BEWARE of the DOGMA

Having no conviction that whatever I do in this life will be forgiven in the next means that I tend not to do anything that needs to be forgiven now.

The combination of dogmatic belief and the promise of redemption or reward means that too many attrocities are carried out in the name of one god or another.

An atheist never has to say your belief is wrong.
To an Atheist beliefs are just that...beliefs... acts of faith,not facts of faith.How strange then, that the more people believe in a god the more willing they are to behave like a devil.
An Evangelical Christian I work with said to me that if there were no muslims there would be less trouble in the world..."If there were no gods," I replied, "There would be no trouble."
I think my Karma ran over his Dogma.

Can you imagine how an atheist feels when he sees people killing in the name of nonsense, When intelligent people read a two thousand year old fairy story and commit genocide because of it. Water into wine... pumpkin into a carriage.....will somebody please tell me the difference.
Can you imagine.......you can now. My latest angry,passionate picture......

RANT

Anyone who has glanced at my blog will know I am very opinionated and very passionate and therefore often left reeling by a world that saddens or sickens me. Most of these things start me ranting... first to myself and then at my long suffering friend " Marmaladekiss". "This is the sort of thing you should say on your Blog"..... so...
Just watching the news. Those poor girls murdered in Ipswich by Steve Wright. The most vulnerable of our countries children, who for various reasons have tumbled down society's ladder. Whoever or whatever they were they didn't deserve to be preyed on for the satisfaction of a madman...
BUT .. now our TV's and newspapers are brimming with their families and friends parading their grief... saying how their babies had been taken from them and more than five lives ruined ....
WHERE WERE THEY ...when these girls slid into drug abuse and prostitution? Would they have paraded themselves in public and cried "That's my daughter!" when they were still alive?
I know these things happen and the families perhaps tried everything possible to rescue their babies from this awful existence. I don't dispute they are genuingly grieving, but why in public? It is so hypocritical. Maybe if these girls had had the support of family and friends when they were alive they still would be.
And just wait to see the list of prostitutes on the news who were picked up by him and lived to tell the tale... a few minutes of notoriety and then back onto the streets to become victims again. How many of them will die from their habit and will that be reported? Will their parents parade their grief? I doubt it.. perhaps murder sells more papers than the slow death of drug addiction and prostitution.
We should all be grieving, they are all our babies and we are all to blame.

PASSION

I am passionate about passion. I hate apathy. I will always admire conviction however misguided I think it might be. I am willing to listen to the most dogmatic of beliefs as long as they are driven by passion. When I've finished creating something born of anger or desire, I am left gasping for air and dripping with sweat ...exhausted by the release of this passionate energy. Whether my mouth is twisted with anger as I scratch a venom fuelled pencil across a canvas, or trembling with emotion- choked tears as I try with painful, futility to explain my careless love or beaming with unrepentant joy at one of my corny pantomime scripts.... my passion is always the same. My dearest friend says she likes my ranting... she says it turns her on! Well that is a gift I am very grateful for...but even without this very welcome bonus I would still rant about anything I can to anyone who will listen. Our opinions are the one thing that are truly our own and we should fight tooth and claw for them to be heard and listen without prejudice to anyone elses. When people stand in the middle of the road they get run over.


Of course when I speak of passion many people think of love, but in reality passion has more in common with lust than love and although I believe now that one can enhance the other it is not an exclusive relationship... you can have physical passion without emotional love. I believe this because as a hedonist I have always enjoyed very intense and passionate physical love but until quite recently had been indifferent and dismissive of emotional love. By physical I don't mean the "Mills and Boone" running across a wave lashed beach dyed orange by a tropical sunset type of love ...but the squirty, squelchy, tongue -tangling, bed -staining type of love. As for emotional love, I wont pretend to know much about that. I am very new to this and I find myself constantly torn between soaring highs and crashing lows. The highs are difficult and the lows impossible. Moments of ovewhelming joy and friendship interrupted by jealousy and resentment...but as always I use this passion to create, I process these feelings good and bad into my art. As an emotion it is uncontrollable but as an inspiration it is unsurpassed.
It inspires pictures of confusion... " An earthbound, nympholeptic, fool reaching for the moon"

It inspires pictures of sadness... "Burden of Paradox"

It inspires pictures of clarity ...."Freed by wisdom, soaring with knowledge"


