Dreams

I dream.  I might dream more than average.  Sometimes my dreams are more real than reality.  Sometimes they are lucid and telling.  Sometimes they are people calling out to me, telling me their story.  Sometimes it feels like God is trying to tell me something.

My dreams are numerous and varied.  I used to know people that claimed they didn’t have dreams.  I wonder about them.  I wonder if they are lying.  I can’t think of a mind without dreams.  How does that mind heal itself?  Do they have imaginations?  Where is their subconscious?  I also pity them.

For years these dreams were nightmares.  They were intense and powerful.  Maybe it was a child with an overactive imagination?  Maybe it was something else reaching out to an open and fresh mind?  Maybe it was whatever it is now, but uncontrolled, unharnessed?  I’m leaving more questions than answers here.

I have this theory that our own conscious is linked to the various versions of ourselves that splinter off through time and dimensions.  The closer the timeline is to yours, the easier it is to tap into it.  This “Tapping In” can be done through dreams.  I myself would have dreams of a place that was like my hometown, but was heavily centered around this pier.  The variation of friends were similar to my own, but with a few people that were not known to me. This was a recurring dream.

Other times I would have dreams where I would fall back into myself.  This is the dream in a dream scenario.  Have you ever had a dream that you got up, got ready for work, and were in the car driving- only to wake up finding yourself still in bed?  This is another example of an alternate reality that is closer to your Self.  That version of yourself has gotten up and is already set to go to work.  You “tapped into” your similar being to essentially watch, or sometimes “Command the Ship”, doing the actions of the other version of yourself.

I theorize that “Commanding the Ship” happens to us more often then we think.  It happens during moments of the mundane, the sublime, of fight or flight, and other moments where the subconscious and conscious are working at the same time.  The last example was waking up and getting ready for work.  Many of us do these actions while half-asleep, while the mind is not fully processing.  I think this allows another sleeping version of yourself to “tap in” and ride along.  Dreams about sex can also be connected.  Sex is another example of the mind letting go and allowing the subconscious to come in.  That moment that seems strange is happening in alternative universe, and it is “you”, but not You doing it.

Another example of this is concentration: actions that shut off the conscious and allow the subconscious to work.  Dreams of fighting, of running, of playing an instrument are all actually happening somewhere in the multiverse, and your dreaming Self is “tapping in” as a passenger.

An active dreamer also must understand “Falling In.”  “Falling In” is the action of coming back to you original self from whatever timeline or dimension you “tapped” into.  I once had a dream(s) where I fought this invisible force.  (These forces are a topic for another time…) In this dream, I was pushed out and woke up in my bed.  I told my spouse about the dream, and they were listening in the half-woken fashion people do.  As I told them, I woke up finding that that was also a dream.  Shocked that this dream in a dream happened, only to find that they were not there, leading to me waking up again- this time for real.

These dreams in a dream in a dream scenarios I call “Falling In.”  I was coming back to myself .  The main dream, which was the farthest from my reality, forced me to go through variations of myself to get back to me.  In this theory, the two other versions of myself had the main dream. Each version experienced the main dream, but as “I” was being pushed out, the other versions of myself were being dropped off into their own realities.

This leads me to believe the power Self Collective Dream Consciousness.  Imagine the realities that are so abstract and strange that have no viable connection to your own.  They exist, but it is harder to get to them, to perceive them.  If multiple versions of yourself have the same dream, this powers the conscious to further its reach, allowing the mind to go beyond the closest parameters of your reality; you can break into the abstract, the 4th, 5th, 6th dimension and so on.   “This Ship” is super charged by your multiple-selves.

The 3 Obsessions.

My first painting that lead down this path came out of writing .  I was looking back at old things I wrote, and everything was around Art, Sex, and Death.  So I decided to personify these three.  They became the The Three Obsessions.  Much like sirens, when they are around they pull me in.  They are the things that intrigue me.  Actions , excitement, and excess.  I decided to go further into their nature and their mythology.   The first installment begin with these three.

ARTArt: Art The Free Wanderer. Art is it the younger sister of Death, cousin of Dream, best friend and dance partner of Sound. She is a free wander of the world. She presides over inspiration, color, shape, and form. She has the ability to change form and color. Art has the ability to see into the soul and to express it in its fullest form. She has the ability to create and destroy.
Her Eyes have the ability to change state to see this soul and truth in everything. She has the ability to change perception. She is the allusive love and obsession of the Arbitor. In a moment of jealousy, her Sister Death steals the Heart of the Arbitor and hides it away.

SEX

Sex: Sex The Fox Witch. She has the power to take over the mind and make her will come to reality. She is an aristocrat, a goddess of desire. She can transform into a fox. She has the ability to bit and run. She lost her right eye in a knife fight with Love. She both admires and despises Love. When she lost her eye in the battle against Love, Death, her best friend, replaced it, and connected it to one of her crows, Atticus. She has the ability to see into death. This brief look into the soul is only achieved through climax.

