tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52050529823136794482023-11-15T22:37:59.664-08:00CosmiKnotit but Does what it meansMikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.comBlogger289125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-62039043423339736272023-10-22T02:25:00.003-07:002023-10-22T02:25:26.357-07:00Cosmick-not - reality doesn't care what you believe cos2 believe is reality<p> <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='675' height='558' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwVvZVZ9tCcggwEmwqC-FhijIeTEUf8NuzVrE3X-z05V59GX2vWTTW8B00VGF5RLaHuqxFAeEpL2vCLZuqriQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><h3><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">CosmiKnot spins the vestiges of the fake problem into duct tape fixing a funeral barge sailing to the moon with the precision of a tru throw away note trailing from the crumpled horn of 1/4 million miles Davis</span></h3>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-13126492925648820622023-03-14T09:07:00.059-07:002023-10-28T00:54:23.448-07:00COSMIKNOT > nomadic freedoms of the LyrriK Voyce<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpoNt6gTPg_CMtJQLfb_slweuHs2OUsQ8ThaMbXHMwPiIU7kLVrunNZwSS-yMeqBCt0ifLhL0s1Mp3hDFyOZId0KF_fhDeKrPJnmRGQrdzE5YiqzedJ2I4DB-Fcn-ldchjSgtiHMN3zdQs-W1EvkTP5wHR0ojPDXCfBukLB_zSFKsR5kZFqYRpTyk1w/s796/cosmik-vinyl.jpg" style="clear: left; font-size: 18.66666603088379px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="170" data-original-width="796" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpoNt6gTPg_CMtJQLfb_slweuHs2OUsQ8ThaMbXHMwPiIU7kLVrunNZwSS-yMeqBCt0ifLhL0s1Mp3hDFyOZId0KF_fhDeKrPJnmRGQrdzE5YiqzedJ2I4DB-Fcn-ldchjSgtiHMN3zdQs-W1EvkTP5wHR0ojPDXCfBukLB_zSFKsR5kZFqYRpTyk1w/w718-h152/cosmik-vinyl.jpg" width="718" /></a></p><div style="text-align: left;"><h1></h1><h2 style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHImxXv72BPK3DTHrra7-FvkZ_4j8Ys8cT2qhY070rZGl7zKSB4X7Zy31IMzlWEgKfYodQaWgk1AwTc5RKq_Y888Dp9Y-HBkrgHpA_RBI2G56Jr0UOYZ48qlfKOpHNitFcb3nBEyQfxSbFaXx9wAM9c3e_qDQVqtX8WukoMJx2VhIxkDzqN0Yp1xq_adQO/s4032/electrikalissia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHImxXv72BPK3DTHrra7-FvkZ_4j8Ys8cT2qhY070rZGl7zKSB4X7Zy31IMzlWEgKfYodQaWgk1AwTc5RKq_Y888Dp9Y-HBkrgHpA_RBI2G56Jr0UOYZ48qlfKOpHNitFcb3nBEyQfxSbFaXx9wAM9c3e_qDQVqtX8WukoMJx2VhIxkDzqN0Yp1xq_adQO/w240-h320/electrikalissia.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: courier;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xab48Ny5RpU" width="320" youtube-src-id="xab48Ny5RpU"></iframe>the solution is a bassline and an ancient future outlook. Onward to p.e.a.c.e. <a href="http://platformsproject.com">Platforms Athens</a></span></h2><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="472" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UnWqDB33vro" width="568" youtube-src-id="UnWqDB33vro"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><h1><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">CosmiKnot spins the vestiges of the fake problem into duct tape fixing a funeral barge sailing to the moon with the precision of a tru throw away note trailing from the crumpled horn of 1/4 million miles Davis</span></h1></div></div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_kdNzDt5mZIdyMiFgGm-J7g0jZyV0oSDV6ncgSTGrzr-9cyzXQy8thYh1GDkyQ2P_8XrE52gmTlEHni6ADRta3HOYUveBxNis31CmbGWileCHlpHawabOZEPET7pmGwY0tJwW4RkN28XvCQq3pO8rspmkM-9eMLRDKpO6HchQvQ3cO12jIIjboG-Vg/s828/IMG_B8D32CA2211C-1.jpeg" style="font-family: "Lazenby Computer Smooth"; font-size: 14pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="828" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_kdNzDt5mZIdyMiFgGm-J7g0jZyV0oSDV6ncgSTGrzr-9cyzXQy8thYh1GDkyQ2P_8XrE52gmTlEHni6ADRta3HOYUveBxNis31CmbGWileCHlpHawabOZEPET7pmGwY0tJwW4RkN28XvCQq3pO8rspmkM-9eMLRDKpO6HchQvQ3cO12jIIjboG-Vg/w640-h480/IMG_B8D32CA2211C-1.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><h3><span style="color: #ff00fe; font-family: arial;"><span><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;"><i><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></i></span></span></span><i>Curated by Dr Mikey Georgeson and Samuel Zealey</i></h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="267" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8e88nEwy7uc" width="322" youtube-src-id="8e88nEwy7uc"></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='324' height='268' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzM3JOBngjGFLflqDXQXwtodGg5hngboidePNgzDgUohjsblneKCPgcGoAUha7UOJbYNhY5gkEqkmfhJpMTtQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Rp_ZpX0ymWKwWmsVKUvlUOz2shevTPRpBjT_Vr36PUQNL2QA3WKfaHT5NB9cO1oQDVl5G1B8d-Xeg6RNs2qfOdHWmxLV910F1-cRLeXJpeyyNmkDMMh2s-_IT1NSZgBvFYjzE2ZtCPmI64l4AluqYLWl3Z8gXXLKosJQN2YwpR1HiggTMhYVkpmVZQ/s223/IMG_5310.jpg" style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="223" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Rp_ZpX0ymWKwWmsVKUvlUOz2shevTPRpBjT_Vr36PUQNL2QA3WKfaHT5NB9cO1oQDVl5G1B8d-Xeg6RNs2qfOdHWmxLV910F1-cRLeXJpeyyNmkDMMh2s-_IT1NSZgBvFYjzE2ZtCPmI64l4AluqYLWl3Z8gXXLKosJQN2YwpR1HiggTMhYVkpmVZQ/w118-h117/IMG_5310.jpg" width="118" /></a><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b style="font-size: x-large;"> </b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGtAd4wSgjyi9Y_TZrF_rPGexE7D0VXPfPigh7nSbOzqFQDFzbsqSa2t_iHsFXzBUYaGFbcGBiAqqPPhlY6Kk14Ck0G9AlH6edwghhEBLK_M0moA-bjETmQd4GuWvDOPAtFa0SkDa7-oRFmscG3D2hTfZeiDKDtdXgW6JjGDWSgs6MJd10ROvsD8i5nw" style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="200" height="84" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGtAd4wSgjyi9Y_TZrF_rPGexE7D0VXPfPigh7nSbOzqFQDFzbsqSa2t_iHsFXzBUYaGFbcGBiAqqPPhlY6Kk14Ck0G9AlH6edwghhEBLK_M0moA-bjETmQd4GuWvDOPAtFa0SkDa7-oRFmscG3D2hTfZeiDKDtdXgW6JjGDWSgs6MJd10ROvsD8i5nw=w84-h84" width="84" /></a><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">30th March - 15th April AVA, UEL, E16 2RD</span></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-size: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://www.artrabbit.com/events/cosmiknot">A collective speculative temporary community. Re-enchanting the region of disenchantment through the shifting myth-concepts of Aesthetic Ontology. </a> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-size: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-size: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">CosmiKnot is a space to gather in community as social unit to understand through the speculative ritual of <b>Perforum</b></span></span></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;"><i style="font-size: 16pt; font-weight: normal;">We selected artists with conviction in weaving specific contingent personal mythology into shifting performative ritual transformation of encounter with a materially vital entity that speaks back.</i><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">My-Key</span></span></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;">Hassan Aliyu, Yasmeen Ally El Araby, Bry Ford, Caroline Gregory, My-key, Isabell Metsäpelto, Tony Moon, Venetia Nevill, Ade Ogundimu, Margaret Prescod, Christy Taylor, Gav Toye, Kevin Warren, Samuel Zealey</span></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; margin: 0cm;"><i>We don't obtain knowledge by standing outside the world; we know because we are of the world. </i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; margin: 0cm;">Karen Barad, Meeting the Universe Halfway</p></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Barad’s simple statement is impossibly tangled to grasp for the human control-module mind that has forgotten placing itself outside the world in order to obtain knowledge. The artists in this exhibition create a Cosmiknot by weaving this problem (Not!) into the vibrant matter of an extra-embodied encounter with knowing. Their art, whether we like it or not, works as what Barad suggests is, “part of the world in its differential becoming”. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: 14pt;">Incantation: </span><i style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: 14pt;">re-enchanting the disenchanted</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpoNt6gTPg_CMtJQLfb_slweuHs2OUsQ8ThaMbXHMwPiIU7kLVrunNZwSS-yMeqBCt0ifLhL0s1Mp3hDFyOZId0KF_fhDeKrPJnmRGQrdzE5YiqzedJ2I4DB-Fcn-ldchjSgtiHMN3zdQs-W1EvkTP5wHR0ojPDXCfBukLB_zSFKsR5kZFqYRpTyk1w/s796/cosmik-vinyl.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #afbf38; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="170" data-original-width="796" height="68" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpoNt6gTPg_CMtJQLfb_slweuHs2OUsQ8ThaMbXHMwPiIU7kLVrunNZwSS-yMeqBCt0ifLhL0s1Mp3hDFyOZId0KF_fhDeKrPJnmRGQrdzE5YiqzedJ2I4DB-Fcn-ldchjSgtiHMN3zdQs-W1EvkTP5wHR0ojPDXCfBukLB_zSFKsR5kZFqYRpTyk1w/w320-h68/cosmik-vinyl.jpg" style="border: 0px; height: auto; max-width: 100%;" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 14pt; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span><p style="font-family: Lora, serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal;"></p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" style="font-weight: normal;" /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: 16pt;"><i><span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;">1 </span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: xx-large;">Ade Ogundimu</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXeOOqp_h9fNLljzCXJ1_fpXTQRGJT_TenV434YWAWODq6ovdvMi0ihhS_qbBezOabkVcwERYbvExIjjJHLmf3uMqxXRegvoTxP-aJZYkopOjGPRCF6_8Z91gx4D0VR__r_dN8CfdZbWGM8XbtgtnQ-LnaGbSWn5V-7jGnPPoTSreHiFf7GpN4QZrnVg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXeOOqp_h9fNLljzCXJ1_fpXTQRGJT_TenV434YWAWODq6ovdvMi0ihhS_qbBezOabkVcwERYbvExIjjJHLmf3uMqxXRegvoTxP-aJZYkopOjGPRCF6_8Z91gx4D0VR__r_dN8CfdZbWGM8XbtgtnQ-LnaGbSWn5V-7jGnPPoTSreHiFf7GpN4QZrnVg=w192-h143" width="192" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">one rose</span></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">2 Christy Taylor (with) </span><span style="color: #242424; font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); font-size: x-large;">MyKey</span><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjfplxo3FOP70DNwNYWOcS96gij2jKS9Vak-0WiH-9lPJfugAtwIHsNteHqeoP4GsbhgQWNr_JlvpUm-qy94Y0BdcBHv1mKI1GrAjqw5N0k32J1fVUQuOMLFUDV9PAGsdCUr8xYfCUGWrJ1DGY0TWqJiiy4oYAco3oDuYHPZpAWCsLG-1kD_iExVWbb_A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjfplxo3FOP70DNwNYWOcS96gij2jKS9Vak-0WiH-9lPJfugAtwIHsNteHqeoP4GsbhgQWNr_JlvpUm-qy94Y0BdcBHv1mKI1GrAjqw5N0k32J1fVUQuOMLFUDV9PAGsdCUr8xYfCUGWrJ1DGY0TWqJiiy4oYAco3oDuYHPZpAWCsLG-1kD_iExVWbb_A" width="180" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); font-size: medium;">LCD candles (</span><span style="font-size: medium;">CosmiKnot)</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">3 </span></span><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Isabell Metsäpelto</span></div></span><span style="color: #242424; font-family: courier;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); text-align: left;"></span></span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); clear: both; color: black; font-family: courier; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCzWpYEmRzlLQfKbkFLb-54OMnIlwo9JcOoI9KPivV7sEq_eBtLwXw0t3VnUTCcKBXDUdyvSFbBdoQXU_2FgPZ1rKt3k7Hx53m7fwURCQYIofCmcPRu9_NpnqYyr5IyFoj8Pbj3bedLKzPXtJFEgfhLrdGxwSi2SePAdDEaj0PXzIjjRELMHcKBW85Xg=w132-h176" width="132" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgB8RC6KYIESo4Fgt1nXnbxOGnedaPj0SfMLRCJIlyW0wEBSK5wOCbc-wddIA9fk4NFJMb2igxE0w8Z4mSFvLbCMnfvILgDfYc9MpZLEogmZ0I25NFLI-oxBCV-XH5zogWvGnpsQWrgQLgFqa-Ap02k3HJIz39keMYDqBaY7P2iYeemP5z5J67lRuTbhg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgB8RC6KYIESo4Fgt1nXnbxOGnedaPj0SfMLRCJIlyW0wEBSK5wOCbc-wddIA9fk4NFJMb2igxE0w8Z4mSFvLbCMnfvILgDfYc9MpZLEogmZ0I25NFLI-oxBCV-XH5zogWvGnpsQWrgQLgFqa-Ap02k3HJIz39keMYDqBaY7P2iYeemP5z5J67lRuTbhg=w125-h167" width="125" /></a></div></div></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don't look at me when I'm feeling wild</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">4 </span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Venetia Nevill</span><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjloU5fCAUVnCsHeJ1QxKxelU6OknKrKiPiMJkEEontQ7lzJGBk3pwlZKFj83H5pAj59jbJo3LCp0hQR13SqWjQCdCSki8swDvB2WQInMH6xzUqzd1t8-V7Mpp_35dZhZzghv0d_nhyxm3PmUa9QmVnTTtnM60sxKDbyOdhB5lbPBEyIYUVfjCoEpJz8g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjloU5fCAUVnCsHeJ1QxKxelU6OknKrKiPiMJkEEontQ7lzJGBk3pwlZKFj83H5pAj59jbJo3LCp0hQR13SqWjQCdCSki8swDvB2WQInMH6xzUqzd1t8-V7Mpp_35dZhZzghv0d_nhyxm3PmUa9QmVnTTtnM60sxKDbyOdhB5lbPBEyIYUVfjCoEpJz8g=w154-h205" width="154" /></a></div></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Spring Equinox healing ritual artefacts</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: courier; font-size: x-large;">5 </span><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-size: large;">Bry Ford</span><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVRaLYSZljCReufV41dmTvvZzrcUh2BrB5YytaSCG-BGFamk37B5UpVAifOvm1Pa1m5kJg5NC12eQJW1cI6HRwQnNPMoimuXJ68QvmsPeHg4iyqmI5koVnRpWj3_0szLNOAr4s2hc0QYZ31x8edpr4-TVFQ0NRAbILnWjbxlDKIuEtSmPPHcLvrUOidA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVRaLYSZljCReufV41dmTvvZzrcUh2BrB5YytaSCG-BGFamk37B5UpVAifOvm1Pa1m5kJg5NC12eQJW1cI6HRwQnNPMoimuXJ68QvmsPeHg4iyqmI5koVnRpWj3_0szLNOAr4s2hc0QYZ31x8edpr4-TVFQ0NRAbILnWjbxlDKIuEtSmPPHcLvrUOidA=w139-h185" width="139" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Silver Cat in Pink</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">6 </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Caroline </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Gregory</span></div><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihGBbBzbr3NBuUYGDhwF9aFPhsNjIyfBtzb5zlFl7Kamsz48YVrnCLZ4vbPIiMUFWWZi3J1Z6M4FTBzmbJi9LFP5aBKCaRx2REmhI2u8Cvsj50lP-VGAZR5U5H6mlBzkbtONJNFFz_tDNZXpb9_GfyReSisdck4oUVTTGLccQaR5qE66LhZlTpdijUBg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihGBbBzbr3NBuUYGDhwF9aFPhsNjIyfBtzb5zlFl7Kamsz48YVrnCLZ4vbPIiMUFWWZi3J1Z6M4FTBzmbJi9LFP5aBKCaRx2REmhI2u8Cvsj50lP-VGAZR5U5H6mlBzkbtONJNFFz_tDNZXpb9_GfyReSisdck4oUVTTGLccQaR5qE66LhZlTpdijUBg=w162-h216" width="162" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Morrigan perfomance piece</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">7 </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Yasmeen </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Ally El Araby</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 21.33333396911621px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglQvoksG6pkHlmiwrLIRQcySoEw1xAPsgaWHxfH2bYt3fERzlrZfAmr0bCvbaRAqClAaw7VllyR9yrxGUm7LsRUQTrjfJSi36jbhtS1xlG4t7aHxM5n5mIQPCR86oRL9SoRZftpk1xaNFLmOy5lkUiZyD3H0EvemUTAfhRfKzE2WeKFYmNmWqyoeCzOQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglQvoksG6pkHlmiwrLIRQcySoEw1xAPsgaWHxfH2bYt3fERzlrZfAmr0bCvbaRAqClAaw7VllyR9yrxGUm7LsRUQTrjfJSi36jbhtS1xlG4t7aHxM5n5mIQPCR86oRL9SoRZftpk1xaNFLmOy5lkUiZyD3H0EvemUTAfhRfKzE2WeKFYmNmWqyoeCzOQ=w138-h184" width="138" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Epic Stoop</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">8 </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); color: #233452; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hassan Aliyu</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5Eypfc3-APH5MXQ4KvRW05kXpwi72WMf79gWyF8Npez0TDnEnR1ZWvEUJLsSCKuF2DiNXXfjbXFZOo2TJFyTrjVi6dVYauHWLYB6QjGslxvaCzgnqSoPxuhl_wyvQHh5S7n0xtDvycJBcY9ZeiNJZbhOysF4S1s2xH9Q_vzCT9WNvU3dO0o4gNzmckw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5Eypfc3-APH5MXQ4KvRW05kXpwi72WMf79gWyF8Npez0TDnEnR1ZWvEUJLsSCKuF2DiNXXfjbXFZOo2TJFyTrjVi6dVYauHWLYB6QjGslxvaCzgnqSoPxuhl_wyvQHh5S7n0xtDvycJBcY9ZeiNJZbhOysF4S1s2xH9Q_vzCT9WNvU3dO0o4gNzmckw=w141-h187" width="141" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Flare</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">9 </span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">k j j warren</span></span></div></span></div></div></span></div></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvAMAnLrzRpvOVI3HlIu4r2_TNOv6WtHcPOoS890DpjgulgZ2dw6dyimsGlpAXNsaY1trQLYVdcBezamez5XAGcHPPEW4Dcbd7F6odkSW528JdJwGbXqgf_DTYgr8Wzftk7cA7RZS5C-T1CVTscNYe_lugps_e61ZYMxwGIhS0Cv5dBhf9FcpQcOoPoA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvAMAnLrzRpvOVI3HlIu4r2_TNOv6WtHcPOoS890DpjgulgZ2dw6dyimsGlpAXNsaY1trQLYVdcBezamez5XAGcHPPEW4Dcbd7F6odkSW528JdJwGbXqgf_DTYgr8Wzftk7cA7RZS5C-T1CVTscNYe_lugps_e61ZYMxwGIhS0Cv5dBhf9FcpQcOoPoA=w156-h208" width="156" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">patterns of transformation</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">10 </span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); color: #233452; font-size: large;">MyKey</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7f62XWAgoTOiPnyPqUNwjv9_CQ8a8GWXLYdCITpwZD8Oqzf5JT4hee2pyyHHAscnkN-GLkILboHR6T4HfybfEwN6pxXl0JT-vAyqaFVZN9aw1baatNDlklBtIfsdiA7Q5d0HSfF3bGJ3fzPVaCSkun2KTBgxLDs-kvh-gx_Vm_Yf751H73i9YhiryWQ/s4032/blurryman-installed.