Last summer a friend gave me a copy of Alex Grey's book "The Mission of Art" before I left to work in Glacier Park. I finally started reading it on the flight to Maui, since it had been preordained in my mind that leaving Portland would be the turning-point when I would return to visual art, which I'd largely neglected for the past couple years in favor of writing and film work (not to mention being consumed with other problems). I am working my way through it in my slow way, reading a little bit each night before bed. My reaction is mixed. I love his clear, concise sections and easy-to-read style of writing, his obvious command of art history, the fact that he uses lesser known names as examples more often than the ones we all know, and the way he takes art-making seriously as a spiritual calling in the service of leading humankind to the next rung on its evolutionary ladder. Most of what he says rings true, and I've highlighted many passages, like this one.
"Any work of art or body of work that successfully runs the gauntlet has the potential to influence the worldview of many individuals, thereby subtly transforming the entire culture. So take care, artist, you shoulder responsbility for affecting the collective mind. Even a tiny drop of a powerful tincture can change the color of an entire glass of water."
Passages like these are making me think more carefully about the "energy" I want to put out into the world by way of the art I create. So, I'm enjoying the book, even if my distaste for organized religion occasionally raises a red flag. My ambivalence comes from my reaction to his art, as reproduced (mostly in black and white) in the book. My first reaction to it, and part of the reason I laid it aside for so long, is that I thought it was really bad. (Example above.) The style reminded me, and still reminds me to some degree, of the sort of bad new age/hippie fractal art that Deadhead types had on the walls of their dorm rooms during the summers when I worked in Yellowstone. I still don't really like it much. It's clear that he's drawn a lot of inspiration from LSD, DMT and similar naturally occurring drugs, and my psychedelic phase ended more than a decade ago. But I do find his work slightly more palatable after reading about how he arrived at the style and what he's trying to communicate with it. I'm also ambivalent about the seeming megalomania with which he presents his work alongside that of established masters like Van Gogh, William Blake and Michelangelo. But then I'm acquainted with the merits of audacity, so I have to go easy condemning it in someone else. Overall, though, I'd say Grey is a combination art critic/philosopher and practioner whose art criticism and philosophy I prefer to his own personal work. As with everything else, I will take what I like and leave the rest.
We are having dog drama out here right now. The people next door have two full-blooded pitbulls that have a history of causing problems in the neighborhood. Not long before I came out, they got into a tangle with our dogs (both pitbull/ridgeback mix) resulting in injuries on both sides. But their dogs are the aggressors and have caused trouble with many other peoples' dogs resulting in calls to Animal Control before. (Walking up the driveway yesterday evening, they were so menacing as they barked at me over the fence I almost walked back to the main road and called Cousin to come pick me up in the truck, because if they'd gotten over the fence I have no doubt they would've attacked me.) Elio's ear was ripped during the previous altercation, and that wound is still plain to see. From what I hear, the neighbor's dogs were in OUR yard when this happened, and they never came over to talk to us about it or take responsibility. Enter this morning. Cousin came charging out of his room in a rage and ran outside: they were at it again. Later the woman who owns the house finally drove over and talked with Cousin. He said they need to get a kennel, but she was uncooperative and let drop that she'd called animal control, because this time Nikita and Elio were on THEIR property. After hearing this Cousin was not happy and the conversation ended abruptly.
It was certainly rotten of them to call animal control, before talking with us, when their dogs have a history of violent behavior (the kind of dogs that give pitbulls a bad name), and Cousin says they only did it to forestall Animal Control coming to take their dogs away, since that's what will happen if they get one more complaint. Ugh. Just when I was starting to warm up to dogs, this shit has to happen and remind me why I hate them. I hate the feeling of being threatened by someone else's pet. If your animal is dangerous, you'd best keep it tied the fuck up, because if it attacks me, I will prosecute you for first-degree assault with a deadly weapon, and it will be YOUR fault if that dog is put down.
My solution: get rid of all the dogs and give everyone cats.
Allergies schmallergies.
My new friend Lawrence (who lives in Pittsburgh where the Andy Warhol museum is) turned me on to a couple cool little short films starring Ben Whishaw (by director Alnoor Dewshi) that are up on YouTube: "77 Beds" and "Spiritual Rampage." In the latter he is a dancing Hare Krishna in the orange garb and punkish shaved hair the HKs wear. He abstains from sex as part of the religion, and of course that only makes me desire him more, the way I used to get so hot and bothered by Mr. Spock on the classic Star Trek when I was a teenager. (Judging by the amount of "slash" fan fiction available on the internet, I'm not the only one. There are lots of perverted Trekkies out there.) I have this weird feeling that IF I was ever to undergo some sort of religious conversion/180-degree lifestyle change purification, I could see myself becoming a Hare Krishna. I like their discipline, and let's face it, lots of them are pretty attractive (well, I speak of the ones I used to run into selling books in downtown Portland...I don't know how authentic Hindu they are). All that dancing and chanting and getting up at 5 a.m. Discipline makes you hot (and off-limits, in the case of the HKs).
Speaking of Ben...I wish I hadn't put up that photo of my portrait-in-progress of him the other day, because I decided it didn't look enough like him and basically started over last night. I'm so glad I did, because it already looks a lot better, and now it's going to be really good. But no more pix until it's done.
xo
glam aka tony
