Take a man with a half a century’s experience in writing with no college degree who admits he’s not that good — he just works tirelessly at his craft. Mix in a feverish imagination for all things living and beyond. The result is the legendary man with a library card named Ray Bradbury. In this 2001 Lecture entitled An Evening with Ray Bradbury, the sci-fi maverick discusses the importance of universal ideas, hard work and what can only be described as reading everything.
*Calling all bloggers, artists writers editors and all creative people* I’m looking for opportunities to write articles, interviews, transcriptions and books. Please contact me at the comment box for more information.
“To be nobody but yourself - in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you like everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.” - E.E. Cummings
The poet known for his distinctly grammarless and structureless style speaks to what most of the human race may say is a society’s undeniable tendency toward unity structure, rules and regulations. The very definition of civilization is very often that which has been tamed of its spontaneity, stripped of its need to break out of the bonds of whatever group mindset it may be in at a given point. Race, gender, religion, nationality, size, shape and number are the labels that tend to define a group or even an “individual.” If any person should dare to break the cycle of similarity, that person is often jilted to outer limits of Any Place, Planet Earth and thought to be, as fate would have it, a non-conformist - the anti-label label. That person is a stranger to the normal ways of doing things and generally just an “odd thing” to be appreciated for its frankly visible freakishness.
Scenario: Matt has a job interview a with local business firm. He prepared ahead of the interview with a brilliant resume and questions and some answers to the questions he thinks the interviewer is the most likely to ask him. He has researched the firm and sees they are very keen on punctuality, so Matt plans to arrive early to the meeting. He presses his best suit and tie: The tie is combination of blue and black stripes matching perfectly against almost all the rest of his outfit - shiny, black shoes included. But his shirt is a bright racecar red and clashes and contrasts flagrantly against the rest of his clothes as if it had just been coated with a house painter’s hand while the painter had painted the inner walls of Matt’s living room as if Matt had somehow gotten in the painter’s way on the way to his interview.
When Matt arrives, he is calm and cool-minded and eager to make a good impression. He sits down alongside a few other male candidates all dressed in black suits, a few staffers too. All in the room are immediately drawn to Matt’s bright, red shirt as some workers around the office begin to murmur amongst themselves. One young woman lets out a faint chuckle while others just stare at the shirt for a few short but palpable seconds. Finally, Matt is called in for his interview. He his sits in the HR office in a chair near the door. The interviewer closes the door and sits down to begin the interview.
“Mr. Devlin you seem to be highly qualified, the interviewer asserts.” Recent MBA, you seem hardworking…. But I’ve got to tell you…” The interviewer clears his throat with a loud eh-hem. The folks you’re up against are pret-ty good as well!”
“Really?” Matt raises his eyebrows in reply.
The interview rolls on as per usual with all the expected Qs and A about Matt’s previous employment and Matt rattles out questions about daily duties and such. Suddenly, the interviewer is caught in trance. His eyes are locked onto Matt’s shirt. He quickly snaps himself back to reality.
Well, anyhow, we’ll be in contact by Friday morning,” the interviewer says getting up from his chair to shake Matt’s hand.
“Thank you, Sir! Have a good day,” Matt replies with a smile.
Upon Matt’s exit from the room the interviewer thinks to himself, “Holy Jeez! What in the hell was that shirt!” The shirt has just cost Matt the job of his dreams.
Here is an illustration of the conformity of a society being so well woven into a culture that it has cost a brilliant and savvy business man his ideal job. Matt is fully qualified for the job in all aspects but his shirt; and because that shirt choice was a departure from the norm, his interviewer decided to opt for a more color-coordinated candidate. There is not really any logical reason for Matt’s not being chosen other than the fact he is dressed differently from all others in the firm. In reality, Matt’s outward appearance has no baring whatsoever on his skills as a human being and yet, the interviewer places and enormous emphasis on it. In this climate, Cummings’ dare to be different is not only difficult, but detrimental as well even if the circumstances are in fact completely absurd.
Wax freely.
In light of a recent spike in viewers and advertising opportunities, Starting January 15, Art from the Outskirts will switch to a an online art gallery format while still bringing you the usual blog posts in between the art and style of the various arts media.
Archived from November 25, 2008 at Waxing Poetically “My Letter to Hip Hop” by Bridget Gray (2000)
Yes, hip hop: the beats, the rhymes, the verses and the eloquence are moving some to new plateaus of greatness. Well, in an ideal world, that’s what poetic waxers like me would wish hip hop to do. Yet, the reality of mainstream, popular hip hop has lead my ears to bleed with sorrow at what the genre has become. Back in the 1980’s golden years Rakim told listeners “I used to be a stick-up kid…/But now I learned to earn ’cause I’m righteous!” But by the mid 90s Dr. Dre told of America’s t youth that “Bitches ain’t sh*t! on his 1992 song of same name. Now just a few weeks ago, I heard a song called “I’m in Love with Money!” Hip hop has undoubtedly gone a bit astray from its political and social change roots.
