Friday, January 25, 2013

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Six


i ease back – the faint cool air from the coach air-conditioning gives a surprising amount of relief from the warm summer night, and the warm sun-soaked beers I’d been drinking all evening – with my bag on the seat next to me, I put on my headphones and listened to some cool and smooth jazz music.

the market was a pleasant enough way to pass the three hour wait for the next coach down the highway – a gold coin donation in the form of three fifty cent coins – food stalls circling me like the frozen dead plastic horses on that merry-go-round – the sun was setting and shadows stretched and glittered over everything and everyone – the lines to the food stalls were all long, and the people waiting in them were short and fat – the food looked good though, but I was never going to submit myself to that sort of treatment – around the corner there was a tent selling beer on ice, so I took myself there – how long before the food lines die down? I ask the girl serving me a beer – oh, I dunno, coupla hours I guess – damn... I was hungry

I stroll slowly around the market – stopping here and there to touch some fabrics, browse some t-shirts, toss some hacky-sacks – there was a blues man playing blues on a small stage, and I leaned against a tree and sipped my beer listening to him – strange little children with helium balloons danced out of time to his music – he was alright – he gave out cds of his music for free after his show, and his friends and family hugged and kissed him – after a couple of more beers, I realised there was no use waiting for the lines for food to die down – still adamant I wouldn’t stand in line like that, I approached the polish dumpling tent as it had the smallest line – in fact, it didn’t seem to have a line at all, just a few young couples waiting for their food – I was cool with this – I’d been to Poland and dug their food, a lot – I ordered the lot to go with the three or five beers I’d already drunk and sat down to put some food in my stomach – it was expensive food, but the dumplings were good and I was happy – I sat back on the grass soaked up the scene, watching people walk around looking for an empty table to eat their food at - they're all together, i thought - can they see me?

I got my bag out of the locker at the bus-station – two bags – one with some clothes and books, the other full of booze – beer and scotch – I slid into the mens toilets and holed up in one of the cubicals – lid and seat down, I sat down and carefully poured a good portion of scotch into a half empty bottle of coke – using the toilet window sill as a bar – I wondered if this should be me at an all time low – I don’t know – it felt empowering, badarse, rebellious, and like I was part-taking in an age old tradition laid down by people like me – I took a piss then walked out to the bus-stop

the jazz played slow and cool in my ears – the dusk outside, the tall straw grass waving goodnight to the coast-side setting sun – I eased back in my seat and took long smooth sips of my scotch, synchranisng my mind and my thoughts with the jazz that flowed like syrup in my ears – I felt cool – I melted into an endless sense of relaxation, and watch the world in nature glide by my perfection

the next day I woke early after going to bed late – you see, the night was moon-less, and out there on the coast, sleeping in a house in the trees, the stars were in their millions – together as one, as though it were one beautiful and majestic solid piece of god hanging over me – like a work of art – the meaning and purpose of all art, right there above me – infinite time and space and inspiration – from it, I decided to wake up early and walk to the beach for an early morning swim – morning air, cool and moving - the sand seemingly untouched for billions of star lit nights – a morning haze of fog and salt water filtered the rising sun – the couple of black dots behind the loud waves were surfers, who sat on their boards and bobbed over the forming deep waves – I throw off my tshirt and tuck my glasses and wedding rings into my leather boots – I run into the ocean – each level of wave hits me harder and higher and before I know it, im submerged in the ocean and im awake – the gush as I dive under the crashing waves – streaming as I push myself through the unbroken swells – im a head in the ocean – im a small body floating in the ocean – behind me, land – before me, the rest of the dangerous water world in constant motion - a liquified world smothering the planet with life and lemon jelly - ...tangy

blood moved it's way through my body like my father's red-wine - the trees smelt like dusk, and the birds sang a song to anyone who was listening - i tuned in - my boots kicked the dust - my flannel shirt and the cool sea breeze filtered through the green leafy trees - i took it slow, and climbed up a small mountain - a ridge line - once atop, an endless vision of tree-soaked ranges spread gold - i was alone and high on red-wine and potent beauty of natural-earth - as it should be - as it once was - a floating marble planet (one of the most beautiful i've ever seen) covered in trees standing in a forest, with no-one around to hear them grow tall, or fall with grace from the most natural of deaths - i listened to some psychedelic music as the sun set over the mountain ranges and the beach down below - i was alone, high and holy - a tiny atom in black jeans, kicking against the endless cosmos



Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Five





a couple of forty degree days to weed out the arseholes
too naughty to be forty
a hall of fame at the jamieson pub for cougars in the area
a couple of beers with friends in the fan forced cool pub air
high times at mid afternoon in the bush
having some beers
driving through the dust
talking shit
taking a swim
nothing to do except say thing like
i might go for a swim
i might have another beer
i might have snags for dinner tonight
i might take a nap
who wants to play cards?
sipping a cold beer in the watching the countless deep green trees
swaying in front of that deep deep blue sky
cloudless for three days
pushing a cool breeze around a twenty four degree day
three days in a row
great fucking friends
how did we end up together?
are we this way because of the way we are
or have we made and molded ourselves into this
this strange mixture of smart, mature, open-minded, intelligent, caring, hard drinking, sexual obsessives
an appreciation for poetry, and drawing massive cocks on the photos in tabloid newspapers
so lucky to have the opportunity to laugh so fucking hard so often
too much at times - i found myself trying to hide my laughter
because i wasn't actually laughing at anything in particular
just in the mood
these are things you have to be thankful for
and i am because it is crazy how good life can be
it is insane how well we can live
my on-going  guilt and questioning as to whether i am a good enough person to be this lucky is something i have to live with
a few days later, back home
i spend the day walking around one of those forty degree days
weeding out the arseholes
i walk around the lake and it's very secluded
i walk off-track and im reminded of my times camping with friends
i take some silly little photos
i sweat from the forehead
i take my time and walk around the streets
i take some photos of some hidden factories that may or may not still be operational
i stop off at the local music store and dig the music they're playing
as i always do
have a look around but don't buy anything
i walk down to the pub
blowing my nose as i walk
i order the roast, a beer, and a glass of ice water
the ice water is the best of the lot
i take a seat and watch the cricket
i take a seat and take a look around me
i'm surrounded by arseholes
but we're alright