What Society

graffiti in Woodstock, Cape Town by faith47

What Society Do We Live In

When:

-it’s not good to be too happy, too high

-people are threatened by any talk of spirituality

-people laugh at those who are nature conscious, when people choose not to think too much about where their meat comes from or where their waste goes

-a person is taught to feel voiceless, intimidated and inferior because of their sex or the colour of their skin

-war, violence, rape and abuse are the most common forms of expression

-people in positions of ‘power’ would more often than not choose a quick fortune or profit over the preservation of an environment, ecosystem or animal species

-one man’s religion is superior to another’s just because his own holy book tells him so

-the human ego is elevated to such proportions that it drowns out the light from all other living beings

-we forget our place on this planet as one of those creatures

Banksy

WHY SHOULD I WORK for this kind of society?

WHY SHOULD I NOT WORK for a society of my own imagining?

artist unknown

VS.

vinyl on mirror in public toilet, Vincent Mall, East London. Let's see how long it stays up there...

LET THE BLOOD POUR FORTH

LET THE WORDS ARRANGE THEMSELVES

SHIMMER CONVALESCENT PSYCHOPHANT

OUROBORI SHAMELESS PEARS FOOT LOOSE RECHARGE

MESS NOTHING ALEX REDHEAD

LAST AND SILENT BREAKAWAY

SEPARATE MOON TIDE TO BE UNEXPLORED ADVENTURES

SAILOR’S DREAM OF HOME FARAWAY

WOE BE GONE OUTDATED PHILOSOPHY

BRINGING BACK FEELING CIRCULATION

BREATHING ARM SPACE

AMNESS SELFISH SORT RITE

MOON TIDE BREAKAWAY

NEED

SHAMEFACE STONEBONES EVEN RIDGE

SOMEWHILE CONFUSION LET

RECONNECT RESELECT RECONFIGURE MIND ERECT

SIMPLE PICTURE IN A LINE

MULTIPLY SYMMETRY OF STRUCTURE ENDOCRINE

UTERINE

FORCE SUBJECT SILHOUETTE

FLYING BOOMERANG CLEAN SOBER RELAXED

SHAKING HOLD MY ZONE KNOWING INSPIRED OK

TOP TO TOE BOTTOMS UP

FIND NEXT PROJECT

ALIGN APPARENT PARALLELS

SOUL BODY HEARTMIND

INTUIT NECESSARIES USEFULNESSES

HIEROGLYPHS SALTY RHYMES I KNOW YOU

DEEP INSIDE HELP THE CHILDREN PLAY

ALLOW MISTAKES AND LEARN THIS MASSIVE GIFT

ENERGY DIVINE BLEND MELD EARTH AND SKY

AND IN BETWEENS BLACK DARK VOID MATTER

IS WET SOIL SEED AND GENERATE

STAR BUDS HOLD IT

HOLD IT BE

MY THANKS TO THEE

Shadow Wolves

Forest 2 by Aron Wiesenfeld.  All art in this post by Aron Wiesenfeld

Shadow wolves

Good intentions

Hopelessly fucking bad timing

Silly

Peek out of tent

Freak people out

Bury shit

Maintain

Minerals

Attain?

0 0 0

7

A point

Some point

Never

Numb

Fun

Ass-kicking

Raging against nothing

Authentic

Perpetual

Again and

A love letter

Tell her

Me too

Remember

Again

Don’t be a prick

Hello fools

Tragically lucky

Get their attention

Keep my peace

Be disturbed

Come out

Animals

Us

Reflect

Rest

Sleeping lady

Minute steaks

Power struggle

Misunderstanding

Retching

Cursing

Weeping gently alone

Food smells

Choosing each

Wanting wanting

Wanting

Where is another

Flying or floating

Wondering

Intake of superknowledge

Pleasantly surprised

Behind 

Girl With Bike

 

The Wedding Party

 

Raincoat

Victor

Sweet 'n Sour Minneolas

Need to sleep need to stay awake

Need sunlight, need need warmth

Need to see my veins

Need to eat need to smoke

Need to breathe, need to be here

Need to get high need to leave here

Need to dance, need to sit

Need to think, need to laugh

Need to walk, need to look

Need to stop, need to go back

Need a notebook now.

Need what I need when I need it

Here now

Need to smoke

I don’t need much.

paint spill - Sal's studio, Chintsa West

watch the paint seep between the floorboards & swirl down into the holes

oh happy accident!

colour creatures...

...gently floating before the Giant Mop-Up

Reverse Chug Choke 1

see Street Art Utopia

Should leaves trigger earth

Turn us all into leather

Wind and metal collisions,

Send pleas through forehead

Up and down – f*ck!

It Must Be Done

Snow White by Mark Ryden

Flip a new one over,

Call it –

Revel in its nakedness

Staring back at me spread-legged,

In-spirit to dwell a while

On something good,

Worth keeping.

But suddenly out with all the rest

And, leaving a husk to try make sense of

Distant whispers fading,

Matter in a state of flux.

You pompous pricks,

I’m here!

Or, so says The Stranger.

The Apology by Mark Ryden

I can’t be anyone else,

Only this madness

Come in tall and pretty

Girl body

Sophia's Bubbles by Mark Ryden

And, It Just - (Reprogramming in Progress)

Well, I told you so, chevron moon,

Inescapable attempts at utterances

Becoming desperate must

Draw the ink, oh happen!

My voice my body sorting whiles

A mess of babble

A stress of chaos

I’m not just

Awakening every day into an everyday

Like an ant in a next

Of orderly orders

Fucking fucked

Gia and James

Jim and Jack

Ganja and Angelo

Where do I find my final

S.L.E.E.P.

