-The Quantum Mechanics of Now-

This is an exercise in patience…perseverance & polarity…a polemic & precocious attempt to deliver us from expectation & the perils of self-righteousness…this is an exclamation with no point…this is virtuous virulence…venomous…vertiginous…this is in collusion with confusion…in celebration with nothing…
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I was exiled to the desert of my imagination to await the verdict of fate & confront the trials of becoming… for I do not seek to be understood but to understand…I do not seek shelter but the eye of the storm…I’ve sought the one devout process governing the all & the acceptance of everything in its hideous splendor…I’ve sought purpose over predictability & presence over posturing…I’ve sought the space between the memories I live & the memories I dream…I’ve sought copulation with the crux of creativity & communion with the collective cosmos…I still seek but have yet to find the nothing I’ve sought…
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Only fools scold the sun for disturbing their slumber & live under the false pretence of a casual descent… they wallow outside of an acute orchestration of mourning surrounded by the stench & filth of fear & indecision…only fools chase shadows into the vacuous stare of uncertainty & willingly surrender to an essence beyond their capacity to control…only fools betray consequence & comprehend the quality of light…only fools remain oblivious of & ill-prepared for the futility of their wandering…
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I’m no more depressed than a lion in the zoo…I’m no longer impressed by what burdens you…I’ve broken so many windows I no longer use the door…I’m so used to less I no longer crave more…I’ve bought so many truths I now sell the lie…one moment @ a time…raw…unrefined & impossible to define…
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These stolen moments are @ the expense of boredom…monotony & the restless pursuit of form… these stolen moments are in response to my passion-obsessive-revision disorder… these stolen moments are an act of savage disobedience…in defiance of convention & the illusion of control…these stolen moments seek timeless resolution from the gravity of the future-past & retribution from institutional de-evolution…
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These are stolen moments so I must confess & come clean…I sleep through my life & live through my dreams…
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I heard you say that the fruit on the tree of knowledge is rotting & swollen with worms…but I’m still tempted by its taste…seduced by its ephemeral intoxication…I heard you declare that faithless action is paralysis or worse decay…yet one must sit still to comprehend motion…I heard you scream that we’re slaves to the heart…prisoners of rhythm…convicted of reasoning with space…I heard you proclaim that if you travel the distance from the earth to the sun you’ll find that your journey has only begun…I heard you promise that wounds will heal & scars are symbols of our existence…I heard you cry that life & love are as cursed as blessed…words you can feel but never digest…I heard you make a sound that was music to my ears…a sound so bright & filled with joy that it silenced my fears…I heard you explain nothing…
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You have left me alone before so I’ve come to expect rebirth @ any moment…you left me cold & I created fire…you left me blind & mute yet my visions found my voice…for these chains do not define me as I walk through walls I fail to see…I’m blinded by a light that flows like blood through me…
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All the words I’ve eaten have left a bitter taste but have never satisfied my hungry soul…all the fools I’ve suffered have taught me well but I’ve yet to learn my lesson…all the lives I’ve lived & left behind leave shadows on the walls of memory but lack the structure I desire…all my sins have preoccupied my time but still possess no weight…all the plans I’ve made had plans for me…
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This mind has no matter to speak of…no grasp on one reality…it only has questions with answers that ask more questions…it holds no truths to be self-evident…only momentary…for the only truth is that understanding comes last & without warning…unannounced & uninvited…
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The silence is deafening & the constant pressure of defending my ideas & defining my existence exhausts my inert soul…I am but a fragment of a whole that has yet to find a center or itself… dismembered by a voice…languishing in perpetual commotion traveling @ the speed of light in search of a glorious reunion with the absolute…I am a puzzled piece of the whole…hypnotized by the dance of light & the music of the spheres…in pursuit of the building blocks of imagination & the keeper of the keys to the collective wealth of our quantum misunderstanding...I am ravaged by the construct of time in a world that’s expanding… entangled by limbo’s web in a complex charade of chaos & contradiction…I’ve imagined my escape but haven’t quite found the equation & have battled my plans but postponed the invasion…
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Only fools like me fight imaginary battles against imaginary enemies…

“You will have to multiply many times your two-fold being and complicate your complexities still further. Instead of narrowing your world and simplifying your soul you will at last take the whole world into your soul, cost what it may, before you are through and come to rest.”
-Herman Hesse-

