i am not lightning itself, but the charge that sends lightning on its way.


it is curious the way scientists or people in general refer to the massive size of the universe being meaningless. of course what the are trying to say is that the magnitude and complexity is so far beyond our current human understanding that it is easier just not to think about it. but to say it is meaningless is a slap in the face to the cosmos. it is like saying that roses are infinitely beautiful, but that means nothing. if they meant nothing so many wouldn't get sold every every time a husband has done something he wants his wife to forget.

meaningless, such a powerful insult. your size may be beyond my understanding dear universe, and so is the depth of beauty in a rose. but i love you both all the same.


i was once burnt by ice. mildly confused i went on to realise that the universe must be more complex then i can conceive.

thinking about this makes me feel better about having no idea what is going on.



it is my life that is the true art. and all i can leave behind is fragments of my experience. artful insights into who i may have been. i, as this dean, will never know because i will not be there to see the completed picture, the full stop. my life's work will be my life's work. creativity flowing through me. expression as exhalation.
like a comet i will leave behind a brilliant trail, illuminated not from within but from a point outside myself. it will be your eyes that bring me to life and keep me there. for now all i can do is keep breathing. breathing and hoping that what i do leave behind is of some significance, and that i do not fade out into un-remembered nothingness. a fate worse then death.





i am still searching for truth.
that is to say i am still searching for myself.

-----

each day i struggle to determine if my life as this body is one day longer or one day shorter.

-----

i am not supposed to be anything other then what i am.



there is nothing inside of me. i am empty except for the capability to tune into the world. anything i think, anything i feel is the direct result of a particular tuning, a frequency i have picked up from the universe. this allows endless possibility into my life. it provides me the potential, at any given moment, for anything at all. if you can imagine it, i can feel it. if i can project it, i can share it with you. everything is shared. nothing is mine, nor yours or even ours. everything is everyone's.


what do you have to be afraid of? pain? you know pain to be transient. never permanent. even the most prolific pain passes. so what then? you have nothing to lose, because in truth you can have nothing at all. there is only gain to be found here. only self expression, only the shared smile that put you here in the first place and only the reflection of the world you want to live. you need not be afraid. those words sound empty. empty but true. the true challenge is giving in and letting go. allowing the universe to work its magic on you, having faith that everything is as it should be. always easier said then done, and easier said to others then to yourself in the mirror.


perhaps it is never my work that you do not understand, but only yourself. the prism with which you view the world is distorted beyond recognition rendering you incapable of seeing anything for what it is. it's not wrong, just different. your blue is my red. as my ideas refract, they scatter and leave you clasping at shadows. you see the twinkling of the full light spectrum, you understand the rainbow, but only look at it as something abstracted from you. you do not feel the light rain as it brushes over your cheeks. and after staring for some time, you turn away, realising you are soaking wet and can not remember why you were standing in the rain in the first place. the colours are there. they are always there. your colours too. and the bliss when our rainbows converge. their luminosity knowing no bounds.
when you remember that it is same the light which shines through me as through you, the same source refracting and reflecting, only then you may be able to begin to understand me and my work.


nothing is impossible. so love isn't either. at first make peace with love, then it will have room to fully enter into your being. allow yourself the gift of being love. not being in love, but being love itself. being 'in' love suggests that love is something separate, something other. like being in a new city on holiday. no, love is more like being that new cities homeless people. invisible but omnipotent, mostly harmless but always with a heart of gold and stories to tell.





i let you keep my eye lash,
as a gift.

i made it myself.

it is a small but essential piece of me,
and now it is yours.

i know you will probably take better care of it then i would,

but just in case you don't,

i have grown hundreds of others.


'...it seems even the most beautiful flower beds still, in time, become overrun with weeds. the flower is perfect in its beauty. it effortlessly stares at the sun, striving ever upwards, becoming a full and even more perfect version of itself. find me a flower that blooms all year round. that is the flower i want to be. i do not want to be forced to hibernate when the winter frosts threaten my existence. i only want to reach upwards, unfurling my petals, singing the bees like a siren to take my pollen and guarantee my immortality.'

 
there is only ever one day.
today.

and today was a good day.




i like the way jesus always looks like he is partying.

double Jesus Jesus

the olden days

 i sometimes i feel i have that disease that makes me think i should have been born in another time. then i remember that i was.





