"The unborn work in the psyche of the artist is a force of nature that achieves its end either with tyrannical might or with the subtle cunning of nature herself, quite regardless of the personal fate of the man who is its vehicle. The creative urge lives and grows in him like a tree in the earth from which it draws its nourishment. We would do well, therefore, to think of the creative process as a living thing implanted in the human psyche. In the languaage of analytical pscychology this living thing is an autonomous complex. It is a split-off portion of the psyche, which leads a life of its own outside the hierarchy of consciousness. epending on its energy charge, it may appear either as a mere disturbance of conscious activities or as a supraordinate authority which can harness the ego to its purpose...
...The impact of an archetype, whether it takes the form of immediate experience or is expressed through the spoken word, stirs us because it summons up a voice that is stronger than our own. Whoever speaks in primordial images speaks with a thousand voices; he enthrals and overpowers, while at the same time he lifts the idea he is seeking to express out of the occasional and the transitory into the realm of the ever-enduring. He transmutes our personal destiny in to the destiny of mankind, and evokes in us all those beneficient forces that ever and anon have enabled humanity to find a refuge from every peril and to outlive the longest night."
-Carl Jung, from "Relation of Analytical Psychology to Poetry"
6.28.2006
6.06.2006
written on the hollow
we have a map of the future
a bodygraph of heartbeats
hitting the wall of smalltown lust
under a hlaf-holy compass moon
and building blocked starlight
we have scars in this surface of streetskin
too many back-balanced books
shoes worn thin were the sidewalks revolt
and all these traced too deep
filled w/ ink to make more permanent
landmarks on the cityslide
we have no desire to be where we are
on a couch in a secret garden behind the ballpark
w/ birds flying lost in the bridge rafters
lights and roaring traffic-tide make them forget
when to sleep and after hours they circle
crying for nests the can no longer find
we have short attention spans
and shorter lives to get lost in
and the soul of the country has been canvassed
under the safety of crosscolored bordermaps
and knowing no matter how far
you find the same countertop coffee smiles
channeled through the tv for convenience sake
but beneath the blanket lies another story
we have escape mechanisms made
of rusty bikeparts and unatrophied muscle
the velocity of longing
certain sunlit parks were the clouds
still daydream of being butterflies
lovers around the world yet to meet
days were the drugs have worn thin
and nothing numbs the need to keep moving
or rot where you stand
we have a map of the future
let's burn it for fuel and get going
a bodygraph of heartbeats
hitting the wall of smalltown lust
under a hlaf-holy compass moon
and building blocked starlight
we have scars in this surface of streetskin
too many back-balanced books
shoes worn thin were the sidewalks revolt
and all these traced too deep
filled w/ ink to make more permanent
landmarks on the cityslide
we have no desire to be where we are
on a couch in a secret garden behind the ballpark
w/ birds flying lost in the bridge rafters
lights and roaring traffic-tide make them forget
when to sleep and after hours they circle
crying for nests the can no longer find
we have short attention spans
and shorter lives to get lost in
and the soul of the country has been canvassed
under the safety of crosscolored bordermaps
and knowing no matter how far
you find the same countertop coffee smiles
channeled through the tv for convenience sake
but beneath the blanket lies another story
we have escape mechanisms made
of rusty bikeparts and unatrophied muscle
the velocity of longing
certain sunlit parks were the clouds
still daydream of being butterflies
lovers around the world yet to meet
days were the drugs have worn thin
and nothing numbs the need to keep moving
or rot where you stand
we have a map of the future
let's burn it for fuel and get going
6.05.2006
dreams for the devil's birthday party
woke at 6:30 this morning to cook brunch after only a few hours troubled sleep. so shortly after band practice this afternoon i passed out. and dreamed.
it's evening, don't feel like going to the normal hangouts, figure i'll do laundry instead at the corner laundromnat down hill from my house. all my clothes in a white garbage bag tearing at the seams. at the door i think, why am i carrying this bag of garbage? so leave it between the trashcan and a mailbox and go inside. things have changed. the front room is now a bar and hotdog shop, tiled floors like the O and flickering neon. and back down some stairs a large room of laundry machines and arcade games, kids playing pinball, skiball, dancing to a DJ in the flashing lights. What am i doing here? see a change machine, think i'll play, but no money. and no laundry either for me to pass the time while washing.