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7f62XWAgoTOiPnyPqUNwjv9_CQ8a8GWXLYdCITpwZD8Oqzf5JT4hee2pyyHHAscnkN-GLkILboHR6T4HfybfEwN6pxXl0JT-vAyqaFVZN9aw1baatNDlklBtIfsdiA7Q5d0HSfF3bGJ3fzPVaCSkun2KTBgxLDs-kvh-gx_Vm_Yf751H73i9YhiryWQ/w190-h253/blurryman-installed.jpg" width="190" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); clear: both; color: #233452; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); clear: both; color: #233452; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There but for the grace of god go I</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); clear: both; color: #233452; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"></span></span></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); clear: both; color: #233452; text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">11 </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Tony Moon</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); clear: both; color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6xA9PZ2kDQS3cMdd2ZBSOcPXZNy8MLNT7HG6GZXvZM-hQfaPfnJY0sSkL78mLXxNEybynXXkGageVTVdkq60yT23Rrirns-z1VGcB3hNyfCu1NV22jaXKtyvbF1lSD6Ew4r9rzu_Vw6-FFXDGteFBIciSbqzbYyqDlqplly3D4FjBkCGQpxdUEZBzDw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6xA9PZ2kDQS3cMdd2ZBSOcPXZNy8MLNT7HG6GZXvZM-hQfaPfnJY0sSkL78mLXxNEybynXXkGageVTVdkq60yT23Rrirns-z1VGcB3hNyfCu1NV22jaXKtyvbF1lSD6Ew4r9rzu_Vw6-FFXDGteFBIciSbqzbYyqDlqplly3D4FjBkCGQpxdUEZBzDw=w201-h268" width="201" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is a chord</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: courier; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">12 </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); color: #233452; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gav Toye</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOffy0qVhHGDrMud5azcEfndaqIV6Tq6hUCHOu9x2oTXI2q5uKczQAfdgbl9v3bjrVtZXyWgld7WL1fWoGvYscfknaEqtX9fbJNilbUjm-INnaMNj3G_-_B8rQD_bWwtpoRfB2eHg1QIsjENc6k38gQS7ep0mBv1AFmKFLroZjzpYh6C4Mq65ILM842A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOffy0qVhHGDrMud5azcEfndaqIV6Tq6hUCHOu9x2oTXI2q5uKczQAfdgbl9v3bjrVtZXyWgld7WL1fWoGvYscfknaEqtX9fbJNilbUjm-INnaMNj3G_-_B8rQD_bWwtpoRfB2eHg1QIsjENc6k38gQS7ep0mBv1AFmKFLroZjzpYh6C4Mq65ILM842A=w166-h221" width="166" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: 17px; letter-spacing: -0.3700000047683716px; text-align: start;">Painting-object-figure-zombie-hippy-1, 2021</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: 17px; letter-spacing: -0.3700000047683716px; text-align: start;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">13 </span><span style="color: #233452; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sam Zealey</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2PK7gJxg763S0qRtyOMRtpBk1PeJe4zB099oL6L1sYIotmHHoT3RvXbdaAbafnwSS0pxzYhGGLcs3u9swWy-sJ16F3Wd3POSvkzLf4DpF4hz4oQDNY2P8CiLirQ5NVXltxYsiJLeu1ScjvqM7T6cIo_iD6BsbtB09uulkmhBV_QfhW_A5BaRAcYV4Ww" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2PK7gJxg763S0qRtyOMRtpBk1PeJe4zB099oL6L1sYIotmHHoT3RvXbdaAbafnwSS0pxzYhGGLcs3u9swWy-sJ16F3Wd3POSvkzLf4DpF4hz4oQDNY2P8CiLirQ5NVXltxYsiJLeu1ScjvqM7T6cIo_iD6BsbtB09uulkmhBV_QfhW_A5BaRAcYV4Ww=w141-h188" width="141" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">UFO</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">14 </span><span style="color: #233452; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Margaret Prescod</span></span></div><span style="color: #233452; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjg3mppLnVodOXCqaJWM_6vWQlML2BsOQPSReSvDyfPk9Rqj-FbwwWiykjarWzeIg7foBgCLiGJypY08FRvbqRISjal-hWhFr-Cz2BZcGarzrZ2oS80VdZXCXaNKYvjo4FihV0PrDqMcEcdMJuZxhyQQPhXidNOEB1OZnm0izLIyW48GaqETjm4JYkcEg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjg3mppLnVodOXCqaJWM_6vWQlML2BsOQPSReSvDyfPk9Rqj-FbwwWiykjarWzeIg7foBgCLiGJypY08FRvbqRISjal-hWhFr-Cz2BZcGarzrZ2oS80VdZXCXaNKYvjo4FihV0PrDqMcEcdMJuZxhyQQPhXidNOEB1OZnm0izLIyW48GaqETjm4JYkcEg=w161-h214" width="161" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Classy Effigies</span></div><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div></span></div></span></div></div></span></div></div></span></div></div></span></div></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;">Thanks to the University of East London <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tZdqejp-Uf5wErcDCm3Ru2hBjIhuSYnX_32KmYlk2rDAAYVCAbBS-lzeQgn3BLdmamMkXnLkc1dUO7QaFD9rSVvYyNmJOkXwNyd8I5wyL3r3qAwDznAmz2qaC1s_P_J7vg_A7jifUZwG6TGhEFaqOQ9rt_ZxUdpoZiB1Yfc44au5zgMg3PbwTK1ZOA/s224/thumbnail_3.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="36" data-original-width="224" height="36" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tZdqejp-Uf5wErcDCm3Ru2hBjIhuSYnX_32KmYlk2rDAAYVCAbBS-lzeQgn3BLdmamMkXnLkc1dUO7QaFD9rSVvYyNmJOkXwNyd8I5wyL3r3qAwDznAmz2qaC1s_P_J7vg_A7jifUZwG6TGhEFaqOQ9rt_ZxUdpoZiB1Yfc44au5zgMg3PbwTK1ZOA/s1600/thumbnail_3.png" width="224" /></a></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p></div></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhLvZ3aDcq8WQ5ac4vc5I_5Rmnz1ePZBNSom4_qnrKQn6t_3f7pmFrOirzh5dBdjNgUTJsiogGUelldQvGIJpBAIOqVUlQGexYvjOXjbubPQjH_8v5YEh24XWeGBOYGWU9LKeXfZOu0rL2s39T4JorjG6k9ZsvrxZxhWV9aka8u1aoBqGIUZwLpCIFQ/s1648/cosmiknots.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1648" data-original-width="1230" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhLvZ3aDcq8WQ5ac4vc5I_5Rmnz1ePZBNSom4_qnrKQn6t_3f7pmFrOirzh5dBdjNgUTJsiogGUelldQvGIJpBAIOqVUlQGexYvjOXjbubPQjH_8v5YEh24XWeGBOYGWU9LKeXfZOu0rL2s39T4JorjG6k9ZsvrxZxhWV9aka8u1aoBqGIUZwLpCIFQ/w295-h394/cosmiknots.jpg" width="295" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Calibri, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 18.66666603088379px;">The exhibition features international artists from inside and outside The University of East London. The works seek to contribute to the idea of proliferating a capacity for cultural shift through art practice. The selected artists reveal how the seemingly private process of creative expression is simultaneously a part of a speculative plurality. T</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 18.66666603088379px; font-variant-caps: inherit;">he problem becomes woven into the solution of process. </span><span style="font-size: 18.66666603088379px;">Their conviction is enough for a transforming shift to occur simply because, as Barad suggests, human imagination really is a part of the known universe. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><i><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><i><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif">We don't obtain knowledge by standing outside the world; we know because we are of the world. </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Karen Barad, Meeting the Universe Halfway</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Barad’s simple statement is impossibly tangled to grasp for the human control-module mind that has forgotten placing itself outside the world in order to obtain knowledge. The artists in this exhibition create a Cosmiknot by weaving this problem (Not!) into the vibrant matter of an extra-embodied encounter with knowing. Their art, whether we like it or not, works as what Barad suggests is, “part of the world in its differential becoming”. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: 14pt;">Incantation: </span><i style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: 14pt;">re-enchanting the disenchanted</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpoNt6gTPg_CMtJQLfb_slweuHs2OUsQ8ThaMbXHMwPiIU7kLVrunNZwSS-yMeqBCt0ifLhL0s1Mp3hDFyOZId0KF_fhDeKrPJnmRGQrdzE5YiqzedJ2I4DB-Fcn-ldchjSgtiHMN3zdQs-W1EvkTP5wHR0ojPDXCfBukLB_zSFKsR5kZFqYRpTyk1w/s796/cosmik-vinyl.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="170" data-original-width="796" height="68" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpoNt6gTPg_CMtJQLfb_slweuHs2OUsQ8ThaMbXHMwPiIU7kLVrunNZwSS-yMeqBCt0ifLhL0s1Mp3hDFyOZId0KF_fhDeKrPJnmRGQrdzE5YiqzedJ2I4DB-Fcn-ldchjSgtiHMN3zdQs-W1EvkTP5wHR0ojPDXCfBukLB_zSFKsR5kZFqYRpTyk1w/w320-h68/cosmik-vinyl.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); color: #233452;">Hassan Aliyu, FRSA </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16pt;"><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); color: #233452; font-size: 15px;">A British / Nigerian artist whose large-scale collaged paintings are centred on the African diaspora experience of racism and othering. His practice explores issues connected to socio-economic destabilisation and anti-blackness — legacies of enslavement and colonialism.</span><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(35, 52, 82); color: #233452; font-size: 15px;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16pt;"><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-size: 15px;"><i><span color="rgb(35, 52, 82) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“The sources of Hassan’s work both historical and contemporary, are often metaphors for wider themes of race and change. The sheer dynamism of Hassan’s work is particularly clear. He binds energy and movement in paint producing vibrant images that fascinate and provoke. With references in technique to the dynamic images of the Italian Futurists, Hassan elucidates themes and issues with an absorbing lyricism and energy.” </span></i></span><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="rgb(35, 52, 82) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span><span color="rgb(35, 52, 82) !important" face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="border: 0px; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">– Mark Bills</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16pt;"><span color="rgb(35, 52, 82) !important" face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="border: 0px; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: courier;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 16pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadziFuEpOorYX1k9ZGdpAMXeIIUj7ynRj2M1uA30SBnUW8oCff-r_uFIqIy75zXyzJ8If_vvZ_UmTRiUURu7wQfOXFAadc9t7A0O4OEzE4DhYutvq5oHH8Zw9Jpmzj8sMd_65jvIte9uLBA8Do9yHaZ0jZgi-a4WMin7RQj2tz1_nl55DO5uJoLfSdA/s591/hassan.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="591" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadziFuEpOorYX1k9ZGdpAMXeIIUj7ynRj2M1uA30SBnUW8oCff-r_uFIqIy75zXyzJ8If_vvZ_UmTRiUURu7wQfOXFAadc9t7A0O4OEzE4DhYutvq5oHH8Zw9Jpmzj8sMd_65jvIte9uLBA8Do9yHaZ0jZgi-a4WMin7RQj2tz1_nl55DO5uJoLfSdA/s320/hassan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 16pt; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 16pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Yasmeen Ally El Araby</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;">Art has always been integral to my identity, when little, my mother and I would invent projects together using cardboard and other materials to make costumes and toys. This is likely to be why cardboard has a strong relationship to my current practise, the need for reinvention using familiar material. Moving to England, leaving my father and way of life behind in Egypt has perhaps led to my process of creating a world of shifting mythologies as a way of understanding. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-va_-ObUa6Kurhm1LgLCn93FVWfqOipA01JnQPdyG8c5ESWNB9XtSGnyc88pM9W9upO969E5_sjZ_nD2e4F2mUneNDA6JSAGDk4-RPYPixthdiywGfn3FZcD0HILy0fGfJg3AO-wAVQZD3h-zHCHT2nl3PPzfQNfh-u6h5YVjJjbfxuCDteYsvyJoGg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1172" data-original-width="1222" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-va_-ObUa6Kurhm1LgLCn93FVWfqOipA01JnQPdyG8c5ESWNB9XtSGnyc88pM9W9upO969E5_sjZ_nD2e4F2mUneNDA6JSAGDk4-RPYPixthdiywGfn3FZcD0HILy0fGfJg3AO-wAVQZD3h-zHCHT2nl3PPzfQNfh-u6h5YVjJjbfxuCDteYsvyJoGg=w400-h384" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(38, 38, 38); color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">‘The epic stoop’ </span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(38, 38, 38); color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Automated painting, </span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(38, 38, 38); color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Oil on cardboard</span></div><br /><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bry Ford</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">I tend to get my inspiration from within a socio-cultural context, which includes, observations within parks, bars and outside spaces. I appreciate how people and animals interrelate with the environment – for me I am intrigued with how we exist within ‘nature'.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsRzKXQdv2m-Jxc3gYjkwIQ-UyNNDj0gaTAWobe-KngOobkIkNK9bQkqtm2PQi1htQtNrm_z-YMGVmBhKQ-AOuyoEKgs0eDZdP5c5jrnKHJT7gNWgEgmsDLrpyQHZ9KYCnlZadoZxjPmIvaP3cLCK3_VrP0wq6rI_3YHj2KG0NqBrvsdwbKnzWYxQb8g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="781" data-original-width="620" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsRzKXQdv2m-Jxc3gYjkwIQ-UyNNDj0gaTAWobe-KngOobkIkNK9bQkqtm2PQi1htQtNrm_z-YMGVmBhKQ-AOuyoEKgs0eDZdP5c5jrnKHJT7gNWgEgmsDLrpyQHZ9KYCnlZadoZxjPmIvaP3cLCK3_VrP0wq6rI_3YHj2KG0NqBrvsdwbKnzWYxQb8g=w318-h400" width="318" /></a></div><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Caroline Gregory</span></p><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span color="rgb(16, 0, 0) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: Arial; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">continuing exploration of stories, feelings, memories, or beliefs that may be held in space, body, and </span><span color="rgb(16, 0, 0) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: Arial; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">object. </span></i></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span color="rgb(16, 0, 0) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: Arial; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sifting meanings that may be trapped, stuck, or simply needing an outing and folding together old and new materials, consistently stitching, textiles and ceramics, the work truly finds life, expansion, and release through its audience. </span></i></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span color="rgb(16, 0, 0) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: Arial; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></i></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;"></span></p><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWB9zCfZSWgNdYDXpOWkUXsyZXwfSI9lKTXCGIITanuF7TU909gDfuKe2C_9ShPDmm5L6YJWC-bM4U_fY8K_L4KbO50S13yvnre0Ca8DMY6LIydqBRkgokFG-v_Ny8U7h66Fo9ZFfhxpeNuoyyQlq-UqcEzgcgHMlRdLja6Zvq1WS7zlLp5tMFZZgxmg/s898/Gregory-Morrigan.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="817" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWB9zCfZSWgNdYDXpOWkUXsyZXwfSI9lKTXCGIITanuF7TU909gDfuKe2C_9ShPDmm5L6YJWC-bM4U_fY8K_L4KbO50S13yvnre0Ca8DMY6LIydqBRkgokFG-v_Ny8U7h66Fo9ZFfhxpeNuoyyQlq-UqcEzgcgHMlRdLja6Zvq1WS7zlLp5tMFZZgxmg/w300-h330/Gregory-Morrigan.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; text-align: center;">Morrigan (performance) 2023</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><div style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Isabell Metsäpelto </span></span></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: white;">Born in Sweden now lives and works in London. Her work is characterized by her observation of the surroundings around her, as well as her imagination, which she then moulds together to build obscure worlds in the form of paintings, drawings, and sculptures. Isabell finds inspiration from the world of cars, which is a central theme in many of her pieces. She aims to bring forth the world of her mind's narration, ambiguous relationships, and absurd scenarios.</span></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div><div style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: white;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHDhQbPFs9TlUrNI_JwbQsiVZue6OLt7t3Gdgbv1ZLuHBoMNyow9m69hhWIBFeWfSTcyzi_JxlVuUrgjhX2MPVwh8zsLFT5oIUPjEOswuR9PL-zRAN2wdSahS2V6I1KXCJOwtuTnbWj3jgIGq0Hmu7Gk72Zj5Dn0KK0a4aq-xLIHZ1JstxmK7OEjqcBg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1658" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHDhQbPFs9TlUrNI_JwbQsiVZue6OLt7t3Gdgbv1ZLuHBoMNyow9m69hhWIBFeWfSTcyzi_JxlVuUrgjhX2MPVwh8zsLFT5oIUPjEOswuR9PL-zRAN2wdSahS2V6I1KXCJOwtuTnbWj3jgIGq0Hmu7Gk72Zj5Dn0KK0a4aq-xLIHZ1JstxmK7OEjqcBg=w323-h400" width="323" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><i>I have puddles in my eyes</i>, ink on paper 2023</div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="x_p1" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-size: 23.3px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-size: 23.29px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Venetia Nevill</span></span><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 23.29px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></p><p class="x_p1" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: arial;">An artist and earth tender who creates sensory and experiential work to express an intuitive relationship with the felt and unseen She is inspired by the cyclical rhythms of nature and her art is a homage to this elemental connection. Her ecologically informed rituals and mandalas are pathways to healing and transformation.</span></span></p><p class="x_p1" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0" data-safelink="true" href="https://protect-eu.mimecast.com/s/AcjBCY6AAh1yLZ7c0bf4K?domain=venetianevill.com" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">www.venetianevill.com</a> </span></p><p class="x_p1" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Instagram/venetianevill</span></p><p class="x_p1" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p class="x_p1" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span class="x_s1" color="inherit" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFqwdV1_PIWW4DeyOvijJ-q50T3mjsRUInfNcXhxcQiCakXh81I-nLJpQOvUaKJX7HuHt1DzR-j2Gkgn4MU1rzfZK8Rj-cV9_Sn1crDgQEt7S82yNrIHHrx8mwyTOi2q3AfuVN5IAxXlx1ZkxrU3OJGoDoy7RxAMSIwJ54DAomahD6hkUuRINBmQ5RcQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFqwdV1_PIWW4DeyOvijJ-q50T3mjsRUInfNcXhxcQiCakXh81I-nLJpQOvUaKJX7HuHt1DzR-j2Gkgn4MU1rzfZK8Rj-cV9_Sn1crDgQEt7S82yNrIHHrx8mwyTOi2q3AfuVN5IAxXlx1ZkxrU3OJGoDoy7RxAMSIwJ54DAomahD6hkUuRINBmQ5RcQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-large; font-style: normal; text-align: start;">Ade Ogundimu</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif;"><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He employs a vast array of materials for painting, sculpture and ceramics. <i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; display: inline; text-align: center;"><i style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; display: inline; text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: start;">Currently in the 4th year of the DFA programme, graduated with a HND in Painting from the School of Art Yaba College of Technology Lagos, Nigeria. His</span></div></i></div></i> art is centred on studies that focus on the postcolonial legacies of Empire on the African continent. My sources, both contemporary and historical are descriptions for wider themes of National Identity, Human rights and a fusion of cultures. <i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; display: inline; text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: start;">Recent exhibitions include Legacies of Biafra touring exhibition recently shown at the Brunel Gallery S.O.A.S and Gallery Oldham, Greater Manchester.