03-25-2016, 12:01 AM
[Give me a break if I'm completely off] I interpet the yellow cord as the superfluous world view, and it is somewhat unimportant to this piece.
It is the 'Freedom' with upside down 'w' that is the starter. Attached to the disconnected and unavailable female, shows how tenuous how it all goes down in life. The crux of this work is the triangle of perceptual and perpetual cliche. Everything, especially relationships and sex, ties into the trite world, a shallowness being reduced to a cliche... and bodes of the painful awareness of possible self-diminishment. The large weak eye within the triangle has nothing to see, for it is truly a meaningless proposition from where it is destined to look from.
The caterpillar curly Q with scrolls of would-be words, shows the futility of thought to abstract one's self from the false theater. It shows how much verbal garbage there is. The reduction here is that the noblest effort to be a hunter warrior of knowledge returns a penile reflection of its true status as a mere cliche. Yet, the sharp phallic heads promise the effort to thrust thru human limitations and controlled folly however that turns out.
This is fucking beautiful rosygyro. You ripped the heart and essence of being alive away, so meaning cannot even exist. All that remains, is your telling the truth, which IMO makes you authentic. THAT is godliness. Figuratively, the tits and cupcake sex cannot be eaten with out taking away the 'm'eaning of possible freedom. There is a fundamental opposition.
Freedom is possible to me because as you represent, one negates the field of reality entirely, and perversely seeks out the 'suffering' of own presence of being. Such activity is open-ended and is spaciously blessed, and ironically DOES give validity to an otherwise empty world outside of one's self. How? By becoming profoundly empty as one's modus operandi, thus undercutting the reality by seizing initiative. I choose to be emptier still, than the worldly fact itself.
The worldly abyss is filled by my affirmation to create it to be purposeful.
Absolutely, I believe you, rosygyro.
I am tempted to show you some truth/fiction writings I did a few years ago that parallel your artwork. Mine is really mean and degrading > TASTY.
I understood writing as a medium of abasement; I used it to destroy myself/lol & true. I think I do partly understand what you do. My god, I could hardly stop writing to eat or sleep. Twenty hours a day was not uncommon. The business of taking one's self down purposefully is very addictive.
However, I recently underwent a transition. I am now perceiving and acting out of the arising fullness of infinity, instead of grounding myself in emptiness. serloco is a truly stupendous teacher of this mode.
It is the 'Freedom' with upside down 'w' that is the starter. Attached to the disconnected and unavailable female, shows how tenuous how it all goes down in life. The crux of this work is the triangle of perceptual and perpetual cliche. Everything, especially relationships and sex, ties into the trite world, a shallowness being reduced to a cliche... and bodes of the painful awareness of possible self-diminishment. The large weak eye within the triangle has nothing to see, for it is truly a meaningless proposition from where it is destined to look from.
The caterpillar curly Q with scrolls of would-be words, shows the futility of thought to abstract one's self from the false theater. It shows how much verbal garbage there is. The reduction here is that the noblest effort to be a hunter warrior of knowledge returns a penile reflection of its true status as a mere cliche. Yet, the sharp phallic heads promise the effort to thrust thru human limitations and controlled folly however that turns out.
This is fucking beautiful rosygyro. You ripped the heart and essence of being alive away, so meaning cannot even exist. All that remains, is your telling the truth, which IMO makes you authentic. THAT is godliness. Figuratively, the tits and cupcake sex cannot be eaten with out taking away the 'm'eaning of possible freedom. There is a fundamental opposition.
Freedom is possible to me because as you represent, one negates the field of reality entirely, and perversely seeks out the 'suffering' of own presence of being. Such activity is open-ended and is spaciously blessed, and ironically DOES give validity to an otherwise empty world outside of one's self. How? By becoming profoundly empty as one's modus operandi, thus undercutting the reality by seizing initiative. I choose to be emptier still, than the worldly fact itself.
The worldly abyss is filled by my affirmation to create it to be purposeful.
Absolutely, I believe you, rosygyro.
I am tempted to show you some truth/fiction writings I did a few years ago that parallel your artwork. Mine is really mean and degrading > TASTY.
I understood writing as a medium of abasement; I used it to destroy myself/lol & true. I think I do partly understand what you do. My god, I could hardly stop writing to eat or sleep. Twenty hours a day was not uncommon. The business of taking one's self down purposefully is very addictive.
However, I recently underwent a transition. I am now perceiving and acting out of the arising fullness of infinity, instead of grounding myself in emptiness. serloco is a truly stupendous teacher of this mode.