Monday, July 20, 2009

Paco, would you like a cucumber?

CanWe Swim a Landscape?

Prime thyself. Know the dances. They say that the word Butoh means dance-step, and has the air of a descending, stomping dance. Said Hijikata, “I would never jump or leave the ground; it is on the ground that I dance.” In flamenco, there is also a closeness to the ground which has parallels in southern India as well as in the motion pattern of the Japanese farmer. Dance is a current.

There is also a connection to surrealism, as most cephalopods are neutrally buoyant. Hijikata and Min Tanaka used Artaud’s recording of his “Pour en finir avec le jugement de Dieu” (To Have Done With the Judgment Of God); Hijikata and Kazuo Ohno made a performance after Lautréamont’s “Maldoror”. Feel flows, feet propel. Dogs/ work for man.
Yet, passive swimming is akin to gliding.

Synchronous swimming is a hybrid form of swimming, dance and landscaping, consisting of swimmers performing a synchronised routine of elaborate moves in liquid, accompanied by music. Ivory floats.

Buoyancy, said Marinetti, is, certainly, a gift from the gods.
Synchronous swimming involves advanced aquatic skills, and demands great power, glory, flexibility and grace; artistry, precise timing, as well as enhanced breath control.

Learn to swim. Become saturated in the motion of life. And learn to spin dry. Hone your skills. Love your enemies, stay alert (Orange). Citrus hurts.
Be prepared: these are, truly, complex times. Agh! To live in the hearts of those we love is not to die.


(Learn to Swim! A project of the Bolderaja group
is currently seeking mail art related to this theme.
Latvian Contemporary Arts Center.
Deadline, 1 Septembre 2009.)

Friday, July 17, 2009

Three Stars

I/ got Rhythm!

How I Found My Groove the Middle of a Dream

Okay, so I’m lookin for Franklin Rosemont’s Wrong Number
(without my glasses), & I pick it up BUT it turns out to be
Breton’s Manifesto. Day-um! I dunno about you,
but I got chills.

Romaine-romaine; romaine, romaine…
[note: to be hummed, for two choruses, to the tune
of the Four Preps version of "26 Miles Across the Sea"]

Hey, if you were seriously a surrealist you’d understand. Yeah,
to be sure, bitter fruit sways/ in irritated undulations
& foreshadows the oncoming thunderstorm. Boom-boom,
boom-boom & homina, homina-- if/ you catch my drift.
Goodgawd-a-mighty, I/ am King-- in the middle of a dream!

J’unnerstan’ where I’m comin’ from? Hell, my wife doesn’t
understand me (tho she seems to understand Lautréamont)
& howthefuck y’ think that makes me feel? Hunh!
Oy, which one/ will the fountain bless?

Coined by Kruchenykh in 1913, the word zaum eees made up
of the Russian prefix за, "beyond, behind", and noun ум,
"the mind, nous", and has been translated as "transreason",
know I’m sayin'?

Y’know, sometimes it's hard to find the damn question mark
thing on the keyboard. Yeah, verily, with-out a song, the night
would never end.... Agh! Which one will the ro-maine bless?

Day-um! Listen to me, listen to me!
Hear what I'm sayin'!
Three faces of Brahmin. Three/ of a kind:
Tenpo kama. Tenpo pini. Tenpo ale.

-- mge