 

DEATHDeath: Death The Queen Beyond the Void. She is the older sister of Art, best friend of Sex, surrogate mother of Freedom, former lover of Knowledge, and Challenger of Life. She works behind the scenes of all actions. She tries her best to find ways to bring her influence on all forms. She is beautiful and frighteningly cunning… She steals the Heart of the Arbitor and keeps it as a trophy. She was defeated by Love in a battle for Knowledge. She mutually loathes Love with her friend Sex.  She was the one that found a way to curse Knowledge. This in turn forces Love and Knowledge apart. She in turn raises there son, the lone soldier Freedom. She can’t look into the souls of people she hold a second set of eyes. This set can pierce through any form.

Next set The Cursed : Knowledge, Space, and Time.

The last few months. (In search of meanings)

The last few months I’ve been on a search for that driving force that pushed me for many years.  The year has been busy with work, painting, music, and digging into the dark parts that I tried to ignore for the longest.  It’s a good feeling to rediscover things about yourself.   I recently made a new site that has a combination of the many things I’ve been working on.   The site is still coming along… I suggestion checking it out . www.bangzoompop.com

I’ve got  a ton of my old illustrations.  I’m trying to collect my ne pieces to be scanned.  I’ve also been offered a gig drawing a few comic pages again.  Which is a bonus.  The paintings are coming along.  I’ve been posting progress via Instagram.  A lot of the new work is post there as well.  http://instagram.com/revodubois  Going to up date the site with this once I get a better scanner.

Been thinking about living and following your dreams.  I had a good talk with an artist friend of mine, Akira Beard.  His thoughts about life and art are pretty on par with how I feel about creating and where it comes from. We conversed about art and the spirit.  The way that art can pull out and examine neurosis.  It was a breathe of fresh air to find someone with similar thoughts.

I find that there is so many good artist out there.  So many well done pieces, but how much of it means anything.  I see so much work that is a almost like a brand  work that feels like a McDonald’s logo.  You just keep being beaten over the head with something that is souless, like  a painting of a celebrity… When was it the job of the artist to just give into celebrity.  When did we just become microphones for pop culture.   Was it Warhol?  Have we not recovered from what he was doing?

In Warhol’s time it was original.  After reading the philosophy of Andy Warhol, written by the artist himself, you get a clearer picture of what his work meant.  He was bringing down the “high art” elite feeling and bringing it to the same level as the everyday artistic values we see.  The design of the Coke , the soup can, and the celebrity that we see on the big screen, but we’ve come farther than that.  In our world celebrity has taken over, art is now ever present and viewable by the public, and access to it is a click away.  I think that now,  if you paint a picture of some childhood nostalgia it is just as bad as a movie remake.  You’re regurgitating an idea that is not your own.   Is it a connection to  a “simpler” time or the just because pop is something everyone recognizes… Is it wrong for me to think of is as unoriginal…    I dunno.  I’m ranting.  More power to those artist, but it’s an unsatisfying visual meal.  I hunger for something that brings fits of synesthesia.  Something that can make me hear sounds, and ask questions about meaning in this world and the one of the artist.  I’m consistantly in search for meaning through painting.

  I just finished reading Concerning The Spiritual in Art by Wassily Kandinsky.   His theories a about art and how to move it forward are inspiring.
“The artist must have something to say, for mastery over form is not his goal, but rather the adapting of form to its inner meaning.” (Kandinsky, 54)  I’m just looking for meaning in art just like I look for it in music.  I want something to move me, to question an artist’s motives,  the artist’s inspirations, the life the artist themself… I want to have to look deeper.  I want to be confused, angered, scared, and excited.

Last tie I felt this was the Ai Wei Wei Show at the Brooklyn Museum of Art.  At first, I was confused by some of his pieces, angered at how basic some of it was, but as I kept going you could see the power and the connection between all the pieces.  After I left the exhibition it all kind of sank in.  the ideas of change, transition, breaking tradition…defiance.  I was left in awe.  The artist made his life the art work.  He was the piece. How do you make life art?

Moves

I recently came back from a trip to New York.  I went out there to celebrate my birthday.  It was a combo birthday thing since Erin’s birthday is a few days after mine.  The magnetism of that city is real.  I can see why it is so attractive.  I keep asking myself what would I do out there.  I’d make art… what else.  I need to realize this.  the block that has been holding back is starting to lift.  I’ve been making work in the mean time. lots of sketches, sculptures. installation ideas, and a few minor paintings here and there.   They are all starting to build .  I feel the wave growing again.  I guess it was my time to rebuild some ideas that I had.  I still have many things left undone, but I’m finding love in the basics.  That’s where it starts I guess. 

