You know who I think about a lot? Rod Serling. He considered himself an utter failure at the end of his life. At about my age, his heart exploded from stress and smoking (the surgeon said, it was in so many pieces, there just wasnt anything to put back together anymore.). And in obvious ways, he was a failure. His shows were off the air. His last show (as western) never made it out of pilots, he wasnt respected by the industry at all anymore. He was forced to finish in fact, which is a particular state that its hard to relate to unless youve experienced it. He was forced to teach at some small town university at the end, and his wife said he was seriously depressed, and I believe her! ha. Its sort of easy to imagine that being around a depressed Rod Serling every day, would be an experience, ha And at the same time, he IS the The Twilight Zone (...!) An iconic conception that zillions of people have referred over generations to describe a personal experiences for themselves. He literally added basic concepts we refer to know, to our language as Americans. It has nothing to do with any particular script, or season that he was on the air, or definable award he never received. He, along with a couple seconds of that theme song, and the image of him standing there withe a cigarette, its timeless and instantly brings all of us to a deep rumination about the nature of our existence. I mean, as an idea man, you cant get more successful than that! But he didnt know this, at all. In the view that his humanity would afford him, he lived a life of humiliation by the end. So that is obviously inspiring, to a person in my position this year, who cant survive and has no home to return to. But, at the same time, this hardly means that if we are forgotten as artists, then we are to become iconic like Rod Serling as a result. Both attitudes becoming nothing but delusions, in opposing directions, the moment we cling to either of them. So which is it? These days, since my computer is down, and there is way to continue, I spend my time looking at things outside, which most people will never see outside of this small, timeless neighborhood. There is a particular shrine, near my apartment in Bangkok (out of many shrines, which are around me here each day). And, I go to look at this shrine each day, and the way an old spirit tree (its a concept here) has woven its way through this elaborate, miniaturized portrayal of eternity..and how its tucked far back between these two buildings, so that, if you didnt know it was there, youd never see it. And every day, someone has brought fresh flowers, and cool sodas to leave as offerings. Its cared for, as if eternity is not something to be feared and avoided, but remembered as the basis of whats happening. This is reality. And, this is so far above western thought in this era. This is where I belong, I feel. I have been secretly thinking constantly the last 2 months, about hitting myself against that wall as hard as I can, to see what the effect it has, if any. Not in anger, or to destroy anything, but in communication of a sort. Im with you, and I trust you, would be closer to the message. That I recognize all that has gone before, both in my life, and what I have observed, is an illusion. And I think a lot about my old mentor, Phil; how he was the first person to ever guide me towards that realization, so many years ago. And how I observed him (Im sorry) to have forgotten this conception in every way over the last years. And how I am left at this realization on my own, in that way. And, I will add, when I read Americans going on about events, they do on the internet, they seem like spoled children to me now. Even the so called intellectuals. Its not that I look down on them as feeling people; but the subject matter. I feel like theyre avoiding - or havent yet been forced towards - this concept which to me describes reality the most dearly, and the most accurately. I feel alone there, without company from the art world.
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 06:51:17 +0000