So afraid and so lazy

 

Try to get high

And then try to move

Choosing to time travel

The channels of kindheartmind

Come on dimensions!

Noticing reckoning

Devoid of surface

The yellow invades my chin

And distractions reach out like zombies

To latch my fingers around

Reasons to leave and go somewhere

Else

But

It’s not where

It’s when.

 

I want to look in me

Hear me breathe

Take in and regive

Regain

Retain water nourish

New nerve endings nurtured from

Congenital neuroses ripped out,

Crushing order destroyer genes

Obliterating this orchestra of scenes:

Distil them, still them

Roll it all up in a ball

Kiss it thank you and goodbye

And launch it.

Plah.  Rhubarb.

The clink of cutlery from across the street.

 

Predictable highway accidents unravel

Oh, what I did with my eyes!

Unable to speak or draw

So incapable

Waste waste coming out my ears

I can’t leave them alone please

Silence this noise

 

No

Wait,

Don’t’ go

(Something vicious approached

And I change the verse to read:)

Old habits outdated

Thought food

I’m dawning

No fawning

Please

I’m growing down from dissention

Yeah, it’s violent.

GRATEFUL KIND TRUE

see Street Art Utopia

Only when we great pour our tears in water give thanks

touch soil bless all make merry each moment entertained in thought

image blow horns listen to the rain watch the clouds all day

sing from within headphones bend forward and concentrate and

stand back to observe open eyes open freedom hands let fly stop

breathe take time listen now feel words shift and lips form

utterances dreams ideas stories

To myself I pledge listening and learning discerning recognition

of burning quiet time stillness and stretching patience and

understanding good posture and breathing play silly niss to

share and fear nothing freedom to give expression through image

and spoken word Love acceptance acceptance and

acknowledgement of Love given me more patience

trust truth

see Nuclear Winter

Brixton Tower

photo: Gillian Wearing

What magical everies survive

This mad glitch, a house of

Krazies: losing your last cigarette

And being precious,

Finding loopholes in the fabric of space time

Where, is my pause when, is my

Cause

So many looks so silent so withdrawn.

If this is my reflection

Without sympathetic applause,

Must mean surety (don get none).

Big words spelled for me

Deep down in the blood of the sticky streets.

Well, welcome home to this!

So heavy so caught in handwriting writmess

I’ll find something paper tape pens

Userfriendlylibrary paint board nails

1-way mirrors.  Yeah, yeah I know it’s

Weird for me to be here too...

Just go with it.

Start thinking ahead now,

It’s that fresh smell of coffee.

see Nuclear Winter

A Golden Christ, sharp,

Hold me in here;

I plant new life for the Spring to move along

Its mellow way.

Cruising the suburbs in search of my Tower

Motor clashes suddenly loud in the day,

Crashing under the wooden floors

And echoing my loneliness in the night.

To get up and answer when I hear a good call,

This be precious alone time in glorious lasting

Coloured sunlight,

Just put some music on any old music will do -

Wonders

Make the veil of life transparent to see through

To the path,

That mesh of parallel universe existence in vacuum

I could fall through at any time

Delicate, so delicate

(but elastic) these frames,

This interlocking interconnected net of light

A trampoline

A space warp

And it hurts so bad

CLANK

see Self Made by Gillian Wearing

 

(untitled) Saturday thoughts

I find Time:
My only regret is that I have not regretted enough,
Dreamt too much
And not moved to move myself.


But now that I have met Time
There can be no late.
I am not afraid.


Eyes see
And others see.
We see each other,
Some kind of High!


Eyes rise to meet the Sun rise


Spirit
Energy
Life
Earth
Wind
Fire
Water
Friends
Family
God/Spirit
Patience
Honesty
Concern for others and the earth
Self discipline
Searching, questioning
Thinking
And knowing when to quit
Silence, Sleep, Sunlight, Moonlight
And all that Eyes in my humanness have forgotten
Memory.  Dreams.
Words.

Reconfiguration
Transfiguration
Inferred autocratic rebellion
In need of shared reference


Left behind, caught a ride:
Alienation - 
Mutable amicable mutation


What she sees is what she gets,
Swimming under purple stars reflected
On the cold, cold backs of her retinas.


Watered paper, crinkly and worn,
Torn and folded asleep,
Just like this.
Floating
Let me dream of Dolmens and Great Stones,
Menhirs of future Diamonds of us.

Sleep, Yesterday,
For Never Too Late
Is getting desperate

All photos by NCcrew, Blyde River Canyon roadtrip, Limpopo/Mpumalanga Province, South Africa

Unombono

A scratch-graffiti I did earlier this year on the wall down by the Cintsa East shops.  'Unombono' is isiXhosa for 'To have a vision'.  Below are two details from the design; the first one is a direct copy of the Enviropaedia logo.  A pack of 3 steel wool, free air to breathe and the sun on my back.

Fizzikall

see Street Art Utopia

In each waking moment

A decision made;

Does Man defy Death?

A questioning

Or

A chosen ignorance of situation

Anything to make life easier

Anything just to make that moment

Pass.

What if each moment were a gift

And we could mourn each one’s passing with

A celebration of the next

And Man could stand beside and

Laugh with Death

That Mystical Mantra

see Street Art Utopia

There once was a time I’d stay up all night

Take the drugs and drink the wine

Stay awake for the conversation

Ready for the fright of the dawn

My dry appeals for more, 
My juvenile elation

At all that room for second sight

And a Come sit with me, tell me what you see

Realisation led me closer to the door

That mystical mantra I seek, try as I might

Always evades me when I try to be Right

Each day wipes clear from memory

The day before