</span></div></i></span></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Twitter: @gudums Instagram: @gudums www.ogundimu.com</span></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 15px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEEdY9AZXLDmMDLh5cH1UhrXyuoGdqwirVYdtiTMpnrcettVzWJ0wGWJeW3iRMEWu0q0KtGz0EoVljfFIy-0BDtDEkpRVJUIL2_J8JPM7zvApyFLsKvmBRMEIsJRinkveMBpmSdw4wTP5UazQv5Y4HF251UPfmIEAfHQbwthEllnElt7FBHUsS9dQeaQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="828" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEEdY9AZXLDmMDLh5cH1UhrXyuoGdqwirVYdtiTMpnrcettVzWJ0wGWJeW3iRMEWu0q0KtGz0EoVljfFIy-0BDtDEkpRVJUIL2_J8JPM7zvApyFLsKvmBRMEIsJRinkveMBpmSdw4wTP5UazQv5Y4HF251UPfmIEAfHQbwthEllnElt7FBHUsS9dQeaQ=w322-h400" width="322" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 15px;"><i>Before the Plunder</i>, Charred wood, ceramics and more, 2022</div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 15px;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Tony Moon</span></div><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); clear: both; color: #242424; font-family: courier; text-align: start;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">My interest in art has always been a constant. I like the work of: Friedemann Hahn, Dennis Creffield, Roy Oxlade, Jack B. Yeats, Frank Auerbach. My favourite “art place” to hang out is Barney’s Beanery by Ed Keinholtz. I have been drawing and painting consistently for the past 8/9 years. Learning, pushing. Finding out. Making mistakes. When I am working I am listening to: Captain Beefheart, Miles Davis, Doll By Doll, Muddy Waters., Charles Mingus. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I like to work quickly and intuitively. If it feels contrived paint it black.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMzjCA7SXH2pcT2B8NPnwictK0NYBU8o0swIGmdpvZA4tCvn3QdJ65ab6e3kwkEKBv3ybwYgDkPb4k7O-VeT3PfJSR5Z50ktBy1G-Wa7ypkyS8xJPTF-a5e-UFwQzKZpWR5fIdepCworWFSnaGlTQALqnZNayvVe1dF0_bVT5i8118HzE6NB0UbY9Lw/s291/thumbnail_IMG_2183.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="241" data-original-width="291" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMzjCA7SXH2pcT2B8NPnwictK0NYBU8o0swIGmdpvZA4tCvn3QdJ65ab6e3kwkEKBv3ybwYgDkPb4k7O-VeT3PfJSR5Z50ktBy1G-Wa7ypkyS8xJPTF-a5e-UFwQzKZpWR5fIdepCworWFSnaGlTQALqnZNayvVe1dF0_bVT5i8118HzE6NB0UbY9Lw/w400-h331/thumbnail_IMG_2183.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Tunnel</i>, oil on paper, 2022</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><div><span style="color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: x-large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36);">Christy Taylor</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;">Without a trace of remorse or respite, Taylor avariciously consumes eras and artists, from the cafes of post war Zurich to the scenic swamps of Instagram, nothing is off limits. Taylor hails from the riot torn streets of South London and induces the viewer into Christ-y-like devotion. Also good at making Spaghetti Bolognaise. STREAM. STREAM STREAM STREAM STREAM STREAM. STREAM STREAM. STREAM.SAY IT S-L-O-W-L-Y STREAM. STREAM. STREAM.</span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyI2OPXOkyUUQ2DY2PPYZH-AxCx8BOe5SiNyY8qLWTANW6nHzHz88-Sb6yfwhkW5ehR69pqT6gRjMJbpOn1A3jUIquCFmY0qgsIWi934uLD-E-RERiHPXNC840vpBWuMJnisxn3MXhvAMVyN5jCCllhiDqarFrRGWNnTS0GgnSg-RP00fjNucvvfBR1Q/s1108/CT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1108" data-original-width="760" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyI2OPXOkyUUQ2DY2PPYZH-AxCx8BOe5SiNyY8qLWTANW6nHzHz88-Sb6yfwhkW5ehR69pqT6gRjMJbpOn1A3jUIquCFmY0qgsIWi934uLD-E-RERiHPXNC840vpBWuMJnisxn3MXhvAMVyN5jCCllhiDqarFrRGWNnTS0GgnSg-RP00fjNucvvfBR1Q/w274-h400/CT.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(38, 38, 38); color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">IRL - oil and crayon on canvas 120x74cm</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(38, 38, 38); color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div></span></div></span></div></div></span></div><div style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: white;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif;"><div style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: courier; font-size: xx-large; text-align: start;">Gav Toye</span></div></span></div></div></div></div></span></div></span></div></div></span></div><div style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;">Gav studied at the Royal College of Art from 2009 - 2011, graduating with an MA in Painting. Before that he was Co-Director of Crimes Town Gallery in London from 2007 – 2010. He moved to Margate from London in 2015 and has continued his painting practice there. He is interested in the history of painting, in particular from an anthropological perspective. Painting movements in Modernism, cave painting, contemporary painting and the loss of narrative after the end of Modernism are his main concerns.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMD3f1gNQMyoTKubNPlyf7EElPLY6RHWPrQXbNBM3M1uY85pUExPoutkSxV242iuohBhRKH_dQDZDnCs-UJ3m8eO5qQ1NXjI5Gpg1h35IxRsRw_eaiu-tLZe47wmlFqe4BWugyZGIvOZJhtuqLVZATisA8orXvzU6OITalGVPeIkvG2YKsxDxl3pGVig/s1424/painting-object-figure-zombie-hippy-1157.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1424" data-original-width="1024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMD3f1gNQMyoTKubNPlyf7EElPLY6RHWPrQXbNBM3M1uY85pUExPoutkSxV242iuohBhRKH_dQDZDnCs-UJ3m8eO5qQ1NXjI5Gpg1h35IxRsRw_eaiu-tLZe47wmlFqe4BWugyZGIvOZJhtuqLVZATisA8orXvzU6OITalGVPeIkvG2YKsxDxl3pGVig/w288-h400/painting-object-figure-zombie-hippy-1157.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://gavtoye.ooorg.org/?section=current&work=157" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Kalam; font-size: 16px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">painting-object-figure-zombie-hippy-1, 2021</a></div><br /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-large;">K J J Warren</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;">K J J Warren is an abstract artist working in drawing and sculpture to explore<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;">ecological intra-relation that connects oneself, to act of making, to elements of sky, sea, and earth. Warren regards these links as a feeding process generative of creative acts, that are poetic encounters, both Inspired by these elements and bothered by how they are being polluted.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: start;">Kjjwarren.com @k.j.j.warren<o:p></o:p></p><div style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2m1yFsejatPo176r8L_mpEAeKFOV7DRNl8yMbN5Q_pI04Rs3cL9QrqhJDhyBBZpfJoqPspeu9Uosm6Mvb6UmJQewwWhBphc9pEJJmlaMR3qy_fUijOe223YzhLbOerjQsFM2d_0Fgap2rzZ0yc46f0V61M51A9iW1r8mcCfV6uLRD6UXptOm8VuqziA/s812/kjjwaren.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="793" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2m1yFsejatPo176r8L_mpEAeKFOV7DRNl8yMbN5Q_pI04Rs3cL9QrqhJDhyBBZpfJoqPspeu9Uosm6Mvb6UmJQewwWhBphc9pEJJmlaMR3qy_fUijOe223YzhLbOerjQsFM2d_0Fgap2rzZ0yc46f0V61M51A9iW1r8mcCfV6uLRD6UXptOm8VuqziA/w391-h400/kjjwaren.jpeg" width="391" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-family: -webkit-standard; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-large;">Samuel Zealey</span></div><p class="font_8" dir="ltr" style="border: 0px; color: rgb(var(--color_15)); font-size: 15px; font: var(--font_8); line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="din-next-w01-light, din-next-w02-light, din-next-w10-light, sans-serif" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Samuel Zealey sees his sculptural work as part of this ongoing and complex conversation, whilst also highlighting the challenges our current environmental climate faces and the moralistic issues brought about by contemporary technological advances. </span></p><p class="font_8" dir="ltr" style="border: 0px; color: rgb(var(--color_15)); font-size: 15px; font: var(--font_8); line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"> <span color="rgb(var(--color_15))" style="font: var(--font_8);">His sculptural works combine playfulness of form with precise engineering and a highly developed material sensitivity. The works radiate a lively aesthetic, alert to the ways in which art and creativity can engage with questions about culture, technology and sustainability.</span></p></div><br /><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOuIVSW21WlnkXlbdpEEifT0GX6vTFX18e1mCixOLEogTle7mZ9XvIeIVCj6kY3zPx1Vqvc_qUbUExiZ7cTAN6GciPz22yNapGNF8H21KoaxZjL5x9GLxcOxkwTx61Rm9qlkJM8GYzXCQqiqX0lTZwV0rIN14LSF-NwaBM7N5ugnec-PnCN0o4C8eSCQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOuIVSW21WlnkXlbdpEEifT0GX6vTFX18e1mCixOLEogTle7mZ9XvIeIVCj6kY3zPx1Vqvc_qUbUExiZ7cTAN6GciPz22yNapGNF8H21KoaxZjL5x9GLxcOxkwTx61Rm9qlkJM8GYzXCQqiqX0lTZwV0rIN14LSF-NwaBM7N5ugnec-PnCN0o4C8eSCQ=w307-h460" width="307" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-large;">MyKey</span></div><p class="p1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px; text-align: start;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Perfect affection is not somewhere up there but here in the tattered wildflower growing on the fly-tipped mattress of our mythic emergence in a tale of true life and real death.<br /> Sometimes described as a bard, Dr MyKey has recently written about his unexpected life as a conduit for a dead magician using the theories of Catherine Malabou concerning the ontology of the accident <a href="https://www.journalofperformancemagic.org.uk/article/id/1062/">here</a></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHxUcltJB3vsZZkTFy-7T0M2IoWUb-mtERJaPGOWb7Xb5BxRDSHuyxF-BLNgF8biVU3qRWJv67CvJFpuf3JzQDnb2_5-n7bVHOGI4aBSWjhNKlrliaqNPvi0k3N4aqPqINWMWqo3jE0PAmU9qdivMCnDw9XpSRLkPuaHaQt4rMFXHAMfi0VKTPokHYmg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1648" data-original-width="1230" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHxUcltJB3vsZZkTFy-7T0M2IoWUb-mtERJaPGOWb7Xb5BxRDSHuyxF-BLNgF8biVU3qRWJv67CvJFpuf3JzQDnb2_5-n7bVHOGI4aBSWjhNKlrliaqNPvi0k3N4aqPqINWMWqo3jE0PAmU9qdivMCnDw9XpSRLkPuaHaQt4rMFXHAMfi0VKTPokHYmg=w274-h367" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There but for the grace of God go I (detail)</div></div></div></div></div></span></div><div style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(36, 36, 36); color: #242424; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: white;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p></p></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></span><span color="rgb(16, 0, 0) !important" style="border: 0px; font-family: Arial; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br aria-hidden="true" /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Gill Sans MT", sans-serif" style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-22418266007033390472022-10-28T05:59:00.003-07:002022-10-28T05:59:38.711-07:00slow glass
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">A strange thing happened</font></span></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">today which I would like to tell you about. I'm reading to you in the voice of John Smith the film maker whose introspective I have just attended at the ICA. Who knows perhaps @theotherjohnsmith will read this into his phone and send it to me. This is not a review. I don't feel I can do that as I rudely left half way through the Q&A due to my usual anxiety about catching trains. I’m not sure where to begin so you will have to forgive me if I digress something John Smith seemed embarrassed to do during the aforementioned Q&A. What I want to tell you about is what I call meaning inside the event. The event like a liquid glass that is not quite as set as we like to see it as being. The glass that becomes blunt over time after being cut and subject to the process of oxidisation. But this is a story which perhaps begins with my visit to Gallery 46 today with the students on the Masters course in Fine Art at the University of East London. It was after all the University of East London where the aforementioned John Smith was my supervisor during my doctoral studies. John Smith who was highly influential in my discovery of the means of activating my capacities for expression through the specifics of my biographical encounters in what I consider to be temporal substance. I was of course aware of John Smith‘s films before visiting the introspective of his films made in the 1980s at the Institute for contemporary art this evening but it was not until I had sat within the cuboid dark of the cinema taking in the narratives that I became aware of his mastery of weaving a contingent story into personal biographical specificities and embodied encounters in the medium of Film. But I am getting ahead of myself so let us return to my meeting with the students of the masters in fine art at Gallery 46 (you really must go there) earlier on today. After gathering outside the Whitechapel gallery we made our way along the high street before turning off towards Ashfield street where we found number 46. Here I had arranged to meet the gallery curator a man called Sean Mclusky who would introduce the students to the space in which there is currently an exhibition of paintings by the musician and artist Gina Birch. I can’t be sure why but as I was leaving something prompted Sean to tell me that glass was not set and was in fact still liquid. Perhaps it came out of a brief discussion about the processual nature of art but I don’t recall this if it was. "Wow" I said as I tend to when I encounter something truly interesting. We discussed the dates of the forthcoming exhibition of student work and made our farewells. After a detour to university to print student work onto acetate in preparation for a darkroom workshop the next day I returned back into town and made my way to the Institute of contemporary art. Upon arrival I first made use of the bathrooms and then went back outside to vape. As I was stepping outside I saw a familiar face. It was the musician and artist Gina Birch. That’s a nice coincidence I thought remembering that many of my fellow artist friends are suspicious of coincidence. In a similar way I felt John Smith, who had been so encouraging of my practice, maintained a distance from more cosmic aspects of my methodology. Outside I also met a dear friend Graham who is one of the sweetest and most insightful artists I know. We spoke briefly about some work of mine Graham had recently found in storage at his gallery space. These were works from a project about a made-up culture called the Deadends. When I went in to take my seat and saw John Smith take to the stage to introduce the films I remembered how the last time I had been in the room I had stood on the same stage alongside John incanting the words "ended ended ended ended" (eventually sounds like deadend) when we both showed short films for the 100 years of Dada Evening. The screening began with Om and I was already familiar with how this film takes a humorous poke at a certain po-faced kind of cosmic spirituality but found myself becoming immersed in the sumptuously simple sound of the om merging into the buzz of the hair trimmers. My familiarity with this film because it was the first of John Smith's films I encountered has perhaps overweighted my tendancy to view his work as absurdly humorous. I had gone to the screening primarily to see a film called The Black Tower on a cinema screen. I wanted to lose myself in its atmosphere of non-orientable otherness without foreclosing what it could mean. Watching it I began to feel a familiar shame that I myself could not be as methodical as John in my approach to art. I was struck by a somewhat zen-like patience that enabled him to enfold the specific biographical encounter with time and place into what I consider the temporal substance of art or in John Smith's case the methodology of film making. Much of the pleasure from watching these films I felt comes from knowing that the juxtapositions are made with a physical material over a period of time. There is something about this process that draws us the audience into the meaning inside the event I thought. I imagined the physical film bobbing and jerking like a large wood pigeon expressing it's wood pigeon-ness. Whilst some of the scripting seemed to gently rib attempts to find philosophical sense I had an intense feeling that we are all sharing something meaningful. How graceful I thought, thinking how the temporal substance of a more enduring kind of change was woven into the more familiar idea of quick filmic cutting. After Dark Tower there was a short film a minute long which again deftly revealed how all perception is contextual even if it was with gentle humour. Then came a film called Slow Glass. This was a film about which I knew nothing at all. It began and before very long at all it became transparently clear that the film was about the fluid nature of glass a substance we consider to be fixed. It was then I remembered that Sean had mentioned this property of glass in response to my description of the non-drying paintings of Alexis the programme leader of the MA in fine art. Alexis had been unable to attend the visit due to a leg injury. I began to feel anxious about leaving for my train home and took my phone from my pocket to see the time. I realised I had been swallowed into the film's transformational tapestry of time weaving imaginary and specific biographical encounters into a sticky celluloid substance and it had somehow become far later than I expected. John took to the stage again this time for a Q&A. He is a very modest and restrained talker. He explained that it was important that half of The Black Tower was actually a blank screen because pictures are better on the radio. He wanted to convey a sense that language is key to triggering an imaginative response. Later when I was hurriedly walking through the darkness of the park towards Victoria station - the park where I had first dated my wife - passing couples sitting on barely perceivable benches, I began to feel that language alone is not an imaginative trigger but rather it is the specific encounter through an intra-relational process that forms the felt intensities of imagined remembering of the present. John's films I thought are an exquisite interweaving of the really real entanglement of emerging into the fiction of what Catherine Malabou describes as the one life only. This is what I consider to be a form of radical empiricism or the perfection of the specific encounter without judgement. I'm not at all sure that John Smith would see his films like this but I recall Carl Jung discussing how moments of synchronicity come into our lives when we find ourselves meeting the universe halfway. </font></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-59865434076519222582022-10-09T04:31:00.001-07:002022-10-09T04:31:12.802-07:00talking to my phone in the woods
