Outside Now

It is important to me that people believe in my work. Its not out of the realm of possibility that I'm delusional and that my work only means anything at all to me alone. It occurs to me that my heaven and hell is my own, and perhaps it'll always be alien to the world. Worse yet, maybe my real fear is that its all kitschy like the 50's illustrations of political propaganda and that it'll never be seen by the general public as "high art" This could very well be true, and I should be ready to accept this possibility and settle for my art's significance to my own inner self at the exclusion of the outside world.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uOB6m8c8WI

These executives have plooked the fuck out of me
And there's still a long time to go
Before i've
Paid my debt to society.
And all I ever really wanted to do was
Play the guitar
'n bend the string like:
'reent-toont-teent-toont-teenooneenoonee'


I've got it!
I'll be sullen and withdrawn --
I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm
Of my own secret thoughts!
I'll lay on my back here 'til dawn,
In a semi-catatonic state
And dream of guitar notes
That would irritate
An executive kinda guy...

[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/outside-now-lyrics-frank-zappa.html ]

Well, I guess that one did the trick!
If they only coulda heard it,
Half-a-dozen of 'em woulda strangled
While they was suckin' on each others' dick!


But that was just a bunch of
Imaginary notes I played --
Just a little extra somethin'
To keep me goin' from day to day
But that's okay --
I'll be gettin' outta here pretty soon --
Then I won't have to live
In this ugly fuckin' room


I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...

-Frank Zappa, Joe's Garage - Outside Now.

Zappa's first band, the Mothers, was said to have "no commercial potential"

Requiem for Osiris

How does one communicate on the canvas the sense of dread our ancestors felt when the sun died? This miserable illusion, that a king must die a sacrificial death in order to bring the Sun and save his people. So powerful is this illusion, that even today, in the face of modern astronomy, there are still people who believe that it is the sun who is setting rather than us, earthbound, turning away from it's light.

This is one of those paintings I've been born to paint, call it karmic duty or whatever, it is painting itself. In the aeons of human existence, no other human being could've expressed precisely what I am capable of saying in this piece. Its definitely a unique point of view for the Deity. This is the ultimate expression of IAO, which is now replaced by VIAOV. A Requiem for all Requiems. Osiris, in the mind of the Pilgrim, is no longer a spiritual reality and is replaced by a lifeless inhuman form hanging on the cross. The womb of earth, and all the nightmarish ghouls trapped within are but a necessary night of the Pilgrim's own soul in his initiation into the next phase in humanity's spiritual development. I'm painting my own fucking nightmare, years of my life spent in suicidal depression, carrying a rotting corpse that was supposed to be my spiritual reality. Yet I'm not overtaken by this dread when painting it, because I know the freedom soon to overtake to the Pilgrim's consciousness in the form of the Falcon, Horus of the Two Horizons, and the Silver Star. This Requiem is the terrible gestation period for the Crowned and Conquering Child within my own self, Death here being the key to change, to Life. Here lies a great mystery not yet understood by the masses.