Hip hop has gone from this:
Eric B and Rakim “Paid in Full” (1987)
[Rakim]
Thinkin of a master plan
Cuz ain’t nuthin but sweat inside my hand
So I dig into my pocket, all my money is spent
So I dig deeper but still comin up with lint
So I start my mission- leave my residence
Thinkin how could I get some dead presidents
I need money, I used to be a stick-up kid
So I think of all the devious things I did
I used to roll up, this is a hold up, ain’t nuthin’ funny
Stop smiling, be still, don’t nuthin’ move but the money
But now I learned to earn cos I’m righteous
I feel great! so maybe I might just
Search for a 9 to 5, if I strive
Then maybe I’ll stay alive
So I walk up the street whistlin this
Feelin out of place cos, man, do I miss
A pen and a paper, a stereo, a tape of
Me and Eric B, and a nice big plate of
Fish, which is my favorite dish
But without no money it’s still a wish
Cos I don’t like to dream about gettin paid
So I dig into the books of the rhymes that I made
To now test to see if I got pull
Hit the studio, cos I’m paid in full
Plies “I’m in Love With Money” [Actual spelling and grammar by source] (2008)
Ay Homie, Man My Grandma Told Me Dog,
“Plies, Sit Down Sumwhere Bwoi Money Ain’t Everythang.
I Told Her “Sh** How you Kno you Ain’t Neva Had Nun!”
[Chorus:]
I’m Allergic To Broke,
I’m Addicted To Stuntin’,
I’m Infatuated Wit Hoes
Nd I’m N Luv Wit Money,
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money).
[Verse 1:] Plies
Call Me What U Want Bet U Can’t Call Me Broke.
You P***y A** Ni**as Yall Who I Hustle For.
U In Dese Street N U Ain’t Getn Money U A Joke!
I Got F**k Up Money Ni**a Money To Blow!
U Throw Yours In Da Air I Throw Mines On Da Flo’.
U Talk About Money I Kno How To Get It Though.
I’ma Get Money N I’ma Die Two Thangs For Sho’.
U Either Sell Dope Or Rob U Kno How It Go.
I Grind For 20 Hours N***a N Sleep 4.
I Got Da 26’s I Want DA 8’s Though.
I Got Five WHips I Want Five Mo’.
I’m N Luv Wit Money Muthaf**k A Hoe!
[Chorus: x2]
I’m Allergic To Broke,
I’m Addicted To Stuntin’,
I’m Infatuated Wit Hoes
Nd I’m N Luv Wit Money,
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money).
[Verse 2: T.I.]
Everythang From Dis Dro I Blow,
Da 24’s I Sit. Up Under Dis New Whip I Can’t Get It From A Bitch.
U Kno Da First Gone Cum N Da Bills Be Due. One Day Da Hurs
Gone Cum N Til Dey Do Im Gone Get, Meals On Top Of Meals.
Damn How A Hata Feel.
Dey Talkin About It,
Im Tryna Get It Forreal.
Hey Dey Pretendin About It But I Can Get It Forreal.
I Done Slung Every Drug U Can Deal
(Yeah) Plenty Times I Could’ve Been Killed,
But Not Only Did I Live U Should
See How Ni**as Live.
Gotta Water Flood Property,
Dey Both Back At Her Crib,
Movie Wit Denzel N Da Ni**a Actin Forreal.
I Used To Not Have It To Spend But
Now I Got It To Give.
96 Impala N Challengin Ni**as To Steal.
My Neck Gone Swell,
Everythang On Chill.
Ima Ball Til I Fall Keyword UNTIL. Yeah.
[Chorus: x2]
I’m Allergic To Broke,
I’m Addicted To Stuntin’,
I’m Infatuated Wit Hoes
Nd I’m N Luv Wit Money,
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money).
[Verse 3: Plies]
If U Can Count It N Ya Hands U Ain’t Got Enough.
I Want A Money Machine To Count Mines Brah.
I’m Tired Of Da Shoe Box I Wanna See Money Trucks.
U Everythang Wit Money Witout It Ya F**k!
Talk To A Broke Ni**a I Bet His Lyf Rough,
Talk To A Rich Ni**a I Bet He Cheer Ya Up.
I Don’t Need No Homeboys
I Need My Pockets Stuffed.
Cuz Im Runnin Out Of Time Ni**a Im N A Rush.
Cuz Its A F**ked Up Feeling To Ya Pockets Touch.
U Gettin A Quarter Now, U Shoot For A Bird.
U Got Ya First Stack Now Hustle For A Third.
Cuz Money Make Da World Go Round If U Ain’t Heard.
If I EVa Go To Prison Money Gone Be Da Reason.