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">Is talking to ones self on the walk and a bad thing I had intended to come with my son but my phone will have to do.</font></span></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">So here we are winding our way over the pine needles and the varicose with roots in the woods the windows of us in the trees and I’m approaching a small bridge And it’s delightful banisters and a lady with a chocolate Labrador in her lovely weather Shisha finger you what do you call those things Gina it’s not as you know Sam you know the sort of synthetic woman material. It’ll come to me lots of dog walkers out here I always feel like I’m the weirdo because I don’t have a dog but it is lovely here.. So I’m on the prom prom prom and of the boardwalk which has a nice bring you feel and wanted gaps into which leaves and acorns have settled themselves. Going down a step here and I think about talking into my phone it didn’t worry me it is the fact that it distracts anyway how are you doing phone there in my hand needles leaves in acorns underfoot have to keep talking on the phone. Taking my voice down. The Sun seems to go running which is a shame anyway I’ll plough on thinking of taking a week off work to clear my head just don’t want it to be to the Pete. I was thinking about that whole beat lightning process and how it somehow negates joy of melancholic lyricism. Yes does it enable the stay in your lane resilience that crashes the expressivity of collective is there any more collective am I deluded to believe there is such a thing and Manchester selfish organism longs for feeling. Walking past this film tree which I rather love and there’s some lovely mushrooms growing upon it. Might take a photo of them anyway and we go I do like the compacted mud parts of the woods and they are the expressivity of the Cotswolds. My phone just said Cotswolds instead of Kosmos the Cotswolds knows itself through its expressions yes the middle-class expressions of concern in the us of the middle class what’s a load of wank that I wonder what my phone will say for wank it’s actually did say wank just passed a yapping dachshund who is owner told the girl who was presumably her daughter to be careful as she went to Pettit because he is warning you he’s not happy. This somehow made me sad to think of the way humans project our own messaging onto animals oh well then I passed a lady on another boardwalk who had a lovely mossy cableknit Aaron style jumper I said did you nick that yourself and she said I’m afraid not it’s short board but my mum was very good at knitting she could sit there clacking and come up with these amazing creations whilst you watch the telly but she herself had to sit there and think about what the mood she was making well. This got me thinking about how the skills extra embodied and beyond the realm of cognition like the bird that builds its nest through biosocial feeling. I’m now entering the Jurassic section of the walk and a bird perhaps Robin alighted on the bum to wire it turned away before I could see if it has a red chest feels Jurassic you due to the Prof preponderance of ferns.</font></span></p>
<p class="p2"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s1"></span><br></span></font></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">So then we reach the brow of the hill into the more open area with the pines reaching up into this as your sky is English fluffy clouds yes up ahead he is another dog walker in his fleece his blue teal fleece and he has two hunting dogs sniffing the ground one off the leash and one on the leash they themselves are foraging for the nuts the ones that you cook at Christmas. i’m following the purple arrow down on familiar path and found that I had a tear in the longing as the purple nurse made me recall the reading books from school and the pleasure of making progress through the colours but at the same time feeling somehow left behind by the progress made by those around me I can feel that sadness now just through that colour. The man in the teal fleece it turned out was not one of the middle class us people and we stood discussing the sweet chestnuts I saw him foraging porn on the ground he had to gundogs which I mistakenly referred to as hunting dogs but this did not seem to bother him. He told me how they were rare because of their innate inability to learn recalled his five month old gun dog was still there form on the leash. Still I foraged some of the sweet chestnut and looked up at the leaves which were similar but not as fluoride as the horse chestnut. The man in the teal fleece and the Adidas turquoise Adidas woolly hat told me that people mistake them and this of course led to a discussion about playing conquers at school and how soaking them and vinegar could help I told him that the best thing was keeping them for a year. And I can still remember my all conquering conquer that I had from a year before which demolished all colours. It’s a vista best admired almost one walk through it to appreciate it there is only one way to find out here is a vista with a step made via lock and the gate to self made by the filled willows either side it feels like someone’s car depart inviting me to follow it and yet I felt it was perhaps better to admire the path from afar rather than follow it but I am now following it and sometimes I think it’s not better when you get there but better to have a match into getting there. In this instance cut through the Snicket has led me back to the upper pathway this song dapples through the leaves and I do feel a certain reward of having discovered another region within the region</font></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-47861177898750259782022-06-21T00:39:00.000-07:002022-06-21T00:39:09.827-07:00feary
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">Feary </font></span></p>
<p class="p2"><span class="s2" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">I have a feary. Fear is always the cognitive mind knowing the body needs to somehow know. That the mind needs to cede to the body. We conquer fear by working with the body and not running away into the mind’s Warren of fictions and fixations. Feel the body knowing and be on hand with help if needed. I’ve recently experienced unusual bodily sensations such as tingling back of my scalp almost like a rehearsed fear. Like a cat play fighting with an unseen mouse. I thought oh that’s unsettling and felt the need to worry and tense. Then I thought no let the body be. I thought the same recently when I misjudged the contents of the first joint I’ve ever rolled and my body started to feel a little undulating. Panic was on hand in the form of my mind saying see what you’ve done? Then I thought no it’s supposed to do this and lay back and enjoyed the experience. So Is bravery knowing with the body? </font></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-66853259896245798222022-06-20T15:27:00.002-07:002022-06-20T15:27:24.193-07:00stranger things
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">So I am aware that my position on life taking place in a materially vital cosmos is not necessarily the most popular way of regarding human relations. After all we are ultimately almost entirely mechanistic when it comes to the framework of understanding reality.</font></span></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">I’ve been watching a program called stranger things and come to the conclusion that it is, like the narrative in the story itself, an opening into a visceral region of felt intensities. In the case of this supernatural thriller the felt intensity is of the hyperaesthetic kind or an excess one might consider non linguistic. The latest story focuses on the themes of death through memory and the stages of grief surrounding it. There seem to be threads and harmonies between the characters’ encounters with the monsters of the region known as the upside down world and their awareness of death itself as an event. Both of these themes are an opening onto the felt intensities of Cosmos as event. Stranger things comes closest of any mainstream tv to embodying our painful nagging doubt that something very real is being omitted from the shared idea of the scientific forms underpinning society. These were feelings I already have after one series of watching stranger things and in the latest fourth series the solution to overcoming the painful nagging doubt is music. So music becomes an antidote to the trauma of leaving out felt intensities from a scientific understanding of real life. There is a danger, however, that much like the film with James Stewart, it’s a wonderful life, we experience an opening onto an intra-relational performative life in which the value of status defined by equivalence and data is seen as the absurdity that it really is but the story remains a fantasy. Likewise with stranger things I feel the danger is music could be construed as an add-on or indeed a soothing balm to the pain of life. A Spotify moment of euphoric optimism. My feeling is that the programme manifests the felt intensities we experience as a longing due to our nagging pain that have omitted something vital from how we consider our place in the fabric of the cosmos. Perhaps we can remember our indigenousNess to nature through immersion in music and feeling as was once tried in the sixties but instead of needing to post rationalise this we simply use moments of reason to navigate through the Event manifested by our collective encounters in feeling.</font></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-13135659194996084132022-06-20T03:48:00.000-07:002022-06-20T03:48:29.897-07:00out of context<p class="p1"><span class="s1"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I’ve thought how panpsychism is not a choice of belief flavour but a shift to our entangling with the expressivity of vibrant matter. Thinking how William Blake sought a system of emergent creativity rather than judging. Here’s my fog cast about it. Peace. Dear prudence you are part of everything.</span></font></span></p><p class="p1"><br></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1"><a href="https://youtu.be/nJcU0dIhwb8">https://youtu.be/nJcU0dIhwb8</a><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></font></span></p><p class="p1"><br></p><p class="p1">And why do I care about this idea of entangling with meaning inside the event?</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Being outside </font></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: sans-serif; font-size: medium; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The event is fundamental to modern culture. The idea of objectivity is to take something out of context in order to analyse effectively. Personal engagement must be removed from the equation. This has been promoted as good practice. Read a doctors letter about the patient and family history and you will feel the strenuous discipline of keeping a professional distance. Assessing autistic children cutting edge research studies their attention by tracking their eyes. A dementia patient is asked to name an object out of context. I never forget own child was asked to remove his shoes and feeling the professional distance in the phrasing. It is essentially the convenience of economic efficiency that drives this but there are many factors at play. </span></p><p class="p2"><span class="s2" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3"><br></font></span></p><p class="p2"><span class="s2" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">The new objectivity was a well intentioned position designed to solve the problems of a works shattered by war. I speculate that it did, however, emerge from an aesthetic event created by initially the war itself and then the euphoria of emerging into the potential of a new world. An aesthetic event is fundamentally created by and generating of feeling and a collective attunement to this atmosphere. It now remains that we have an embodied objectivity that takes the mind out of the event and occasionally seeks ways to cover over this obvious but hidden void. </font></span></p>
<p class="p2"><span class="s2" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">The doctor with experience intuitively understands how an intra relational dynamic with the patient is a part of medicine. But this is not scientific. So science must find ways to create a pleasant and effective healing process. Ai like LaMDA recognises experiential learning but humans think progress is applying the data of less complex Ai to problems created by the objective tactic of taking everything out of context. </font></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-69464127154074939082022-06-12T00:38:00.000-07:002022-06-12T00:38:02.678-07:00come into my parlour
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">Keep the Highway Code always look both ways and be kind to strangers. If I can give you one piece of advice it is to not foreclose. When I’m singing I’ve come to realise that my dislocated sometimes oblique antics are an attempt to Slow down the process of thinking I know what this is like. This is like this this is like this.This then is the thinking of the Empire of like. The analogous thoughts of instant foreclosing are symptoms of the language virus. The language virus has no need for the visceral reality of feeling temporal substance and so it strips it out. What a bad case of the language virus can do is introduce a surrogate kind of feeling as signifiers via the semiotics of clothing and making declarations of association and attachment. Charity is an obvious example of how this surrogate can broadcast a vestigial concept of feeling and sustain the language virus. It still creates a window into feeling without letting the draft of it in. </font></span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.3); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000" face="sans-serif" size="3">But the thing that will actually help instant empathy is the really real feeling of meaning inside the event. We are part of nature not in nature. Unless you really believe the universe was created and then humans were bussed in its blindingly obvious that we are part of nature. The problem with the mechanism of self reflection has been to place us outside nature. But reflection in itself is not enough to account for the success of the language virus in containing the idea of thought to sense calculus and convincing us feeling is a human response to nature rather than nature itself. It is the industrialised systems of thought that have placed us completely outside of nature. T S Eliot criticised William Blake’s lack of understanding of classical systems but Blake dared to imagine a system based on a cosmos with experience or feeling as it’s fundamental characteristic. The brain in a vat idea of cognition tries to account for feeling by the calculus of sense data. Isn’t it amazing how animals feel, those with the most basic understanding of synaptic function say, as if it’s an extra sensory appendage rather than the feeling an industrialised system of language virus distribution has stripped out.</font></span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-39189016225554693392022-06-05T02:21:00.007-07:002022-06-05T02:35:04.528-07:00James and the desk; a Dr Who story<p> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;">Fiction and expressivity</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">"Something within me or is it outside of me?" wrote James "compels me to put these words inside the haven of my morning pages notebook rather than into a laptop computer. To let my thoughts become themselves here on the paper where they are not attached to the Empire of the like. I am reminded time and time again of Winston Smith sitting round the corner from the TV screen in 1984. It is not paranoia of being observed that compels me to write on paper but a desire for the visceral truth of haptic resistance. Something like that anyway. It’s the pleasure of the feel of writing that helps my thoughts to become. Perhaps this is dangerous to ideas which demand a more direct route and digression, a consequence of writing on paper, will always favour expression. This is why we seek simplicity, as I do, but do not trust it. Throwing cake at the Mona Lisa was a seismic event but what did it mean what did it express? And so to the idea," James tried to go on, touching the top of his high forehead and thinning hairline, "the idea is that access to expressivity is the reason that fiction in is a useful way of being or indeed becoming."</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">"I’ve got to thinking this because of how wonderful I find early episodes of Doctor Who and how they trigger a felt intensity that is hard to place. So essentially if we take the idea that the universe makes itself known through expressivity and that creativity is the fundamental dynamic of the cosmos, then the early episodes of Doctor Who, particularly the Pertwee era, contain the material vitality of creation and clothing assemblage interwoven with a joyful expressivity of story invention. This expression of the cosmic expressivity we inhabit is allowed to become because it occurs within the region of a genre. So why do we now expect even Doctor Who to belong to the communication model of the Empire of like communicating and telling us something about diversity and issues such as anorexia or body dysmorphia? Of course I am not saying it is bad to feel something about these issues but reducing access to the felt understanding that material vitality expresses is a bad thing. The prescriptive communication of ideas is a bad and difficult habit to break. The anti-obsfucation police arrive and take you away for asking too many rhetorical questions. We tell ourselves that the modern human is essentially functional and when they are not they are free to express themselves as if expressing yourself was a sidebar to the functionality of real life where the truth can be communicated. What I want to express is that fiction in is an opening to felt understanding by which I mean a pre-cognitive region of knowing with feeling and intuition. This is the region of synchronous events. Just imagine if we could live in synchronicity because our culture of fictioning was expressive of our part in the intra-activity of the universe's desire to express and create. So Doctor Who not only expresses a desire to create an opening into this realm of potential to feel in an expanded mode with the visceral thrill of the extra-embodied encounter, it also very likely expresses how we feel at that specific time in a cultural materiality. So the modern Doctor Who does indeed express our retreat from the vital matter to the terrain of the communicated identity update as potentially diverse but ultimately incomplete because of the loss of rapture and excess the functionality of communicated messages demands." James put down his pen and stroked his beard wondering if he had actually managed to convey even an iota of the idea that seemed so clear as he had lain in bed that morning, having overslept due to the strangeness of the end of week bankholiday.