A short film, in front of my embroidery 'Raw Vision' created for the show 'Ex Deo Libertas'. The focus of all my work for this show was looking at things from different perspectives, inspired by the controversiality of working on a marijuana farm whose aim is to generate support for the artists of Life is Art Foundation. Anything controversial essentially means that it can be viewed from a variety of perspectives. Raw Vision's inception was the focusing on the purest human view, the retina flips the image we see over and it is the brain that flips it back over. Therefore upside down is the view before it has been judged, the tiny tiny portal of the present.The beauty of the farm, its gardens, land and view was gaspful, it took me about a minute to get my pens out, plot myself into the vegetable patch and draw and draw and breath in, throughout my stay I was always taking more in, delving deeper into my exploration. It had me under its spell entirely.
The poem was written in a hotel room at 2am the day after I left the farm, where I was feeling overly whelmed and fiercely inspired to write. The writing is below, for those who want to take a closer look.
Where have I been?
Pioneering in fresh freedom.
Rolling around rulelessly and rolickful,
hope and belief overflowing the coffee cup
We put our golden, swollen hearts on stakes
and marked the land with our treasurous experiences,
so that the gods and extra terrestrials
will see the history of happening on this real map.
It was real wasn't it. wasn't it?
I am not sure.
My conception of this concept is so blurry.
So many ways there are to look at one thing.
I took my glasses off when I arrived,
saw what I could
and filled the rest with imagination, intuition and gut
and it was a wonderful wonderland.
Her too long embraces completely disarmed me,
it felt as natural as my birdie-beating heart could allow
and when the warm, just filled, belly pressed against mine,
well it felt like immaculate conception.
And you, I looked into the double eclipse in your eyes
and so much entranced was I, that I jolted when you blinked.
If i was able to put into words the adventures I had on your face
well, you may have imposed limits, or charged entry.
Yeah, headshaking human beauty everywhere.
There was her sweet sweetness and big smallness
and his squeeze and rasp and strengthful softness
and her golden shining hair and campful clarity.
Her wit and walk and wavy ponytail
and her moving mouth and goddess gate
and his moving body and weighing mind
and his gentle way, melting my sometimes brash boldness.
Her smooth parallelagram face and rainbowchain gums
and his wildly practical ticktocking mind
and his mutual love of logic all
and his girly-guyly dimple smile
Could I put a photo in a frame on my bedside table,
well that would be as forlorn and flaccid as a
butterfly with a pin in its once flightful self.
I could get a laser
and ceremonially trace the rim light of
the moon making a fineline landscape
on the cusp of your hair?
Yeah, there were scapes everywhere,
sea of knee scapes
glass menagerie scapes
all the way to the peripheryscape
and thats when we were cougars
and then foxes
and then wolves.
Yeah, we were beasts
and now I have no idea
which is my totem animal,
since I channeled so many up on that hill.
I was there, I snorted and leapt,
dived and made quick ferral decisions,
my paws ruffled through chickens with you,
bones and flesh and wishes a-flying.
I know savour is the answer,
but I am not there yet,
I have watched the future become the present,
but I can not yet let the present become past,
so fresh the affair,
a storm flashing and waving,
epiphanating around in my mind
and thrashing around to my core.
Can I stand up on the table and scream?
I want to cry and sob
and say that I am covered in splinters and scars
inside and out,
because I have loved deeply
and been deeply all,
deeply this and deeply that
and it lingers still,
though it suddenly feels pornogrpahic,
something to hide under my coat.
Just like the obscene view of the city
through my glasses back weighing on my nose.
I am not free,
I just drank from the cup,
and the cuppeth overfloweth.
and I knoweth
because if I was free I could just flow
and I wouldn't know the difference
between one life and the next,
but then would this have been such a miraculous pleasure stream?
Would I have felt the sunshine shine right through my transluscent self?
Would I have laughed so thoroughly I thought I might
turn inside out or shed a skin
with the writhing contractions happening from within?
I did fly,
I flew above all of you and saw things from the sky,
I turned the world upside down for a while.
I made the sunset with the might of tiny steps.
I was free, it was me, I am redhanded
I feasted on joy and soft-spot stew,
I felt love I still can't conceive of how to deserve,
I had my desert before dinner
and I don't know how I will ever recover ....