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Showing posts from September, 2015

Brion Gysin exhibition, October Gallery

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Went to see this last weekend. This is a last-minute blog - there is only a week and a bit left to see this exhibition, so I won't be writing much. Check out http://www.octobergallery.co.uk/exhibitions/2015gys/index.shtml There are so many rich things about the work on display. One of Gysin's hallmarks is Arabic-style calligraphy, done in hot desert colours, glimpses into a shadow-realm between words and pictures, a realm of magic. Another of his techniques is used to create the large pictures, painted with a carved paint-roller, forming cityscapes, dream cities. Friends Popping Out of Windows shows tiny photos of his friends, inset into the enormous structures of the world - again, the feel of magic. Of course, the thing Gysin is most famous for is the invention of the Dreamachine. In the event we went to last Saturday, Luciana Haill spoke of Gysin's intentions in promoting the Dreamachine - to restore an alternation of the dark and light stages of consciousness, ou

On Turning the Wheel of Wealth

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Recently, my partner inherited money from her parents, after her mother's death. Once some debts were paid, we were both better off. This increase in our wealth happened at a good time - our lives were definitely enhanced, but as a side-effect of the death of someone we loved dearly. I tell this tale to point up the paradoxical gratitude mixed with mourning that is the state in which we inherit resources, and the underlying pattern in human life - that of receiving and passing on. The amount of money I received was not large, it will not enable me to retire, or to change my lifestyle significantly. But the amount does not matter in this case - even if you don't stand to inherit any money, consider what you have received from the world around you. You live in a house. It is likely that someone else built it. That person may now be dead - you will never be able to meet and shake the hand of the person who built the home environment you live in. One day you will leave the ho