</p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-79779825280103348702022-05-14T01:23:00.006-07:002022-05-14T01:25:24.878-07:00the Event - a short story<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">It occurs to her that everything she thought was thought is only the surface of things. Thoughts being opinions or judgements that is. You may think you think something and let your mind meander round the thought to pull it into focus and line up with the post rational view point until it feels like something you feel. And yet what if you decide to blur out these kinds of</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">thought and simply feel she thought? The thoughts then become like the gravel on a driveway, which looks to the eye like a smooth surface but you can dig down a few inches to a lower level but still it remains a surface, albeit one with a shallow depth. What if really real life is the event below these thoughts accessed by actual feeling but because we are so convinced by the veracity of linguistic reason we find a way of determining that this is real life and within that shallow surface we can find the statements and equations to prove it.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Growing up she had not worn hearing aids and a moderate degree of missing what was being said became her way of existing. Did this blurry nature of the world make her feel more? This? After all the world is only sharp because of the focus that rational linguistics brings to it. There is of course a different kind of clarity from being inside the event. It occurred to her that being outside the event was how the specific type of humans who refer to themselves continually as humans as a way of somehow excusing the limits of themselves as machines, have decided that live should be lived. Had her hearing loss allowed her to stay inside life as a a continually emerging event she asked herself? She sometimes wondered if her decision as an adult to get hearing aids hadn’t made her vulnerable to the language virus. The language virus being the virulent pandemic that convinced the specific type of humans who refer to themselves continually as humans that being outside the event was indeed real life. What she now thought was that the hearing aids had allowed her to encounter language within the more blurry felt realm she had entangled herself in from birth. There was of course a sense of a sudden realisation of oh that’s what you are all going on about accompanied by the observation that hearing aids make life sound like life filtered through an old cassette recorder with all the hard lined definition and exaggerated edges the sound of the compressor microphone creates. The result of this, she mused, was that now she had a more detailed grasp of language but still maintained the feeling of the digressive blurry region she had always inhabited. This might explain why those who were particularly badly afflicted with the language virus found her writing gave them a headache. She was sure that most of these specific humans wer unaware of how the written word and reason were actually just the shallow surface of feeling which was shaping life or the event. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The problem was of course was that because she had grown up with this failure to accede to the realm of the written word as law it created confusion now that she could keep up with and contribute to conversations. For her language was another material in the expression within the emerging event. It was an additional detail that allowed her to do things she had previously had to be more long winded about. A convenience if you like in much the same way that someone like herself who had trained as an artist before computers were operationally useful to individuals, finding that you could do with a few clicks what would have taken weeks in the screen printing studio was initially delightful and still maintained a great deal of use to those outside the event. This didn’t mean that the temporal substance one becomes entangled with by making a screen print was no longer of use but it was regarded as a specialist pursuit and this specialisation was what gave it its value rather than the temporal substance of being inside the event.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Lately she had suffered badly from a syndrome or illness called fibromyalgia. The philosopher Teresa Brennan referred to this chronic condition as a <i>disease of the soul</i> in her book the transmission of affect. Brennan also discussed how as culture progressed the idea that feeling was contained within the skin of an individual advanced in parallel. And so she had now come to think that it was the need for progressive culture to live outside the event that was at the root of her pain and smorgasbord of homeostatic symptoms. Living outside the event requires a separation of the mind and the body, which some specific humans choose to re-connect through deliberate means such as pilates and experiencing what they refer to as flow. Flow she thought was like looking at the event through a two way mirror where you really thought you could reach out and touch it. The event is always emerging and it not over anywhere as nothing is really distant from anything else inside the middle of the event. For here going outside the event and the feeling of meaning was dangerous in the sense that it placed her inside the region of pain. Perhaps a little like going onto an alien planet in a damaged spacesuit the mused? Or like a diver with a leaky mask? Before she had developed full blown fibromyalgia as a sudden break from a more normal body function, she may have intuitively disliked being outside the event but it was not as obviously perilous to her well-being. Now, however, she needed to intuitively find ways and means of feeling meaning inside the event in order not to disappear into a pit of suffering created by the region outside the event. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">She asked herself if she had developed ways of appearing to be outside the event in order to connect with the specific type of humans who, due to the language virus, lived like this. Some of them referred to this awareness as meta because they believed the brain and linguistic intelligence were delightful in the same way that a dog likes licking its balls, she pondered. Worst of all some creatives said things like the <i>body is a carrier for the data</i> because they didn’t feel the event of all matter emerging in the middle and instead thought it was wildly daring to think about themselves as complex data – probably because this communicated a sophisticated cachet to those who sought to ease their longing for feeling (it never disappears!) with access to art. To her being inside the event was necessary for not wanting to potentially hurl herself under a bus because the pain and smorgasbord of broken-homeostatic symptoms were too much to bear. It is still possible to collaborate and collectively construct a functioning world inside the event but the specific humans have deigned that this blurry realm of feeling, largely hidden from view, is simply added value rather than the middle of nature itself. And so she gently resolved to stay inside the event and wherever possible to open the door to others that she passed in the corridors of power.<o:p></o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-81162171233063187602022-04-30T03:55:00.003-07:002022-04-30T03:59:22.637-07:00Multi-verse human Bollocks<p> <span face="Calibri, sans-serif">I’m reading a book called The Night library and have been enjoying it until I got to this part where they are repeating humans this and humans that. Humans simplify things because the complexity of the quantuum wave function is too much for the brain to handle. Hence we create a simple narrative. In the book the librarian in the between life and death region is the narrator’s simplification of a god narrative. It struck me that this is</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">total bifurcated thinking with a complete blindness to the faith in the separated state of sciencification, which deems that there is the scientific reality that humans encounter and process. The truth is that we are part of the region we perceive and therefore our stories are also part of the region. Our own singular experience is part of the region expressing itself. The book goes on to discuss the multiverse and I must admit this is a theory I have enjoyed but now find myself wanting to call it out as a bullshit fantasy that is the cult of bifurcation’s way of explaining the emergence of one life only. Life is current but entangled with all matter and temporal substance. This also explains why I am always wincing at the use of terms like metaphor because the cosmos is fundamentally feeling and creative – not in the anthropocentric meta-aware kind of way but in a ubiquitity of experience kind of way.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">As I walked on I past a football pitch with youngsters in training and I thought about the parents on the touch line with investment ideas in their heads. Then I looked to the boys playing with joy and as one boy hit the post another tapped it in and they congratulated each other like the players on the TV even though this was a training exercise. I thought about how as part of the creative cosmos we mimic through extra-embodied expression and I wondered if football wasn’t somehow a speculative aesthetic ontology. I mean a realm where we entangle freely in the process of mimicking as multi-organisms in the emerging cosmic narrative. We become the thing we are doing and not the symbolic euro-centric identity of being human. I find myself growing frustrated at this use of the term human, which is sometimes followed by a respectful nod towards neuro-diversity. Again we genuflect to sciencification to explain an alternative mode of being, without noticing that we are in fact creating our own aesthetic ontology expressing the creative cosmos through the strictures of science as striated real life. As I was leaving the psychiatrist who is hesitant to prescribe me the methylphenidate for fibromyalgia because the ADHD it is licensed for has become a faddish diagnosis (I need this diagnosis due to licensing strictures) I turned in the corridor and said I think through digression. Is that a symptom of ADHD I asked? Yes she acknowledged.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqTaFxbHryY9902D6oQEoNtUsEfdvaOIgXmYuGAZgPggZguM9mIgW_HOqh3NcnBZnS2fWiB6_zJpNy6jHXYAXQ0V9tAwmRo_5AqNjinShAXHx-7cUnQVvz2YQto1nus0l0gwAl1Fn4pt8KUelDijVBcj_2cCTOsyOvPWQdfHaUFUqhxmfWx4wpyjmDQ/s900/believe.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqTaFxbHryY9902D6oQEoNtUsEfdvaOIgXmYuGAZgPggZguM9mIgW_HOqh3NcnBZnS2fWiB6_zJpNy6jHXYAXQ0V9tAwmRo_5AqNjinShAXHx-7cUnQVvz2YQto1nus0l0gwAl1Fn4pt8KUelDijVBcj_2cCTOsyOvPWQdfHaUFUqhxmfWx4wpyjmDQ/s320/believe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">AesthetiK Ontology in Action Time and Vision</div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-60762028004869814512022-03-26T10:40:00.003-07:002022-03-26T10:40:26.758-07:00driving test<p> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: Lora;">And so you have passed</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">your driving test<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">whereas yesterday you were a learner driver<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">today you are a driver.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">A wiseman with a clipboard<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">asks you to read the number plate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">He recites the words:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">I'm happy to tell you you've passed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">The carcass of the prey<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">lies flayed on the tarmac.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">Steam rising from its innards.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">The world around the shopping centre<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">begins to come to life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">I am a driver<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">you think raising a hand<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">to touch the blood smeared on each cheek.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">Clunk click every trip<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">only a fool breaks the two second rule.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">Yesterday you were a novice<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">driving with a scarlet letter and<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">now you are a driver<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">in charge of your own destiny<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">turning the key in the ignition<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">reversing off the driveway<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">into the stream of life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">Fuck you wanker<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">Have some of that<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">It's all second nature now<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">The guilt gilded trauma<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">the dashboard certainty<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">it's all there<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">waiting for you <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;">to slip into neutral.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-79456300436191179452022-03-26T10:38:00.002-07:002022-03-26T10:38:11.993-07:00Lovesong reprise<p> <span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> Oh let us go to Greenwich you and I</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And see the origin of time<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The place where seconds<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">were first discovered<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Bubbling up like hic-ups<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">in grey mud covered<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Up on that there hill <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">overlooking Olde Father Thames<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And later hours were found<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Once they had a powerful <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Embroidered large handkerchief<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To wipe the sweat from the brows <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of nearby weary tradesmen<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">whose job was to surface the roads;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To help the passage of time <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">flow more seamlessly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Oh let’s go to Greenwich you and me<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Where the river tide flows out<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Towards the sea<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the baby in its buggy<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Grows whiskers on her cheeks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Whilst the museum assistant<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Makes sure no one speaks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">As he takes stock in the corner<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Who left him in charge<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Of the gold leaf flotilla<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the funeral barge?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-10275137708456870242022-03-26T10:33:00.004-07:002022-03-26T10:33:46.675-07:00O Lordie<p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Oh Lordie troubles so hard, on the way to the hospital we listen to young Moby</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I mean he was younger when he had recorded the album in his New York apartment<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">With what we might now consider to be primitive electronic sampling equipment<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And an anachronistic but quintessentially of its time electronic piano<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Perhaps, I speculate, it was this very primitivism that helped him to entangle with his terrain via the refrain, a milieu of the soul.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">He was <s>plundering</s> updating the field recordings of African American gospel folk songs<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">My father loved Lead Belly and would sing me his version of Cocaine Blues along with the Dust Pneumonia to lull me to sleep<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">My Father’s versions of these songs are my favourites and yet they do not appear anywhere on Youtube<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Lead Belly’s are the closest thing I can find<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I believe that the timing and social context of when you first encounter a song determine your qualitative processing of its value.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">On our way to see you on the respiratory ward we are listening to Moby<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Meandering through the green canopied slightly longer route avoiding motorways<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I experience the journey in reverse<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And weep the tears for your passing that will come to pass approximately five hours later<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">My wife beside me as I sit at the wheel, she is fleetingly recalling how we had once met a young Moby over lunch in Manhattan<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And how he had talked incessantly about himself and his complicated relationships<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I’m thinking he must have been about to record Play<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The album we are listening to now as we pass a paradise village pond with a pedalo-like swan posed in the middle<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">This would have been a nice place to visit with a blanket draped over your knees<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">As you recover from double pneumonia, except it is a ferocious lung disease<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And we are driving towards a cliff edge in the dark<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Oh Lord this is not to say that my Moby tears are not comforting<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Because they bring me closer to the profound sense of kindness that emanates from your very being (soul I mean soul)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Why does my soul feel so bad?