back outside, but now the hill and street are a parking lot and thick laned road, a movie theater and more shops behind as if the city had become a giant suburban stripmall while i was inside. i feel lost, want to go home. a girl drives up in a slick black vehicle, red hair and a face my mind keeps trying to composite from all the various beauties i've known. have the feeling i abandoned her earlier. "c'mon" she says as i get in, "i'll take you my way, it's safer there." we drive down roads i'm beginning to recognize again but not from real life , turn off the main drag onto a beautiful tree lined country road curving by the river, "why, this is so close, i should bike here more often" it is now daylight and the sun sparkles crystilline on the white leaved branches.
suddenly the woods break and there is the mountain, the bay full of towering rocks, the endless beaches and jade forests. the utopia of my dreamworld, but all covered with snow and thin light. "it's beautiful..." feeling slight apprehension. keep driving, i begin recognizing other spots too up the foothills: the standing gods, the bowl of masks, the last locked gate I had never found the key to. all the trials and tempts of my quest dreams, now down below our winding road. she smiles, "we'll be there soon." through more now completely snow covered pines.
and there a massive metal gate built into the cliff face, with guard of some sort keeping watch out front, rushing around hearding people through the doors. the girl panics, slams on the breaks. "what's wrong?" she tries to turn around, but they stop us and ask us to get in line for clearence. favian's there, upset they won't let him in or leave, thinking they think he did it (did what?), she says "don't worry, tell them you're staying with me" the floor of the hall is ice or thick polished crystal. we aproach the guards, one asks for IDs, accepts favian's story when the girl produces a slick black microcase from her handbag. i notice the other gaurd is holding a laser gun at us, reflected in the floor, except it's really another gun between his feet. and his feet are hands. this sets me off. "what's wrong?" one asks, "nothing," i try not to lose it, "just having a gun pointed at me is disconcerting." "not to worry," he waves me through with his foot without checking my ID, "I won't shoot unless you're a terorist, and i have a good feeling about you. next." i wonder how he can tell, suddenly have the urge to run back there and tell him to shoot me anyway, it would be easier than what might happen next.
we pass through the mountain and onto a cliff road on the side of a deep gorge careening with snow. I look up, and gasp. there is her city, all blue steel and crystal, old domes and sleak lines, both timeless and not of this world, spiring up to the stars. the only time i'd seen it before in dreams is last time i'd died, and flown around heaven robbing its banks.
this time it is all on fire. "no!" she screams. buildings crumble in on themselves, torn to all angles and howling. in the distance the guards rush about like ants trying to extinguish the balze. we run, find a set of stairs, green girders, and climb. I realize I'm on the wrong set as someone climbing the other side tells me to get down so he won't step on me. Favian looks over, "dude you're upside down" i climb off the escher steps, follow them up rightways behind an old crying couple who keep getting younger. to another set of moving stairs, but we jump off quick into the landing area.
selena is standing there, staring through a large glass window as several guards fight the fire on a balcony on the other side. a display on the wall counts down the remaining city sectors vs volume of flame, and the fine print reads evacuation ports will terminate immediately. "c'mon," the girl says, hurrying to a service elevator, "we can get out this way." the building is beginning to rock and grown. "wait" says selena as if in a trance, "look, it's not really fire. it's something alive trying to be born in this world." "my god!" favian whispers in horror and sways transfixed.
"there's no time!" i say, alreay in the elevator and holding the door open. the lights flicker. "but i have to see this through," she says "it will hold" a voice on loudspeaker begins counting down to all flames extinguished. "no" the strange girl whispers in the elevator behind me "that's just what it wanted to happen." the count hits zero. lights go emergency red wailing klaxons as fire leaps up everywhere. i leap back as the elevator doors slam, and the girl and i go hurtling down into the dark.
...
i have not dreamed like this for a long time. and may not get back to sleep for awhile. "i could be bound in a nutshell and consider myself a king of infinite space, were it not for these dreams" for sure the beginning makes sense to my life right now, but the rest... well, at least it is more symbolic imagery than seeing bombs dropped on DC. no wonder i've spent years numbing it out
brrr.
it's evening, don't feel like going to the normal hangouts, figure i'll do laundry instead at the corner laundromnat down hill from my house. all my clothes in a white garbage bag tearing at the seams. at the door i think, why am i carrying this bag of garbage? so leave it between the trashcan and a mailbox and go inside. things have changed. the front room is now a bar and hotdog shop, tiled floors like the O and flickering neon. and back down some stairs a large room of laundry machines and arcade games, kids playing pinball, skiball, dancing to a DJ in the flashing lights. What am i doing here? see a change machine, think i'll play, but no money. and no laundry either for me to pass the time while washing.