It also inspires words, untangling rhymes clumsily explaining the unexpainable....,

I Know A Fool

I know a foolish and uncaring man,
Who makes his world as empty and sad as he can.
The road that he walks is edged by a wall,
It’s not very wide and not very tall.
Over the wall there are wonderful sights,
Full of beauty, love , passion and lights.
And this foolish man knows it exists,
And he wants to be there but still he resists.
So he dreams he could be a little more tall,
But wont bother climbing over the wall

And he sits to eat food that’s covered in mould,
Maggoty fruit and bread that’s days old.
But all round the table are good things to eat,
Trees laden with fruit and fields of fresh wheat.
But he doesn’t bother to pick the food that tastes great,
After all the mouldy stuff’s here on a plate.

When a mantle of stars cover the land
The foolish man stares at the palm of his hand,
His hand is familiar, so he mumbles in sorrow,
One day I’ll look up…maybe tomorrow.
Why crane my neck to look in the air.
After all, the stars will always be there.

I am this man ,who stares at the wall,
Desperate to climb, but scared he might fall.
Who makes second best of whatever he’s got
And gazes with love at what he has not.
So take my hand and show me what’s there,
Teach me to love, teach me to care.

With Valentines day over I guess many people are thinking about passion. Some people think that the bigger the card the more they are loved, they will coo over a bear holding a heart a symbol it appears of universal love. One of 10's of millions mass produced in china and bought by lovers to show their special someone that they are someone special. So special in fact that they are given a totally impersonal gift made by strangers and given to a million other "someone special's" on the same day.
I told my someone special that if I ever gave HER a bear holding a heart it would mean that I had completely lost interest...so I then promptly gave her a bear holding a heart. One I had designed and drawn especially for her...not to everyones taste my "Alternative Valentine" but it made me smile and her happy in the knowledge that someone thought her special enough to take time and effort to be passionate about their passion...... and here it is "A bear holding a heart." Just one of many cards we have exchanged over the years. Each one lovingly made to measure,a perfect fit for the day, year and moment of our friendship. "Birthday Kisses" perfect for lovers.

"Your Many Faces" perfect for friends.....

My friend is a very talented artist and inspired crafter. A veritable wizard with the sewing machine turning out delicious retro bags, enchanting tarot card pouches and sensual corsets as well as cards and gifts for her friends. To see the wonderful, passionate, thoughtful gift that overwhelmed with emotion this year check out "Marmaladekiss".

PROSTUTION... Now I have your attention this is the part where I very reluctantly mention that should anyone want any of the above passionate pictures as posters, postcards, or greetings cards then send me a mail or comment...but for now bye bye everybody... bye bye.

WANTING AND NEEDING

AVARICE !!!... It sounds like a disease... but its worse than that, its a plague, a pestilence that infects every corner of the earth....And it's fatal.

Greed is the biggest killer of men women and children this planet has ever seen and given time it might even kill the planet itself.

You see we have forgotten the difference between wanting and needing.

Our needs haven't changed for thousands of years..something to eat, something to drink, something to wear and somewhere to shelter. Our wants, on the other hand, change every day. Needs can be satisfied, wants are insatiable... always craving bigger, better, newer.

If people started wanting what need and stopped needing what they want the world would be a much happier place.

Although I seem to curl my lip and shake my fist at greed almost every single day. Not much has made me as angry as the sale of BodyShop in 2006.

BODYSHOP... that paragon of ethical consumerism... proof positive that money and the world could live in harmony, sold to L'OREAL a cosmetic company that feeds our vanity with panaceas of eternal youth. Each magical potion and lotion tried and tested for our complete satisfaction...on animals. A great, greedy, gulping multi-national that boasts Nestle as a major shareholder.

Many people felt angry, betrayed, used and very stupid for ever believing that a venture designed to make money had ever really cared about anything else

I suppose we shouldn't have been surprised, there is a mathematical correlation between money and morals ....the more you have of one the less you care about the other.

I am now resigned to the fact the Bodyshop was a con. As an attempt to make us feel that it was good to spend money it was the worlds greatest piece of ethical marketing and its most cynical.

But at the time, when I was boiling with fury, I spat ink onto a piece of paper and this was the result :

I am proud to confess that my understanding and commitment to an ethical and sustainable earth is in no small part due to my dearest friend and soul mate...the delicious Pagan Princess who holds my heart in her hands...Julia. It is her intellect, purpose and honour that has guided and inspired me in these things and bolstered my socialist rantings at an unjust world with calm common sense.