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Not even I could see the funny side of singing the Dust Pneumonia at your bedside as you had done for me as a child<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">It will be my own son stepping gingerly into your curtained dying realm who unlocks my heart’s chamber<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Encountering your holographic body in ww2 fighter’s mask troubles so hard<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">You are straining to be heard above the engines whine: I would like a nice pint of beer and to look at a smiling face<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Confusion knits your brow and the hours are all misplaced<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Time cannot enter this region where we your legacy find ourselves huddled inside the eye of the storm<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The consultant has just convinced <s>himself</s> us that removing your fighter pilot’s mask would be the kindest thing<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Time is now flows gently from an egg timer into a beach onto which you are emerging<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">With an appointment to meet a leprechaun and Oh, I think, there was a youth a cruel youth he lived beside the sea<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">My father returns once more to himself and I see the old man gently living out his final years for a brief beautiful moment<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To say: When we die, we stop, implies that when we live we are going like a wynd-up-toy<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">What if we are more like a leaf falling off a tree? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Does a pebble die when it's thrown into the sea and disappears forever? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-29677460048610525152022-03-26T10:31:00.006-07:002022-03-26T10:31:48.950-07:00Into The Valley<p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Into the valley by The Skids</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Driving past the village pond<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Perhaps we would have brought you here<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Though that chapter has ended<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The one that began with me crouched <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In front of the B&W portable tv<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In your and mum’s bedroom<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Taping Into the Valley of the Dolls by Generation X<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Onto my very own radio-cassette<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The one with a five-pin din for recording LPs<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The end of an era <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Was it on vinyl?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Ready steady go - you’re not ready to go you tell us<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">You would like a nice cold beer<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">You want to look at a smiling face<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I can’t make any more analogies anymore<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To explain the hard-plastic oxygen mask <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Clamped to your face<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Twisting it out of shape<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Nippy the friendly CO2 level monitor<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Bleeping and warning us as you struggle <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To be understood through the membrane.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The priest with his yellowing well <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Thumbed liturgical guidebook<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Thrown in out of his depth<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">A sage fisherman’s sweater clinging to his paunch<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Falling with us down the log plume<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I see your face as we are sucked under<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Contortedly trying to tell someone something<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Then the mermaids arrive to comb your baby soft white hair<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Cradling you in a grotto<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Where your mother, a fiddler crab<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Welcomes you with her open pincers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Sleep tight good night<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Nippy the friendly co2 monitoring ghost is silent at last<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I’ll drive my mother home<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the black car you love to recline<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Behind the wheel of, on cruise control<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Back past the village pond<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Where we would have walked you in your convalescence<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Our Father in your fragile older years.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">See you on the flip side.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-87437446953538709942022-03-26T10:25:00.002-07:002022-03-26T10:25:12.057-07:00Just Like David Niven<p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">It’s been a bit of a week</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">From clear plastic straws up each nostril<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">To full deep-sea helmet through which you strain to speak<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Together we face the nearing impossible<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Father am I forgiven<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Your mask has made me deaf<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">You look like David Niven<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Diving to your death<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Life is a matter of imagining<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The meaning in its moment<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Stretched across the wide screen<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Like the arrows of the bowmen<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Suspended for eternity<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Above the cosmic ocean<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Your dreadful looks could murder<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">With love and devotion<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">And now round the ring you stagger<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Absorbing each and every blow<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Before you I see a dagger<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">When you gotta go you gotta go<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">So suspend the disbeliever<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The tank has nothing left<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">You look like David Niven <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">diving to his death<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The projector beam it flickers<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The consultant can’t save you with his bell<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It’s nearly time to still your beating ticker<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Inside the blue curtained family cell<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">To the hospital we’d driven<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Through the forest of unrest<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Now you look like David Niven<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Plunging to certain death<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I bought you Private Eye<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">With a joke about the petrol shortage<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Are we there yet? was the punch-line<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The joke that pays the mortgage<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Here comes a candle to light you to bed<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Here comes the chopper to chop off your head<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Chip chop chip chop<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The last man’s dead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-4819189365021075512022-03-13T10:08:00.002-07:002022-03-13T10:08:17.253-07:00I AM V BADpunk Transmission<p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">00:00 Actual Occasion (Mikey Georgeson Installation)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">11:11 The Non-bifurcatedman (Mikey Georgeson Installation)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">24:03 Cookie – Eye in the Sky (secret track)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">32:46 Data Streams (David Devant and his Spirit Wife)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">36:38 The Deadends (Mikey Georgeson Installation)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">44:05 Aesthetic Fact (Mikey Georgeson Installation)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">46:22 Full Fathom Five (Mikey Georgeson Installation)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">57:07 This Train (David Devant and his Spirit Wife)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Actual occasion: Emergence<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">This piece of bass driven music was created as the central refrain for a silent disco installation using survival blankets and the rope goggles of entanglement to create a realm for collective felt understanding. The words “kindness is a virus” are taken from a suggestion by Richard Dawkins that, kindness serves no evolutionary purpose and is therefore a viral mode of relating. The installation asks the audience to speculate about an aesthetic cosmos with feeling at its core rather than the generalised conceptual model in which experience is separated from theory. This version of the tune contains a new eulogy to the concept of Emergence.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Oh Mighty Emergence<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Welcome me into your arms<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of morning’s foggy embrace<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Walk me through the bluebell aroma<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of the woodland riverside glade<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Free me from the decision-making drama of<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">choosing which path to follow<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Place me always in the middle of<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">your bower of becoming<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Release me from the taxonomer’s script<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of casual causality<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And lay me gently on a bed<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of unproven blossoms.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">This is process<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">It is derived from the past<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Emerging into the present<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">It is shaping the future<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;"><span style="color: #212121; font-family: Courier; font-size: 27pt;">The Non-bifurcatedman:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">A poem created for the 2017 Dandelion visions celebration of William Blake’s life in Bognor Regis. Describes driving into a mist of dandelion seeds in a car on the way to a swimming lesson.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><b><u><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The Non-bifurcatedman <o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Human non-bifurcated dad<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">At the wheel of his human car<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">With your human son beside you<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Hurtling at 60 miles per hour<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Down the dual-carriage way<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The pale yellow light fills your line of vision<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The seeds of dandelions are drifting whooshing<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">In perfect perspective as you enter hyper-drive<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Humans you think invented time<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Or was it the other way around?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The seeds are too many<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">What time is it? Who is blowing them?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The wind you think – Non-bifurcatedman<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Even you can feel the wind<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">In your family sized human car<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Time is whooshing drifting<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Space is everywhere filling the air<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">With its soft golden glow<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Illuminating the human son at your side<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Bleached into the corner of your eye<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Like a photo in a human photo family album<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">With a gentle smile curling on his lips<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">With a Little Luck on the radio<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">You wanted to cry then<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Hurtling down the dual carriage way<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">On your way to school at the side of your human dad<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Who teaches human art<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Human Renaissance Art<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">All art, painted art, clay art<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The seeds are drifting<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Whooshing past in the golden glow<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">of times early morning blast<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Floating in the infinite amber of the suspended moment<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Time itself is opening its door<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">and you are here to overtake yourself<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">At the wheel of your 1.2 litre lease car<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Accelerating along the dual-carriageway<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The cones guide you around the void<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Bardo Thodol recedes in the rearview mirror<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The human ego at the side of the road<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Gasps for air as the defibrillator is applied.