And If Im Lyin God, Stop me From Breathin.
Im Tryin To Live Good,
Homie Im Tired Of Strugglin’
N To Be Honest Wit Ya Dog Im Tired Of Hustlin’.
[Chorus: x2]
I’m Allergic To Broke,
I’m Addicted To Stuntin‘
I’m Infatuated Wit Hoes
Nd I’m N Luv Wit Money,
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money),
Im in Love Wit Money(Money).
Today’s feature is revisited from October 15, 2008 but deserves featuring once more as it is a very funky flick indeed!It is the 70s arthouse adventure The ABCs of Dada!
Dadaism may be the definition of “art from the outskirts.” It is an all arts movement of the political turmoil of the first World War and a rebellion against the rigidity of the established definition of art during the time. The term’s origin is unclear but it is suggested that it is a nonsensical word to mark the “anti-art” feel of the style.
Dada was a provocative and irreverent art movement, founded in Switzerland in the early twentieth century, in which a seemingly chaotic, spontaneous, and pessimistic aesthetic influenced painting, sculpture, theater, literature, and film. The movement’s name is a willfully nonsensical word, intended to punctuate the meaninglessness artists saw in their contemporaneous worldview. Dada filmmakers such as Hans Richter, Man Ray, and Viking Eggeling were challenged by the developing technology of filmmaking in the 1920s. This confluence of technology and aesthetic experimentation suited the Dadaists’ passion for the machine-made object. The visual disruption created by the Dada filmmakers in the 1920s provided a legacy of aesthetic language for the cinematic experiments of future generations of avant-garde artists (MoMa.org).
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Credit to YouTube user OttOmOlOtOv for this film.
Bonus: “How One Wages War with a Scissors” by Amy Lipson,
a Satirical bio of John Heartfield
Dada is from the Outskirts!
Next week’s flick: Dracula (1931) starring Bela Lugosi
“Because the soul is progressive, it never quite repeats itself, but in every act attempts the production of a new and fairer whole. This appears in works both of the useful and the fine arts, if we employ the popular distinction of works according to their aim, either at use or beauty. Thus in our fine arts, not imitation, but creation is the aim. In landscapes, the painter should give the suggestion of a fairer creation than we know. The details, the prose of nature he should omit, and give us only the spirit and splendor. He should know that the landscape has beauty for his eye, because it expresses a thought which is to him good: and this, because the same power which sees through his eyes, is seen in that spectacle; and he will come to value the expression of nature, and not nature itself, and so exalt in his copy, the features that please him. He will give the gloom of gloom, and the sunshine of sunshine. In a portrait, he must inscribe the character, and not the features, and must esteem the man who sits to him as himself only an imperfect picture or likeness of the aspiring original within.” Ralph Waldo Emerson excepted from “Art” (1841)
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) was many things: a poet, an essayist, and by profession a Unitarian minister. But in this 1841 essay, titled only “Art, Emerson tells why he feel it is the first and last job of every artist to create meaning where there once was a void - to try the emulate the perfect image in his or her mind and translate that person’s soul’s expression of the intangible, unknowable thing which only the medium and the art can express while both fall quite short of their intended glory. He interestingly asserts, ” Because the soul is progressive, it never quite repeats itself…” and therefor every creative moment, movement and insight is fleeting and art is simply the constant chase toward that moment, each time moving closer to the ideal while still so far from it.
Take a man with a half a century’s experience in writing with no college degree who admits he’s not that good — he just works tirelessly at his craft. Mix in a feverish imagination for all things living and beyond. The result is the legendary man with a library card named Ray Bradbury. In this 2001 Lecture entitled An Evening with Ray Bradbury, the sci-fi maverick discusses the importance of universal ideas, hard work and what can only be described as reading everything.
Added note: Uploaded by YouTube member uctelevision
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
To all those who have ever been in love with an “average” woman or have realized a person is special beyond his or her looks, station in life, or bank account - this piece is for you. In a railing and ardently Outskirtish protest of the romanticism of the poetry of his time, Shakespeare’s mistress is real to her core with wiry hair which mangles her visage and a voice that could only be loved by those who love her (and possibly William Hung of American Idol fame).
She is certainly no crooner:
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
Her complexion appears to be deep and dark:
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
…I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
…and her grace all but missing but her love remains steadfast, though her beauty is merely fleeting:
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
My God, these clouds are thick,
So thick, they choke our tears
And evaporate them with years passed.
We know those years are gone
But we still hope that they have been hollowed
With newness and breath as we exhale the smoke.
You see, the storefronts still read “open”
To show our hearts unhardened.
We see a resolution
Upon which sins are pardoned.
Beneath the rock and rubble
We walk toward green pastures
Even if only in our minds and sinews of our legs,
We walk on!
We walk on!
God, please be with us!