In 1215 the worlds first and perhaps most important democratic document was signed. The Magna Carta stripped away the idea of divine right (albeit for about an hour), instilled the concept of Equal Justice for all and most importantly defined the idea and right of Habeus Corpus. I'm not sure if that handful of Barons who signed the Great Charter at Runnymeade on that June day would have been pleased or saddened to know that nearly 800 years later the world is still a feudal place, with the richest 10% owning 85% of the worlds wealth.

We live in a world that produces enough food to feed us all twice over and yet a child dies every 3 seconds from hunger. If this world were a house.. 10 people would be in the kitchen feasting while 90 starved to death in the living room. Don't get me wrong no one is dieing on the other side of the world. The world is a sphere it only has one side...the outside, and we all share that!

This corporate greed that denies the world and its people dignity, justice and life has often left me sickened and contorted with anger, spewing bile fuelled words and pictures across an innocent white page.I sent one of these angry pictures to a publisher of protest postcards. They returned it...

" A bit OTT" They said.

"Good!" I thought, "So it should be."...........and here it is.

On the way home from a family outing I put it to the children that we should stop somewhere on the way. I suggested TOLPUDDLE.. we could stand under the Sycamore tree where in 1834 the worlds first trade union was formed.. the first faltering steps on the road to workers rights and freedom..I then ragaled them with the story of George Loveless and his formation of the "Friendly Society" his trial, deportation and eventual pardon after public outcry.

"Or," I mumbled, "We could go to Stonehenge."

"STONEHENGE!!!" They cried as one. Oh well I don't blame them, it was impressive, powerful and very beautiful.

However, undaunted in my quest to prise their gaze from Pop Idol long enough for them to have an independant thought,I drew a comic strip. A fable of greed and stupidity or a spiffing yarn which I called "The Wheel"...

and here it is...

These next few lines are the ones I have agonised over more than any other.. written them, deleted them, rewritten them, had a sleepless night and deleted them..spoke to my best friend and rewritten them... So on the rather tenuous and not altogether convincing basis that I too have needs ,some of which aren't sated below the waist, I now prostitute myself and let you know that if you should want to buy postcard or poster prints of " Are you worth it" or "Cereal Killers" or maybe "The Wheel" in hard copy or disc... then drop me a mail or leave a comment.

So until next time bye bye everybody....bye bye.

BLANK SPACES AND BLANK FACES

What a daunting thing an empty page is, unsullied and perfect.

So what imperfections will I fill mine with ... nothing much ...my thoughts, my feelings, my dreams, in short ....my art.

So if you want to see a fiery orange sunrise piercing the branches of a mighty oak and dappling the daisy dotted meadow with splashes of gold...wake up early and look outside! Because you wont see it on this page.There will be no paintings of blood- red, dew- moistened acrylic Orchids here, nor adjective-oozing odes to woodland waterfalls... these things are too beautiful to copy.

I may make a clumsy attempt to paint how the Oak tree makes me feel, but not the Oak tree itself, why would I? When it's perfect already.

NO...here you will find Emotional Art.

All the things that compel me to pick up pen or pencil and create........

My Things ;

Frivolous Things.. because the devil in me can find no better reason for anything than that it gives me pleasure.

Funny Things.. That coax a wry smile from my lips or surprise me with a spontaneous, barking belly laugh.

Angry Things.. That make me seethe with fury or cry with despair.

Inspirational Things.. That twist my arm behind my back and frog march me reluctantly towards love.

All the things that make me wonder why this chameleon-like sexual predator didn't change as the world around him did.

So I sit in front of the PC idly drawing rectangles with my cursor and with my mind firmly entrenched in the "Summer of Love" I vaguely recall;

When intellect meant radicalism...

When heroes climbed mountains instead of implanting them...

When Big brother was a tool of oppression not suppression..

When we worshipped integrity not celebrity..

And when people dreamed of a better world not a better house...

Yes... I sit in front of my PC (Police Constable???) and idly draw rectangles with my cursor( A witch you didn't buy heather from???) and decide perhaps the world isn't really any worse than it was... but maybe the people in it are.

Now then...... what shall we talk about ?