Looking into Grad schools as usual. I feel like I need a place to push some ideas further.  I need to just focus purely on the creations and ideas.  I’ve been on a steady path for the past few months financially, but things get boring when you get too comfortable.  I need to shake it up.  Where is the next place to go?  What will things be like in 5 years?   I’m interested in it all again.

Been awhile.

It’s been a few months since I posted anything.  Much like any pursuit, life tends to get in the way.

I’ve been working the normal job for awhile now.  I’ve basically been trying to play adult with bills and banks for the moment.  I have been making work.  I didn’t paint for about two months after the residency.  I had about two or three shows since I got back   as well. So I don’t feel so lazy.  It took me awhile to get my head back in the game though.  There is a hard pressing feeling when new ideas are trying to breathe and meld with eachother.  I sometimes wish I could force it out, but that would just lead to a waste of time.

So i put energy into other adventures.  a little bit of traveling, writing here and there, playing music again, and then drawing. I ended up finding a box of color pencils I’ve had since 98.  I also ended up finding a sketch book of natural paper.  This has been the catalyst I’ve needed.  I’ve been breaking down the concepts of the body, movement, dimensions, and the unknown.  The work still revolves around the autobiographical mythology.  I’m starting to understand the characters/deities and the world they live in…(My head/soul).  This has lead to other ideas about time, space, the nature of “magic”, the sight, and the dimensions.  So things are opening up…  Now I just need to pull the trigger.  I have sketches and new work mapped out.  now I just have to pull the trigger.

This piece was a installation that consisted of four pieces.  Two paintings as focal points, a base shrine, and the center piece.
The center piece was a cage suspended in air using yarn to hold it’s weight in a tunnel or tornado like fashion.  Inside the cage held
slips of paper I like to refer as cosmic symbols that were partially burned.
The whole piece represents the the connection to the other worlds. One painting showing sexual desire and it’s link to release.
One painting showing the passing of life into death and then rebirth back into life. The Shrine representing the elements of the world and our
connection to the material.  Last is the cage.  This area that few can grasp… This divinity to be here in the material world, and yet have a connection
to the beyond.  Much like they say prophets connect to the world beyond our own.

AltarofCagedDivinity_6
AltarofCagedDivinity_2
Close-up _ACD
In Burning Desire
Shrine of Elemental Connection

Airplanes

With a taste for the dramatic and symbolic, I shed my last days of being in my Twenties on a celebratory experience.  The experience would be more life changing than I thought.  I boarded the plane heading to Charlotte,NC with a connecting flight to New York, New York.  I slept for the most part on the way to Charlotte. I had the celebration for the night before to contend with at the time. 

As I landed, happy to stretch my legs, I was thrusted back into the Middle of America and bits of the South.  You forget that people are over weight, not use to seeing people with hair like mine, and over all still afraid of others.  I walked around watching the different groups of people huddle at their terminals.  Looking at the types of people that go to Fort Lauderdale, Boston, Phoenix, and the like.  Weird caricatures of the American life in each little box.

On my connecting flight, headed to New York, I tried to keep my self together.  The heat, the altitude, the small flying tube full of of cramped people… All of it started to get to me.  I got up to get some water and begged for the flight to be over.  Lucky for me this was only an hour long flight.  I exited the plane happy to be free, but dreading the New York heat.  A muggy, thick heat that lingers and bounces off of all surfaces.  

After reclaiming my bags I wondered out of LaGuardia.  The lines of people trying to catch cabs was ridiculous.  I remembered directions and instructions on how to get to my friends place in Washington Heights.  I hopped on the M60 headed in that direction, but to my surprise I realized that I can’t pay for the bus with cash.  I had to get a Metrocard.  Luckily, the bus driver gave me a nod and simply let me pass with a “Get on Dread”.  (Thanks dude.)  

A few stops in, and confused as hell I get off… Thinking I was close.  I was not.  I was in East Harlem.  I grabbed a cab and talked to the Cabby.  Told him I was from California, I was there to make art in a summer residency.  He told me he loved art.  Soon I was there, W179th…  The cabby helps me get my bags out.  I wave him off and drag my luggage across the street.  There I was, luggage in hand being stared at by a large group of Dominicans.  One dude thought I was lost and told me that the train was a few blocks away.  I assured him that I was meeting a friend.  I called my friend, who happened to give me the wrong address, as she quickly came down to help me.  The doors swing open and there with a big smile was Cathleen.

I am Odysseus

I leave on a journey. This journey of self and craft. I hope to push myself, my mind, and my creativity. I have my tools. It was good to see, so many friends and family. Thank you all for your love and support. Image