back outside, but now the hill and street are a parking lot and thick laned road, a movie theater and more shops behind as if the city had become a giant suburban stripmall while i was inside. i feel lost, want to go home. a girl drives up in a slick black vehicle, red hair and a face my mind keeps trying to composite from all the various beauties i've known. have the feeling i abandoned her earlier. "c'mon" she says as i get in, "i'll take you my way, it's safer there." we drive down roads i'm beginning to recognize again but not from real life , turn off the main drag onto a beautiful tree lined country road curving by the river, "why, this is so close, i should bike here more often" it is now daylight and the sun sparkles crystilline on the white leaved branches.
suddenly the woods break and there is the mountain, the bay full of towering rocks, the endless beaches and jade forests. the utopia of my dreamworld, but all covered with snow and thin light. "it's beautiful..." feeling slight apprehension. keep driving, i begin recognizing other spots too up the foothills: the standing gods, the bowl of masks, the last locked gate I had never found the key to. all the trials and tempts of my quest dreams, now down below our winding road. she smiles, "we'll be there soon." through more now completely snow covered pines.
and there a massive metal gate built into the cliff face, with guard of some sort keeping watch out front, rushing around hearding people through the doors. the girl panics, slams on the breaks. "what's wrong?" she tries to turn around, but they stop us and ask us to get in line for clearence. favian's there, upset they won't let him in or leave, thinking they think he did it (did what?), she says "don't worry, tell them you're staying with me" the floor of the hall is ice or thick polished crystal. we aproach the guards, one asks for IDs, accepts favian's story when the girl produces a slick black microcase from her handbag. i notice the other gaurd is holding a laser gun at us, reflected in the floor, except it's really another gun between his feet. and his feet are hands. this sets me off. "what's wrong?" one asks, "nothing," i try not to lose it, "just having a gun pointed at me is disconcerting." "not to worry," he waves me through with his foot without checking my ID, "I won't shoot unless you're a terorist, and i have a good feeling about you. next." i wonder how he can tell, suddenly have the urge to run back there and tell him to shoot me anyway, it would be easier than what might happen next.
we pass through the mountain and onto a cliff road on the side of a deep gorge careening with snow. I look up, and gasp. there is her city, all blue steel and crystal, old domes and sleak lines, both timeless and not of this world, spiring up to the stars. the only time i'd seen it before in dreams is last time i'd died, and flown around heaven robbing its banks.
this time it is all on fire. "no!" she screams. buildings crumble in on themselves, torn to all angles and howling. in the distance the guards rush about like ants trying to extinguish the balze. we run, find a set of stairs, green girders, and climb. I realize I'm on the wrong set as someone climbing the other side tells me to get down so he won't step on me. Favian looks over, "dude you're upside down" i climb off the escher steps, follow them up rightways behind an old crying couple who keep getting younger. to another set of moving stairs, but we jump off quick into the landing area.
selena is standing there, staring through a large glass window as several guards fight the fire on a balcony on the other side. a display on the wall counts down the remaining city sectors vs volume of flame, and the fine print reads evacuation ports will terminate immediately. "c'mon," the girl says, hurrying to a service elevator, "we can get out this way." the building is beginning to rock and grown. "wait" says selena as if in a trance, "look, it's not really fire. it's something alive trying to be born in this world." "my god!" favian whispers in horror and sways transfixed.
"there's no time!" i say, alreay in the elevator and holding the door open. the lights flicker. "but i have to see this through," she says "it will hold" a voice on loudspeaker begins counting down to all flames extinguished. "no" the strange girl whispers in the elevator behind me "that's just what it wanted to happen." the count hits zero. lights go emergency red wailing klaxons as fire leaps up everywhere. i leap back as the elevator doors slam, and the girl and i go hurtling down into the dark.
...
i have not dreamed like this for a long time. and may not get back to sleep for awhile. "i could be bound in a nutshell and consider myself a king of infinite space, were it not for these dreams" for sure the beginning makes sense to my life right now, but the rest... well, at least it is more symbolic imagery than seeing bombs dropped on DC. no wonder i've spent years numbing it out
brrr.
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