall for a little while.
Street Art London: Thanks John!
In September Dolan has his first solo exhibition at Howard Griffin Gallery in Shoreditch.
Over 40 international street artists and graffiti writers will also collaborate with Dolan as part of the exhibition.
GEORGE THE DOG JOHN THE ARTIST
19-26 September 2013 (10AM-6PM)
Opening 7:30PM, Thursday 19 September 2013
Howard Griffin Gallery
189-190 Shoreditch High Street,
A sense of sense
The cosmos tells me so
The shop has closed
I know who/how I know
“I looked at her eyes: blue, blue blue; same as mine. I sang the color in my head until it swamped my essence like sea water.”
“I divide my life into two parts. Not really a Before and After, more as if they are bookends, holding together flaccid years of empty musings, years of late adolescent or the twentysomething whose coat of adulthood simply does not fit. Wandering years I waste not time in recalling.” – (“When God was a Rabbit”. Sarah Winman)
Played the game well
Time break into targeted darkness
Priest is a 2011 American post-apocalyptic dystopian sci-fi action horror film starring Paul Bettany as the title character. The film, directed by Scott Stewart, is loosely based on the Korean comic of the same name by Hyung Min-woo. In an alternate world, humanity and vampires have warred for centuries. After the last Vampire War, a veteran Warrior Priest (Bettany) lives in obscurity with other humans inside one of the Church’s walled cities. When the Priest’s niece (Lily Collins) is kidnapped by vampires, the Priest breaks his vows to hunt them down. He is accompanied by the niece’s boyfriend Hicks (Cam Gigandet), who is a wasteland sheriff, and a former Warrior Priestess (Maggie Q).
The film first entered development in 2005, when Screen Gems bought the spec script by Cory Goodman. In 2006 Andrew Douglas was attached to direct and Gerard Butler was attached to star. They were eventually replaced by Stewart and Bettany in 2009 and filming started in Los Angeles, California, later in the year. The film changed release dates numerous times throughout 2010 and 2011. It was especially pushed back from 2010 to 2011 to convert the film from 2D to 3D. It was released in the United States and Canada on May 13, 2011. The film earned over $78 million at the box office against a $60 million production budget, but it was panned by critics, who, while noting the film’s visual style, criticized the movie’s use of genre clichés. (credit: wikipedia, The Priest)
A long time ago in a galaxy not far away . . .before the empire struck back, and Jedis returned — there was a young padawan director named George Lucas who had a crazy idea for a space opera that almost never made it to the screen.
From Mel’s Drive-in to Mos Eisley
In 1973, George Lucas was living in a one-bedroom in Mill Valley when he directed a low-budget film called American Graffiti. Based on his childhood in Modesto, California as well as his love for cars, American Graffiti was a blockbuster. Although it cost less than $1 million to produce, it earned $50 million as well as five Oscar nods including Best Director.
Emboldened by his early success with Graffiti, Lucas was determined to follow through on an idea for a “space opera” he and his partner, Gary Kurtz, had been noodling around since 1971. The story was based on outer space adventures like Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers — stories Lucas adored as a young boy growing up on his family’s walnut farm.
There was no shortage of sci-fi in Hollywood at the time. But what American audiences got often involved dark, dystopian tales like Rollerball, Logan’s Run, or THX 1138 (Lucas’ 1971 feature film debut). Lucas was determined to make a different kind of sci-fi movie — one that was fun and aimed at 14- and 15-year-olds.
“The reason I’m making Star Wars is that I want to give young people some sort of faraway exotic environment for their imaginations to run around in,” he said in an interview. “I have a strong feeling about interesting kids in space exploration. I want them to want it. I want them to get beyond the basic stupidities of the moment and think about colonizing Venus and Mars. And the only way it’s going to happen is to have some dumb kid fantasize about it — to get his ray gun, jump in his ship and run off with this wooky into outer space. It’s our only hope in a way.”
The Long Road to A New Hope
Lucas and Kurtz shopped around a 12-page treatment of Star Wars to various Hollywood studios. United Artists turned them down. So did Universal. However, 20th Century Fox, encouraged by the early buzz fromGraffiti, decided to give the duo some money to flesh out the script.
But going from a rough outline to a final script would take years. In fact, early drafts of Star Wars would be unrecognizable to even die hard fans: Luke Skywalker is a grizzled old general, Han Solo is a frog-like alien, there’s a main character named Kane Starkiller, and the dark side of the force is called “the Bogan.”
Lucas struggled to reign in his space epic. The story was too dense, tonally imbalanced, and its elaborate scenes would be prohibitively expensive to shoot. His friend and mentor, Francis Ford Coppola, expressed misgivings about early drafts. Even Lucas’ partner Kurtz described the second draft as “gobbledygook.”
But with each round, the story improved. In the second draft, published in 1975, Luke Skywalker is a farm boy, not an older general and Darth Vader is the menacing man in black we’re familiar with today. The third draft introduced Obi-Wan Kenobi and played up the tension between Leia and Han Solo. Acknowledging that he had trouble writing dialogue, Lucas brought in help from writers Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz (although the director rewrote most of their changes). For George, Star Wars was finally coming into focus. On January 1, 1976, he finished the fourth draft of the script, which eventually was used when production began in Tunisia on March 25, 1976.
Lucas and Kurtz originally budgeted $18 million for the film. Fox offered them $7.5 million. Eager to begin shooting, they took the offer and the rest was history.
Released in 1977, Star Wars ushered in a new era of movie-making with its special effects, fantastical world-building, and engrossing blend of myth and fairy tale. Although the final budget was $11 million, the film grossed over $513 million worldwide during its original release, setting the stage for a franchise that would span decades and create generations of fans across the world, connected by a common love for a galaxy far, far away.
(repost- credit: biography.com)
Harry Potter wore a lightening bold on his forehead. A mark of destiny to be the one.
Everryone wears a mark, but what if the mark of the son didn’t have to be marked. He would then just be cursed. The cursed child must learn anew.
Cursed to travel in his fathers footsteps. To attempt, for better or worse, to be better than the former thanks to history.
It is a tall order to say the least. Let the words speak for themselves for inside the mirror, through the wall, there is….
The other side.
The mens task was tall
Intervene w/o interjecting
Be there and no where at the same time
Know Theo Goldrach
For his art will be worth millions one day.
He knows THE MAN>
And has seen him in his dreams
There was a car
There was someone behind you (it)
They were both men.
They looked very suspicious.
The got to skissing.
Speeding off into the woods.
He came at the speed of lightening
It looked like it was a clear night.
But his stick was too long to change the gear.
I turned my hand let go of the wheel to look behind
The passenger (front seat) said f*uck it, lets go.
Anchor said we’re stuck at 40 mph through the woods.
The acceleration got stuck and the cbreaks went watching.
It was someone happening with the car.
Still Mary. If you know then you know.
I am Dean. Gone.
Worries clouding Judgment
Sensing their betrayal
For if telephones… wait i think i already wrote this