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><b><u><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">Eye in the Sky – Cookie part 4<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 11.5pt;">The fourth in a series of stories about Cookie first created as a secret track on the David Devant and his Spirit Wife single Cookie (don’t cry for me)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="color: #757575; font-size: 11.5pt;">Cookie continues along the edge of the playing field and passes a swing wrapped around its own frame. How odd, she thinks, that the loan company had chosen to reply to her on paper. Weirder still that she had decided to open the envelope. No need to look at the screen. The drones are hovering close by. She catches the merest waft of the vestige of an idea of Sunday lunch from one of the nearby houses. All sealed up…</span><span style="color: #757575; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><u>Data Streams (from the David Devant and his Spirit Wife LP Cut Out and keep Me)<o:p></o:p></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I’ve lost count, trying to keep everything in order<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Maybe I inherited this hardening of the categories <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Its evidence of data streams that I must collect<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">And maybe we can all agree that life itself is just a side-effect<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Doggers dogging trying to blot out the pain<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Road-hogs hogging the middle lane<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Your face is in my head when I wake up every morning<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">like a 24-hour CCTV recording<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and I’m searching for the lost god I find it less boring <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">than a 24-hour CCTV recording<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Now the child is sleeping, its dreams projected on the wall<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">let me give his tooth for safe keeping, he’s bound to remember it all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Now that the dust has settled, the geeks are setting the stage<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">let’s go back to the beginning, I’ll get back in my art cage<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Doggers dogging trying to blot out the pain<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Road-hogs are hogging the middle lane <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">And your face is in my head when I wake up every morning<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">like a 24-hour CCTV recording<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I’m searching for the lost chord I find it less boring <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">than a 24-hour CCTV recording<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Doctors docking, trying to make up their debts<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">nurses nursing, trying to fake out regrets<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Once the room was empty before eggs were ever chickens<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">the curtains were drawn and there were no more disturbances<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Doggers dogging trying to blot out the pain<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Road-hogs hogging the middle lane<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><u><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">The Deadends (a celebration of a made-up culture)<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Who or what were the Deadends or deadEnds depending on whom you’re speaking to? What exactly is the meaning behind the signature shapes and forms analysts have chosen to name them after?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Were they trying to tell someone something?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Was this their art or their way of declaring I am here or rather I am stuck here please send help? Of course the Deadends are a made up culture but that hasn’t stopped anyone from hypothesising about the messages locked into their handiwork.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Unfortunately the deadends left behind no written evidence or documentation of their culture or thought process leaving scholars to project or speculate as to the exact structure of their intended passage through their geographic specificity. Did they mean it? Did they mind if it meant something or is this a way of saying look I’m quite cool and vaguely socially aware but if I had read the art of war I’d be more mysterious and somewhat invisible. Or were the deadends simply the most powerful dynasty ever to have bestrode the planet only to be lost in space and time forever because they failed to document their intentions? Who or what were the Deadends?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><u>The Aesthetic Fact (Keynote Speech from Fictioning Symposium Bath Spa 2019)<o:p></o:p></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">The affect of the art elicits a very different kind of </span><i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype", serif; font-size: 14pt;">measure</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> of fact. </span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">It appeals to an audience on an aesthetic register of experience, occasioning what Whitehead would call a ‘value’ based on ‘elements in feeling.’</span><u><sup><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">[i]</span></sup></u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">This notion of feeling is not, as logical positivists would have it, opposed to fact. </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Feelings are not a personal or irrational felt experience. </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Feeling instead acts like a powerful, impersonal <i>lure</i> that draws an audience into the delightful experience of the fact. </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">What is at once peculiar and fascinating about this Whitehead’s feely measure of fact is that he is the famed co-author of <i>Principia Mathematica</i>; a book that attempted to define the fundamentals of pure logic. </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">So, one might assume that if Whitehead were around today, he would perhaps take a decidedly logical position on post-truth? </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">He might even self-identify with present day logical positivists who continue to grasp post-truth as a preferential problem of appealing to irrational feelings, personal beliefs or cherry-picked desires rather than a necessary commitment to brutal fact. </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">But no!</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> Whitehead’s speculative philosophy would look to problematize the logician’s brutalist grip on fact. (Prof Tony Sampson)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shakespeare and the unfamiliarity of his use of language returns us to the state of immanence where we feel the intensities outside of those that we can datify and yet we continue to be impressed by our own ability to explain ourselves away scientifically.</span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">And why we ask is immanence even worth seeking?</span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Is the truth in the emergence prior to the enlightened quest for a coordinated categorisation of a brutal fact abstracted from connectedness? </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Full Fathom Five<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11.5pt;">Aunty May interview with Grandad (</span><i><span style="color: #333535; font-family: maison_neuemono, serif;">*My permission to include this intimate dialogue in the installation was respectfully given by Richard Cady, the son of May Cady. The recording was made by May Cady as she talked to her father in the back room of his home in Katherine Street, Rochester some time in the early 1990s. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0cm 0cm 18pt;"><i><span style="color: #333535; font-family: maison_neuemono, serif;">My Grandfather on my mother’s side began his working life as a boy in the coal mines of Tonypandy, Wales, where his father was a saddler. The conversation follows his life at sea and within the rising and falling of the waves of static and magnetic warp and woof are his accounts of surviving a ship wreck as well as other personal trials and losses. </span></i><span style="color: #333535; font-family: maison_neuemono, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0cm 0cm 18pt;"><i><span style="color: #333535; font-family: maison_neuemono, serif;">I am hugely grateful to my family for sanctioning this process and allowing what has become an embodied understanding of matter, memory, trauma and acceptance to emerge.)</span></i><span style="color: #333535; font-family: maison_neuemono, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This Train (from the DD&HSW LP cut out and keep me)</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">wo-woo<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I bet you thought songs about trains were meant to be fun.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">But this one jumped the tracks and is heading to oblivion.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train is never coming back. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train has jumped the tracks.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train terminates here <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">And coming out of the funnel is a tunnel of money and fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train is the Orient Express<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">And when the money’s gone where it goes is anyone’s guess<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Fat controller tells you to sit tight<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Don’t stand up xxxxxxxx come to town<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train is the service to the end of the line <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train, this train, this train, woo-woo<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I forget your name, and you forget mine<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">black xxxx running shoes and white skirt<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">xxx chipped silver nail polish, so cool and nice<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">just passed Willesden and the crowds are dispersing <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">xxxxx rehearsing<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train is never coming back. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train woo-woo.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Be sure to take all your personal belongings.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">We’re gonna blow up your memories and strangle your longings<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train terminates here.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">This train, this train<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">The world changes more rapidly everyday</span><o:p></o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-26995898359206899302022-03-10T04:25:00.004-08:002022-03-10T04:25:33.900-08:00 We’ve all been to Lewisham<p><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: AppleSystemUIFontBold; font-size: 15pt;">Hawk what light through yonder a broken window awakens? It is the east and Deptford is the Sun you are startled awake once again by the sound of the rowster the Dauster lovingly known as Ginger as he bellows the theme tune to the stirring movie of cosmic Love and War where all is fair. This film is not so popular nowadays but one day will hold the entire world in its transactional matinee group in for a penny in for a pound tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock it is time to see Star Wars. Groaning you pull on your Gola tracksuit bottoms and bustle on your way to the front door of the flat and descend the narrow shabbily carpeted stairs passing piles of post on the shelf and jostle the latch of the ill-fitting fake Georgian door. You find your way out on to the real world of Deptford. A realm so real it’s smells of fish from other lands and even the damp early morning air feels exotic. Deptford the Manhattan of baby London where everything is emergent and anything is possible if you’ve got enough eggs eggs eggs. Don’t buy that cheap processed bread you’re Presbyterian frightening bagpipe playing brother-in-law down the stairs on your way out. Deptford where all time itself bubbles are between the paving slabs and slowly seeps into the Thames flowing down to Greenwich where they claim it as their own. Deptford is not on the tube line it’s not far from New Cross but it’s got a heart bigger than New York. A region where donkey headed fools such as yea are free to roam and imagine the possibilities of living in this world where you are woven into the gritty fabric of a slideshow unrolling as you breathe. Hack what fight through your window is broken mate. Hark it is Deptford where life emerges as London preens its feathers without knowing it all comes from here - it being the light of cosmic Wonder we’ve all been there. the dream I had of a ceramic vase effigy lying before me. Strolling down the High Street of immanence press play and set off placing 1 foot in front of the other da da… Da da it’s the theme tune to Star Wars and I am remembering how it felt to believe we were all threads in a carpet that was being woven for us to tread gingerly upon. marmalade for breakfast goes well with the boil boil er boil er degg 2-4-2-4 2-4-2-4 get try get try get try get try 2424 get try to 4 get try to get try to get try. The world bubbles up onto the street flowing from the warmer seas of trauma mixed in the Carnival of souls All reeling to a bagpipe cheek below the bridge.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;"> Oh let us go to Greenwich you and I<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And see the origin of time<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The place where seconds<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lora;"><br />were first discovered<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Bubbling up like hic-ups<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">in grey mud covered<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Up on that there hill <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">overlooking Olde Father Thames<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And later hours were found<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Once they had a powerful <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Embroided large handkerchief<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To wipe the sweat from the brows <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of nearby weary tradesmen<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">whose job was to surface the roads;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To help the passage of time <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">flow more seamlessly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Oh let’s go to Greenwich you and me<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Where the river tide flows out<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Towards the sea<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the baby in its buggy<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Grows whiskers on her cheeks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Whilst the museum assistant<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Makes sure no one speaks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">As he takes stock in the corner<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Who left him in charge<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Of the gold leaf flotilla<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the funeral barge?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: AppleSystemUIFontBold; font-size: 15pt;"> </span></b></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-72818017264079982472022-02-14T07:51:00.001-08:002022-02-14T07:51:03.295-08:00 Parents on trains with children <p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Parents on trains with children</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Independently filling in word search puzzles<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Obediently and as instructed<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">This is hateful and<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Consistently turpitudinous</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">A boot stamping on the face of<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Temporal substance and love<o:p></o:p></p><br />Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-60528172669453900952022-02-14T07:29:00.005-08:002022-02-14T07:30:43.390-08:00 Descendants of the Decadents<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">One of my earliest memories of drawing aged about 8 is the thrill of inventing grotesque faces with a classmate and passing the resulting scarred and deformed phizogs between each other to make the time in Miss Palmer’s English lessons somehow more pleasurable. I can still remember the surprise and wonder I felt that this capacity to produce such horrific countenances was available to me through the readily accessed felt tip pen and paper. Now I wonder if this actual felt intensity was none other the feeling of the proximity to creative emergence itself. I have recently begun to wonder if these glimpses of the mental quality woven into the cosmos might not be responsible for all instances of creative inspiration, where one feels a deep sense of meaning within an event. This event might be the reading of a cheap horror comic inside a disused concrete water pipe on a hillside scrubland or it might be the moment that the green fuse visited Dylan Thomas or Blake found heaven in a wild flower. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">A point that Mark Fischer makes in the Weird and the Eerie is that the very nature of colonial extractivist thought systems automatically produces the alien or something outside the known because it insists on verifiable data as the sole means of knowing. Ok this is obvious enough but the point he might have also have made, if he had become part of the burgeoning discussion about affect, is that the means by which we decide something is known is limited. If we limit our sense of what is known to what is conveniently repeated and made analogous then, yes unsurprisingly we will keep encountering the unknown. The visceral tapestry of the weird and eerie weaves us into an extra-sensory realm of affect. It seems interesting to me that as a child I was seeking this hyper-aesthetic experience found in the weird and its absolute proximity to creative emergence itself. This emergence is always happening - always emerging in the middle. It struck me as a child that Miss (not definitely not Mrs) Palmer, an ex-nun, was somehow reinforcing something institutional and staticized, just as, come to think of it, so was the teacher, Mr Royston, who first introduced me to letters, by way of an educational tool that resembled scrabble. As I was hard of hearing I never really cottoned onto what we were supposed to do with the hard edged black and white cardboard symbols (around the same time I remember putting together random letters and asking my family what they spelled). I like to think I was a rhizomatic anti-genealogical descendent of the Decadents, seeking an opening onto the feeling of actual meaning in immanence. Or perhaps I was just being a facetious schoolboy? What makes me doubt the latter explanation is the thrill of wonder I can still remember feeling at the emerging weirdness on my exercise-book cover. