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Jul 11Art and homicide
LISTEN.
Listen to whatever it is sound, rhythm.
I’m talking about chaos as about silence, about roar as about the hissing sound of thunder, as the hum.
Away from the city, let yourself go and listen.
A day and a night are enough to realize that making music is influenced, even before our ancestors, from the primordial and mysterious elements sound.
Listen to the sea for hours. One note, subtle or sudden unsettling changes in intensity. an obsessive hypnotizing rhythm, leads to the transcendental.
The wind, first calm, then angry, right in the eardrums with his monotone and imperious voice. The crackling of the fire, the rain.
“Music” above, over the human understanding.
WATCH
Here are the pictures. Delineate the feelings and emotions.
I speak of color as the dark, immense as tiny,
The sunset dictates a solemn song or a deadly melody. The desert is paralyzing in its greatness, in its ruthlessness.
The night is the muse of thousands of works of art, eternal companion of crime.
Dawn suggests rebirth or condemnes to live a new day.
Would you like to see with the naked-eye the sun in its full splendor or to recognize shapes in the unseen?
TOUCH
How persuasive and varied is the body’s earth,
Bare skin, shivering, or lifeless rock, sand between your fingers, blood in your hands.
Touch the searing heat or paralyzing cold…
TASTE
And it’s too easy to taste the delicious fruits and good food.
Find taste in acid, in bitter, the malicious.
No swallow without tasting.
Wine must first seduce the palate, then trick the brain.
BREATH
That colors often produce fragrances. Do you have time to know about each flower, from the pretty one to the poisoning one? Aren’t you pervaded, inured, infected by more penetrating smells, stench of dirt and dead bodies?
What offers this huge spectacle of joy and tragedy, peace and violence, beauty and death?
It’s our own ability and no other living being has it, the drive and passion to turn it into music, poetry, or into violence and revulsion.
As a constant inspiration to the artist as to the murderer.
Heart and mind,
Here are the great architects.
The 5 senses swell them, drugs expand them, pain destroy them, emotions distort them.
Two destinies: an artist or a murderer. Two extremes so damn close together.
In either case you’ll have what the poets call “The creative torment.”
You have to do it. In either case.
In either case you’re a mental case.
In either case you’ll feel like God, you’ll feel omnipotence coursing through your veins.
In either case you’ll have a purpose in life and you’ll pursue it with a morbid passion.
In either case, you’ll see and hear and feel what other do not care about.
In either case you won’t be understood, followed, imitated, ridiculed or prosecuted.
Want to hear the worst? There’s no choice.
