Wednesday, 6 June 2007

Can I do the techno bit first time?



Apparently not first time but...wait...what image from yonder windows break?
This is a little chap I met upon my travels. What type of travels would one need to be on in order to meet such a fellow? Feckin' lengthy ones it may be surmised.

I used to read books and among them were a couple by Whitley Strieber. (or is it Streiber?) "Communion" and "Transformation" are tomes a person must suspend their disbelief for, if indeed one had any disbelief to suspend in the first place. The jury is still out on my suspenders(or is it judges who wear suspenders, hard to tell when they always sit behind big desks so you can't see their legs)

Anyway, these books cover the author's own experiences of alien abduction. I will say experiences and not alleged experiences because I don't think he's a good enough writer to have made it all up. Also, though at the time he seemed convinced enough that it was all a bit woo, there is no absolute statement that he left the planet, danced on spaceships etc. My views on the matter and related themes may well be discussed at some later stage. Suffice to say this. There has been more weird shite that has gone on, and is going on, in the human experience, both globally and historically, than any of us alive can get our heads fully around.

And so onto my little friend. He was made in what is best described as a fit of pique. Not the pique that is hurt pride, but that which is stimulation. I had suffered a shock to my system ie. the ending of a relationship. Huge pent up energy was spent on this and at the same time 8000 words of a "book" that I have yet to finish 11 years later. The relationship however was reconvened after a month long break, and went on to bear many fruits, one of which is my son(currently asleep just a few feet from my rattling keyboard.)

The grey guy pictured, who I call the High Priest, is one of what was supposed to be many. He is a he, despite the apparent lack of genitalia. He remains to this day the only piece of sculpture I have ever exhibited publicly. He is the High Priest because all the other dudes I have yet to manufacture were to be dancing around him. The inspiration came from Whitley's recounts, and the artwork of a brief flame in my distant past. I've seen quite a few images of rituals involving one being calling to the skies and several dancing around the one. It's not an uncommon theme in art. What the heck, there's a feckin' fine line between inspiration and plagiarism. Could you draw this line with absolute accuracy between all the so called original artworks and their alleged contemporaries? Yeah? Then drop me a line, cos you are the most talented and knowledgeable art critic on the planet. Or maybe you are the most opinionated? That's not for the likes of me to judge. That would make me opinionated beyond my usual sphere of practice.

Perhaps one day I could tell you a little about my dreams on the visitor stuff. Until then, I'll just have to sleep, perchance to dream, as a new day is soon to dawn and the gulls about this neighbourhood can be tireless in their aurally penetrative daybreak shrieking.
Adieu.

2 comments:

Magdalene said...

Couldn't understand a word of that, but nice pic! The cycles appear to be getting shorter don't you think?

Thesaurus Rex said...

I expect somebody will understand. Any takers worldwide?
Long cycles are for clowns and old washing machines.