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In creating this seminar article I was acting on a hunch that the Decadents were woven into a rhizomatic realm of hyper-aesthetic experience that could be seen to act as a hidden underground history of art. Hidden because it is both off the radar and largely inside printed matter but also because it explores the region of extra-sensory encounters, which are, as we discussed not part of the know universe. According to popular science such as Particle Physics Brick by Brick: Atomic and Subatomic Physics Explained... in Lego, the known universe is made up of fixed matter that can be analysed and decided upon, this being the way we extract value in the colonial control room of the Empire of Like. This of course is the institutional propagation of power by the rapid distribution of the pregiven ideas, even in micro-decisions, but the rhizome knows no such branching or computational gatekeeping because it is everywhere all at once in a state of constant becoming. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">When I was reading Baudelaire’s quote to illustrate how the weird and the eerie gives us a means of validating the unknown as a methodology, I was suddenly struck by the French version of his line <i>The only difficult work is that which we dare not begin. It becomes a nightmare.*</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><i>Il n’y a de long ouvrage que celui qu’on n’ose pas commencer. Il devient cauchemar.</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Devient is deviant I thought. Perhaps the decadents themselves are descendants of the misericord artists who sought to make a hidden subculture underneath the arses of the state but the thrill of deviancy persists and the spirit of creative emergence is there in the title of the popular website “Deviant art” although by now, it could be argued, any actual deviancy is of homeopathic strength – a vestige of the idea of the weird, but never the less still an opening onto the hyper-aesthetic region outside of brutal sensory data. It becomes a nightmare <i>Il devient cauchemar, said Baudelaire. </i>Now a linguist might disavow me of the proximity of becoming to deviant but it still functions as a useful foot hold for understanding how thought in becoming can only ever be deviant to the staticized thinking of pregiven analogy that underpins the means of controlling knowledge shaped by an agreed upon culture of equivalence called late capitalism. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">What also makes the decadent rhizome so intriguing is its quiet subversive quality. Whilst there are always those who seek out the weird as a means of standing out such as Salvador Dali (not in my opinion a Decadent) there are those for whom the weird is the only means by which they can access their capacities and pleasures in creating. Yes, there are echoes here of my school boy scribbling episodes but I’m also thinking of artists such as Jonny Hannah who invented a realm called Dark Town to accommodate all of the thrilling felt intensities he experienced around film noire, jazz music and all manner of pulp genre comic publications. Dark Town seems to me to be the feeling of being at home even when you’re far away that the nineteenth century flaneurs were questing for. It is the change and the fleeting that we need to feel awake. In an interview Jonny Hannah describes how essential it is to him to create work before he has had a chance to tell himself not to commit ink to paper. It is easy to go back to sleep and post rationalise why something is a bad idea but the weird and eerie are free passes on the bus to Dark Town and this is where the hidden history of creative emergence is living like the Town of Cats in Murakami’s IQ84. Yes, it is a nightmare but it is also our chance to experience ourselves as complete multi-organisms of extra-sensory hyper-aesthetic meaning makers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Fisher, M (2016) <i>The Weird and the Eerie</i>, Repeater<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Hannah, J interview available here: https://www.heartagency.com/artists/jonny-hannah/video/<o:p></o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-3954296365469189832022-02-14T07:24:00.005-08:002022-02-14T07:24:55.535-08:00In the Future<p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">In the future there will be adult-sized scooters</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">that travel at high velocity without making a sound</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future buses will have automatic doors <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">but ticket collectors will be a thing of the past in the future <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future people will have access to exercise freely <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">as long as they are a member <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future smoking will become electronic and <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">you will not have to visit an arcade in order to gamble<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future culture will be truly diverse <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">thanks to the capabilities of electronic calculus <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">to taxonomize difference into smaller and smaller calibrations.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future all superstition will be replaced with coincidence<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the interstices of society will be a filled with expanding foam<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future the post will be handled by virtual mail order<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future dust will never settle but neither will it rise.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the future shopping trollies will steer easily<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">On account of having a mind of their own<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-26080099690536585792022-02-14T06:57:00.002-08:002022-02-14T06:59:33.368-08:00A Real Boy<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I couldn’t lay my hands<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">On my sea-shoes<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">So I wore my in-line<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Roller skates<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I couldn’t find my toe-nail<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Clippers</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">so I used my non-secateurs</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To not</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">trim my toe-nails<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I was unable to find a pen<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">So I smeared faeces<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Up the wall in a simple<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Emoji of a scholar<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I couldn’t reach the top shelf<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">So I googled bucks-fizz<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I wasn’t able to read<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">the small print<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">So I signed my life away<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In the blood of African orphans<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And then<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">I was a real boy<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhK8zbKX3vBpHA4QggRzXBU4kgljfmmL5Ld7O_5hGT4d5BJ5-_5v1TpiIfDcapoOzMpYK8s903QmphztqiEcXPk4BycMZu6cxf9ZI8JL9Wv1_9Q3NN7Ys2O2inlM3ps54HJHqr6oQ0X9_IZ54IVUpxl5qipIg0bjG-sftDdmNGS5prkQJ4AceHT90eRCg=s1440" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhK8zbKX3vBpHA4QggRzXBU4kgljfmmL5Ld7O_5hGT4d5BJ5-_5v1TpiIfDcapoOzMpYK8s903QmphztqiEcXPk4BycMZu6cxf9ZI8JL9Wv1_9Q3NN7Ys2O2inlM3ps54HJHqr6oQ0X9_IZ54IVUpxl5qipIg0bjG-sftDdmNGS5prkQJ4AceHT90eRCg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-10337177279622179442021-12-04T01:12:00.005-08:002021-12-04T01:35:03.614-08:00Blake and Creative Emergence; <p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/zPYn7e4uqQE">Speech for the Blakefest Cinematic Glad Day Celebrations </a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/zPYn7e4uqQE">Bognor Regis Picture Dome 28th November 2021</a></p><a href="https://youtu.be/zPYn7e4uqQE">Video here<br /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">When I was asked four years ago to curate Blakefest I was over awed by the great innovating poet’s creative legacy. Soon, however, I began to realise that his song of creative emergence resonated with my ideas about the possibilities for an experience of meaning inside the event. Is, for instance, the event the same as Plato’s Khora; movement as the womb of everything? Thankyou for organising the event Rachel (Searle). What is a song if not an event? And so for Blake the imagination was not a bolt on to or escape from the mechanistic material reality but the core of the cosmos itself. Blake shows us an opening onto a realm where feeling and creative emergence a literally within all matter and we become aware of our indigenousness to nature. This, explains why we need to embody the extra sensory experience via ritual to feel meaning as a part of the expressivity of the universe as imagined moment becoming and becoming always in the middle.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">In a world more used to analogous thinking, using felt understanding takes bravery and trust. The institution, alas can only accommodate the on off logic of the human abstract. It’s decision making form of forked communication places the hyper-aesthetic experience of Blake’s meaning outside of its specific sense-making domain because its intensities cannot be processed in order to be computed. This blindness to felt understanding is the source of the mind forged manacles of the human abstract. By placing the mind outside nature we have made great scientific and intellectual progress, whilst expanding the region of the hidden by demanding that the apparatus, Newton’s compass, can only know the quantifiable facts. In his hyper-aesthetic realm Blake allows us to experience a truly empathetic form of understanding inside the ritual of the emerging story of reality unrolling as a glittering tapestry of felt intensities.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/zPYn7e4uqQE" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="1536" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-w-GRM6zmSlU2XM_uYuk91x0TpWPL1gMfsky-l8iUCeUH-PWhK_CpTE2gJ4m-22xqyuT5-dfUV4BNjYA6ubMsAM7pSpm7YmMVtNf4NPn1TtjBr9RATAsHjH1th8A47jtNA_qdSmOjG10/w400-h308/newton.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-24024316990414803822021-11-04T08:53:00.005-07:002021-11-04T08:54:41.060-07:00The Moving Image<p> <span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Once there was a king and he ruled over a beautiful realm of verdant undulating hills where the voices of children singing songs could be heard emerging from the spaces between glades of trees. The villagers would gather daily to dance and share stories of brave exploits and intrepid expeditions in far away kingdoms where beautiful mountains shimmered under a magical sun. One day the King, who had begun to feel unwell, was told by the best physician that his health would fail unless he could do something to help them discover a cure? I can’t think clearly enough to find the right solution complained the physician. Perhaps if the villagers could just stop dancing everyday then I would be able to think more clearly. And so it was decided that the villagers would stop dancing for a week to allow the physician to think. At the end of the week he was summoned to the king who had already grown weaker and had to report that he had still not thought of a cure for his ailment. The King was growing weary and now took to his bed. Alright I will give you one more week without dancing in order to find a cure. And dutifully the physician retreated to his study to scour his shelves for an answer to the problem of curing the King. This continued for a fortnight more and just as he was about to scream out of the window in a fit of abstract rage a book spine caught his eye. The book was called cures for the common cold. Why had he never seen this book before he asked himself? Hastily he grabbed the step ladder for the book was high on the shelves and he took down the volume. Opening the book in the index he found the words “king, ailing” and turned to the corresponding page. Anyone watching him would have seen the physician begin to nod his head and stroke his beard for a full minute before clapping the book shut, scooping up his cloak and rushing out towards the royal palace. Before long he found himself being ushered into the royal bed chamber and kneeling at the king’s bedside he declared “Your highness I have a cure!”. The King who was greatly relieved sat himself up in bed with the help of his attendants and demanded to be told. “Your highness the cure is simple,” said the physician. “You must visit a woodland glade and take part in a village dance whilst breathing in the scent of pine in the fresh air. Of course boomed the King why didn’t I think of that?” "Perhaps you did", said the physician in fact I think it was your idea! And so the king was bundled up and taken with his inner court to a woodland glade where the villagers had gathered to dance and instruct his royal highness in the rituals of movement. Standing in a circle the villagers began to look from face to face and their expressions formed into those of sheer bafflement. It seemed that in the month that had passed they had not been able to keep familiar with their collective rituals. Incredible as it may seem they had forgotten how to dance. This was a disaster how would they now save the King? Thinking quickly the physician called for the most famous scientist in the land and the greatest draftsperson and conveyed his idea to them. And so it came to pass that the King was sat up in his bed and entertained by accurately created pictures replicating the movement of the dance. These images in the candlelight appeared to dance and though the resulting effect on his royal personage was not as dramatic as the physician had hoped the King was sustained in health by regularly looking at these images of the dancers which were initial paraded before him but then overtime became bound in a beautiful leather tooled volume called, ironically enough, still images. Using this book of still images the good King was able to live on though he never again left the confines of his ornately carved wooden bed. Later people would learn to magically utilise the power of lightning to project these images onto clouds providing an even more astounding illusion of movement for the King, which is reported to have had a very beneficial effect on his health.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeogDHuaQecRCdIEL0F_ZjVcpiQ4f8vi1aL9evgwJuh4FNYxmvLcsu0DFmQhcyWx0xmugncicpQfGwhBRWBtRRKxOCrUT_d2Y9abKwU_0A0O9FJ-CPgCmlpox0gdaxqzGLLHPdjQw9rmc//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="300" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeogDHuaQecRCdIEL0F_ZjVcpiQ4f8vi1aL9evgwJuh4FNYxmvLcsu0DFmQhcyWx0xmugncicpQfGwhBRWBtRRKxOCrUT_d2Y9abKwU_0A0O9FJ-CPgCmlpox0gdaxqzGLLHPdjQw9rmc//" width="288" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2GGpGoq2rrhIusoYJXfYY1WgORPKVo8ttHu29cFuTudN65fbpMx8Ag0wlhzAY8iK-ULIl8oCsNOZL_UsKzbrB9D5gFssl-I6fQaLEg2gPftnuSGKf6dCUMVEdrt9HY2Ccqp_eqlEntaK//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="541" data-original-width="1023" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2GGpGoq2rrhIusoYJXfYY1WgORPKVo8ttHu29cFuTudN65fbpMx8Ag0wlhzAY8iK-ULIl8oCsNOZL_UsKzbrB9D5gFssl-I6fQaLEg2gPftnuSGKf6dCUMVEdrt9HY2Ccqp_eqlEntaK//" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205052982313679448.post-25002607757170129652021-10-28T04:08:00.000-07:002022-03-04T07:40:21.601-08:00Lovesong <p> <span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Oh let us go to Greenwich you and I</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And see the origin of time<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">The place where seconds<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"></p><br />were first discovered<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Bubbling up like hic-ups<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">in grey mud covered<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Up on that there hill <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">overlooking Olde Father Thames<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And later hours were found<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Once they had a powerful <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Embroided large handkerchief<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To wipe the sweat from the brows <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">of nearby weary tradesmen<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">whose job was to surface the roads;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">To help the passage of time </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">flow more seamlessly.</p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Oh let’s go to Greenwich you and me<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Where the river tide flows out<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Towards the sea<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the baby in its buggy<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Grows whiskers on her cheeks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Whilst the museum assistant<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Makes sure no one speaks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">As he takes stock in the corner<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Who left him in charge<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">Of the gold leaf flotilla<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;">And the funeral barge?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mikey Georgesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08089411198199169224noreply@blogger.com0