-RANDOMNESS IS CRITICAL-

-Matthew David Berg-

fire…fire…I’m consumed by fire…a pure…iridescent flame that shadows me like a ghost outside of this machine…I’m saturated by an overzealous energy that pulsates & undulates in accordance with the random structure of nature…& if this is all…& all is one…& one is all…we’ve been set up for a fall…all I think…all I say…all I am…all it plays…all it wills…all in all…build a bridge…scale a wall…fear it as you accept it…crave it as you reject it…curse it…love it…kill it…feed it…find it…fill it…force it…fight it…fuck it…free it…because a wise man once said it’s all in your head…so deny what you see & forget what you read…it’s never as easy as you’d like it to be…a wise man once said be wiser than me…so feel empty when you feel whole…don’t let sorrow take its toll…find the chaos of control…because our souls are made of glass…these feelings will soon pass & the distant future is as present as the past…

the modern world is so passé…envisioning new worlds on the way…modern people are in such a hurry…in my tree I watch them scurry…modern people love to dance…they know nothing of romance…the modern world is so passé…diluted dreams for slaves who say…everything must end this way…I’ll set to slumber all best laid plans…I’ll never be a material man…

you have to steal knowledge from the pockets of the dead…you have to wrestle giants & demand immortality’s attention…you have to experience a lifetime to understand a moment…you have to return to the source … without remorse…& prove once again that you exist…so don’t resist…it still persists & will insist…that it’s restless and it’s after me…this surging pulse of energy…this reckless shadow chasing me…into the arms of entropy…it’s restless & it’s after you…there is nothing you can do…silly boy don’t look so blue…it’s meant to be I thought you knew…the only constant is that the world is churning irreversibly into dissolution & we…like everything…will never return to our original self…

forward…she cried…I laughed…she implied…that we have somewhere to go…that has always been here…you don’t need reasons to live…when you have nothing to fear …shine your soul through the surface & wear your mind on your sleeve…you may lose countless lives…but not one you should grieve…because the world is besieged with transient souls whose wandering is incessant & isolated…an elaborate manipulation of space…they circle a center that gravitates toward a fate worse than nothingness…their presence is inescapable…the dull…hideous…drone of their harmonics is faltering into the great white noise of complacency…I filtered through the masses of mutated monkeys & found their malicious malevolence to be a magnanimous…egomaniacal…rhapsody in gray…liberate your imaginary enemies from their self-polluted prisons with a vision of Rome burning…languish with your volatile heart held high & empty the contents of your soul into the space between…split the seam & don’t forget your dreams…were you tempted with the illusion of flight…did you trust your friends @ the bottom of night…did you seek solace from a displaced soul…did you learn that love was not loss of control…

it was a boisterous…salacious & lascivious evening as the moon casually glanced over our shoulders & into a future we were suspiciously unprepared for…she said her name was fearless…but that was a lie…the vertigo of her smile revealed a subterranean sorrow that hid below an opaque surface …her mind was a phantasmagoric orgy of slide show memories…her passion was numbed by the innocuous pursuit of pleasure…poison & pretty much whatever you got…she was obviously exhausting her natural resources …she was a rebel star…in violent contemplation…her venomous kiss…was a mute invitation…she was wide like the sky & as radiant as the sun…she was a foul mouthed siren…who had barely begun…& to tell you the truth…I fucking loved her…

we overheard laughter conversing with silence & their nonstop drunken babble was a cacophony of orchestrated madness…harmonies of nonsense…a chorus in tongues…we were amused but still confused by all the useless information that subversively betrayed our best intentions…we partied with our surer-egos in the dungeons of our id…we vandalized our souls…murdered innocence & ate christians @ the coliseum…we were martyrs for a god we were superfluously unaware of…we were a non-violent movement spiraling surreptitiously outside of earth’s gravitational pull…our indifference was cathartic…a shedding of skin…a blood letting…an ephemeral awakening in descent…a catastrophic meltdown we couldn’t prevent…we were attaining critical mass & the moment before we spontaneously combusted…we were enlightened…we were exactly where we were supposed to be…we were the crescendo in a decadent melody…passengers of a colic destiny…prisoners of ambiguous realities & life can be expected to casually…randomly & methodically… change the rules & suffer the fools…my sins have left me unsatisfied & suspicious of gravity…

we were possessed by the ubiquitous spirit that guides a poet through hell…we ravenously fed off the same light that illuminates & awakens torpid souls from a mystic slumber…we struggled for a truth we couldn’t hope to explain…we knew we’d never unconditionally inhabit the space we contained…our hearts were consumed by a self destructive desire to rapaciously dance through rings of fire…we felt the blind contempt of an emetic attitude & infected others with our conscious disease… we suckled off the same source that inspires a poet to lie…a painter to assume & a lover to hate…we’ve become everything we wanted to be…seduced by the possibilities…