not so long ago

not so long ago i felt my quest to be the discovering of true beauty. well, i can now rest easy as i have found it. it exists everywhere. simple. i found it in the smile of stranger, the confusion of being lost, the comforting words of a well wishing friend, i found it in free creative expression, i found it in sharing food with friends and strangers, i found it in not knowing where to find it, i found it in thinking of where to look for it..
like i said, everywhere.
without fail, everywhere.
beauty, in fact, is the only thing that exists.

it was dear mystery that helped me find it. beautiful, elusive mystery. constantly reminding me to open my eyes. to smile at the world, so the world will smile back.

there is nothing more perfect then knowing smile of mystery.

maybe only beauty's soft kiss, but beauty is mystery,

so there is nothing more perfect then mystery's soft kiss followed
by the knowing smile followed by the only words that should ever exist. 



more excerpts

'the dance is already there. present within every facet of life. i merely give it a time and a space to exist. i allow it to be, to enter into realisation. i pull it from the ether, where it is living in its fullness, and put your eyes onto it. i coax you to step through the doorway of my soul. i smile at you and say 'it may just be through here and there can only ever be one one way to find out'. your eyes smile back and true dance has just taken place.'



            
the sun does not rise, the earth turns.

our persistence in maintaining that illusion through our use of language does not help us at all. it continues to re-enforce that it is OK to choose convenience over truth.


true artists live.


imagination can be cruel. it creates monsters out of shadows and love out of thin air. it binds us to ourselves. it reminds us that we are only ever allowed fleeting moments into the ether. if i am to live entirely within my imagination i say goodbye to the world. if i am to live entirely without my imagination i am also to say goodbye to the world. imagination is like the poisonous flower, beautiful to behold but potentially fatal to smell.




to put it simply,


life is good.



why do we still allow the laws of man to dictate what can and can not be art?

EMI said 'no' to the song i used previously on this video,

so instead i used a song i made myself.

and i say yes.

yes to art. yes to freedom.


this evening i asked 'how am i best able to permeate love?' my answer was shown to me by a cloud of golden light surrounding and inhabiting me. albeit briefly my entire room, in fact my entire being, lit up.

i am still trying to decipher the message.

conceptually i understand that i am love.
i see the flower or the birds that dance at my window and that understanding moves to knowing, but it's the third component of the holy trinity that eludes me for the most part. unbridled unconditional experiencing.

i feel i need to leave my golden light on.

perhaps that message no longer needs deciphering.




seems love's light shines in many ways.

the first step to liberating ourselves as artists is to stop fooling ourselves. our art making is a symptom of our being an artist, not the cause.


the word universe seems limiting.
only one? maybe ultraverse or manyverse. or why not just verses. stanzas even.

perhaps stanzas is more accurate and fitting then it appears at first glance.


more paffing

photo update for y'all








another excerpt from my notes on choreography.



"what is the point of trying to apply literal meaning or even understanding to abstract movement. that would be like saying the 58th curve from the bottom left on pollock's blue poles is directly related to the feeling he got whenever he ran out of cigarettes, and the 59th is about the time he bought new socks but lost them before he could wear them. it seems ridiculous. and it is. if choreographically i move my arms upwards, what does that mean? nothing. cultural conditioning gives it the sense that i am reaching towards a higher power (which is the most obvious explanation for such movements). but that is only your brain telling you that. my higher power might be below me, or sitting at the back of the theatre or completely non-existent. but if i continually raise my arms, and more importantly raise my eyes, it seems as if i am looking to god."




there are no flowers without bees,

no wind without trees.

no happiness without ease,

and no you's without me's.
mysteries are curious things. they sneak into your life in the middle of the night, they play guessing games with you in the afternoon and if your lucky they may become a dear friend. mysteries will mysteriously say 'oi' and bring smiles that linger. however it seems they also must disappear as curiously as they first appear.

what a shame. mysteries are so beautiful. 

perhaps mysteries think i already have too much mystery in my life. that could not be further from the truth. there can only ever be one. for now ill just have to wait and see if this mystery finds me again. i have a feeling i might find one up a tree somewhere, and if i do ill be sure to share a glass of wine with it, smile affectionately and say " dear mystery, have you fed a zebra lately? "

this as a love song to yourself.

an excerpt from my notes on choreography.


the smile.

what can be more potent then a smile. an uninterrupted outward experience of the smilers inner world. that is what choreography tries to do, does it not? outwardly express the inward inexpressible. a smile transcends culture, race, class, gender, ideologies, species, age, education, height, favourite ice cream flavour, everything. is it possible that the simple act of smiling can contain all of the transcendental secrets of the universe? of course it is.

super human super cool

day one

ok so here is some cham photos.