Playing God: Deitism: Motherism: Creationalism: Genesism - The transcendence of self

To be an artist is to be God?
The act of creation is in my power. As an artist my role to continually create. A sense of "giving birth" with my hands, my mind, my eyes and my soul. Is this a power I need to learn to grasp and control or is the energy infinite? Is this my own God delusion? By God I mean in the broadest sense of the word. Perhaps. But ..maybe this still is something all more human. It comes back to being a nymph or maybe just the power of being a girl. The passing on of my energy. The beginning of something unknown? The birth of potential? A parent to what... an idea?  Maybe this is my legacy.. what I leave on. The purpose to life is creation and the artist is the ultimate creator. The fulfilment of life or the power of being. As a "god" my creation has free will... to exist in the world as it itself intends. I ignite the potential. Maybe reach some kind of transcendence or eternal existence as the shadow of my creation leaves its mark on something to be found somewhere forever. As I become my art I become not only the creator but the creation. The purpose of myself to create existence and then the art JUST TO EXIST? Again just "TO BE".
I am an energy. "GOD" is an energy. Art is an energy. You are GOD.
                                                         This is just my continual search to try and understand.

Museum

In the museum
We stand as RELICS
Watched by those remnants of the past.
Ageless


Priceless
SUBSTANCE


There eyes see so much?
Stone eyes.
Jewel eyes.
Secret eyes.
No eyes.


We are the oddities?
We are categorised and stored.
Our individuality arranged and seen.
Time has been so       long.


These gods and goddesses.
Saints, serephins. Share your secrets...
I wish I could open my eyes and see your stories. Instead I have to
close THEM.
I. We are just flesh.
You live. You see the heart of the world in time.

White space (which would be the wrong description)

I am sure I have been dead before. Whether this means I have lived before I don't know? Not that I know what constitutes living?
As I get older I get more disconnected from my past. By my past I mean that time when I didn't yet exist as this body.
Saying it is a memory would be wrong. I don't know what happened. It is the ghost of a feeling you see out of the corner of your eye. Something that makes you or I feel uneasy. It is a noise I can't describe. Like "white" noise but NOT that. It doesn't exist here. So I can't explain the sound. The colour is the same. Stare at a bright light for too long and you see those circles. Circles of light but it is a colour. It isn't that. Like a glare of a glow. Blink too much and you almost see it... but you don't. Or surround yourself with snow and the sun. Any how it is a colour or a light that I can't describe but I know it and I remember it and when I go to this place I know I am living somewhere else.
It doesn't feel nice. It feels tense. Tension. I DON'T like tension.
But whatever it is. It is because it is not in the now.
I am not sure it would feel so bad if I could catch it and stay there. Maybe because it is non existence. Or as close as to that you can get. Because like I said. It is a before or after. An eternity. Not that I know that.
It is like floating through nothing. Not in a body. I can't see my body. And it is more a suspension that a feeling of movement. Or maybe moving too fast to feel it? Or feeling it a bit like when your stomach jumps in a lift. Falling. Falling. Falling.
I am more disconnected now. The day is too busy and my mind too blank or bleak. I can't quite reach my childhood.
I think I used to be able to fly. I am not joking. I just used to be able to lie back and propel myself around. Hovering above the floor always backwards. I seriously believe this and remember it. In my old house. The one I first remember.
I can't do it anymore. I don't know when I stopped . This makes me sad.

Grey block

Smoke love

Loves light suffocates harsh world
Rose lips on pale palour
Hauting creation in neon glow...
Flame Flickers.

Lusty limps stroke and sway
LAUGHTER RINGS.
... Once dissapaited. NOW ALIVE.
Screaming
Screaming
Screaming in pure ecstatic joy.
Transcendency beats.

Swathed in darkness
Music penetratign the dancing soul
Rhythm moves the mind
Eyes BLIND.

Lost
Lost
Lost and finally FOUND...
... gushing energy bounds from the heart
seeping from Skin
into skin.
Above, Beyond, Whithin the mind of GOD.

Fantasy tosses and turns the pixels of perfection
Clarity to what isn't known.

LOve, in Love, what love
TO LOVE

aphrodite and the like...

I wish I was a statue then I would be immortal and feelings obselete.

Repeated...

Brother fucker
Blood cutter
Hater
Traitor
Open broken scars and
Push it in
Twist and stab
Hit her hard
Held tight
We’re up for a fight.
Sins are wins
Stab the eyes with moans and cries
Waiting for a time when love becomes a crime.
Rape is desire
Sisters are physical
Stimulation
Nervous system
Sending shudders through your skin
Ripping
Slashing
Reaching in.
Darkness deeper than desire
Passion burning amber fire.
Strangled though
Suffocating silence
Kiss the snake
Do not wake.
Dreams more apparent than it seems
Visionary incarnation
Immaculate misconception.
Re birth in the purest sense
Whiteness stained by crimson rain
Bloody scream releases pain.

Whoever said that love was sane?

Beating hearts joined in one
A way to learn let it burn.
Godly status
Transcendent high
Hear it now
Immortal cry

A visit to the picasso museum...

As much as I of course love Picasso on a visit to the museum in Malaga I wasbsolutl exstatic o fin that it s lso housing Bill Viola's new figurative works.
Bill Viola's ethreal pefrmace work has to amongst my absolute favourite artworks. I find his work completley awe inspiring and yes on a transcendent level.
I was compleley overcome standing in a room of three video instalations. I almot felt the water sweeping over me in all its glory revealing the souls of every viewer. Bill Viola's work is th kind of work that an be life changing just because of the depth and extent to which it makes you feel.

A he work is new I cannot find a video but here is another powerful piece...

transcendence never finalised

I think it has just about killed me but....

Roll up roll up....



I think I have just about finished.
God please help me!?
Marking....

and then
Exhibition!!!


Please come see what we lovlies have to offer... I'm sure we will mend all your wrongs (cough cough)

9th - 12th June
Central Saint Martins
Back Hill
London

The crossing

Transcendence


performne by Bill Viola