Einstein was right…time doesn’t matter to space & energy is the indestructible force that holds consciousness in place …Coltrane was right…you should grow to mistrust all that is solid…everything great behaves like the sea…all inward movements return to an amorous source…succumb to the sound as you ascend gracefully…Picasso was right…alter your perception & leave your feet @ the door…what will shine will sing…what will sing will soar…Huxley was right…we live on a island & write poems in the sand…we die failing to express what we don’t understand…Rilke was right…you have to race toward the open…unfurl your wings & instigate flight…we’re soldiers fighting battles against the temptations of night…Rimbaud was right…we play the fool for a king who mocks our confusion…rebellion’s a book devoid of conclusions…love is a volatile intoxication…genius emits alien vibrations…invite the spirit & the world rushes in…impoverish your senses & pay for your sins…Freud was right…we assimilate…over-stimulate & regurgitate…but did he have to kill love & instigate…the institutional asphyxiation of the imagination… Burroughs was right…life is substance…not meaning… Herman was right…you must carry on dreaming…Buddha was right…meet life with a grin…Jesus was right…the light is within…did you know that knowledge is a monument in clay…molded by you…

the existentialist cries…why should I care…the enlightened man cries…nothing is there…the evolutionist cries…I have somewhere to go…the intellectual cries…I don’t fear what I know…the socialist cries…I won’t fall out of line…the physicist cries…it’s matter not time …the immaterialist cries…I’m not what I own…the artist cries…I feel so alone… the minimalist cries…I’ll live with less…the psychiatrist cries…I think I’m depressed…the capitalist cries…I don’t have enough…the simple man cries…life’s not that tough…the psychic cries…I follow the stars…the balanced man cries…I don’t take it too far…the nihilist cries…I’ll tear it down…the musician cries…I’m seduced by the sound…the anarchist cries…I’ll feed you confusion…the magician cries…life is illusion…

tap into the vein of your true self & unleash a truth so overpowering…so debilitating…that you stand speechless & as still as a stone in its vacuous presence…examine sorrow & joy & you’ll find lovers…entangled in a tempestuous & lethal embrace…craving structure…balance… symmetry… face a sullen & passionless wall of death…exorcise demons from the belly of the beast & emancipate them from your burdened soul with the ferocity of a million golden rays of understanding…feel the true nature of this & a peace that terrifies… feel the solitude of a star & a molecules infinite existence…feel the callous embrace of being & centuries of sorrow…feel the betrayal of love in excess & a fearless recovery…feel the future & past collide…feel the moment…

Painting

Uninterrupted-2006

I guess this is how it feels when there's nothing impeding the bridge between inspiration & actualization. Where motivation meets imagination & invention defies convention.

Peace & Quiet Please-2004

Sometimes you need to block out the white noise of complacency, surround yourself with a luminous light & stare steadfast into the void.

What is the Invisible Army?

To say that we live in a desolate age is a redundant & exhausting exercise in futility. Like chasing one’s tail. It is what it is & always has been. This world has been at war since it first opened its eyes. A civil war between diametrically opposed siblings. An ancient & mythic story retold & reinvented by civilization after civilization both real or imagined. Enacted over ephemeral battlefields.

These opposite forces have carried different names since the first two words shattered the silence. Though the names change the axiom holds true. One can’t survive without the other. The death of one signifies the extinction of all. Here lies the grandest of all hypocrisies. Though by nature the opposing forces are bred & encouraged to destroy one another they must deny their inherent impulses and make peace with their born enemy. They must find harmony. It is the equivalent of trying to turn a wolf into a sheep or lead into gold. At various stages these forces have benefited mutually from each other. They have fed off of & nurtured each other. But during every cease-fire or time of relative calm one thing remains. We are still at war.

This is not a war over the physical world; you can’t master what masters you. There is no land to raise the flag & claim victory. There is no castle wall to breach. This is not a war won by throwing rocks or dropping bombs. This is a war over an idea, an idea that is continually on the edge of extinction. An idea kept alive through the ages by souls impoverished with imperfections but rich with self-awareness & a common cause. The cause of preserving the idea.

The idea is that one can describe the indescribable. Decipher the indecipherable. Unlock the chains that bind us from who we really are & give those without the sight to see a glimpse into the true essence of what this is, while exposing what it is not. The idea that the infinite is as immense as it is infinitesimal. The idea that art is as life is as love is. The idea that we are all interconnected by a web of energy & imaginary lines of color & light. The idea that there is truth & that we can be free. The idea that there is more than meets the eye. This idea has been passed down like an heirloom by the select few who can & do answer the call to arms & the challenge of creating outside of corporeal realms. The artist is & has always been in possession of the keys that open the doors to understanding.

An artist is not defined by what tools nurture their creation nor bound to a means of expression. To limit the definition of an artist would ignore the service of those whose contributions were both necessary & invaluable. Not every reinvention of the idea was translated through paint or pen but by the actions & integrity of those who do not adhere to the drone & stampede of the masses racing mindlessly toward the edge of the cliff. An artist walks the edge like a tightrope & admires the view.

The invisible army is an idea that has been in place forever. There has always been an invisible army. The invisible army consists of poets & writers & painters & musicians & architects & physicists & psychologists & anyone who conveys the idea to the next generation. The responsibility of the invisible army is to defend the idea & fight when called upon. To push back when pushed. The sole purpose of an artist is to not only create but continue the species & keep the idea that what you see is not always what is there. Even though saying we live in a desolate age is redundant & exhausting it is also true. The invisible army is here; it’s waiting for you.