Facades

Today I feel like this:




This art work's title is The Great War on Façades (La Grande Guerre Façades), by Rene Magritte. You might be more familiar with his The Son of Man, which was referenced/featured in films like The Thomas Crown Affair, Stranger Than Fiction and 500 Days of Summer:



Various interpretations of Magritte's art works are available online. If you want to read more on him, click on the following:

http://nomad0307.blogspot.com/2009/01/ceci-nest-pas-une-vie.html
http://www.brain-juice.com/cgi-bin/show_bio.cgi?p_id=22
http://www.artchive.com/artchive/M/magritte.html
http://www.dropbears.com/a/art/biography/Rene_Magritte.html

Today, I feel like the woman on the The Great War of Facades painting. Although I'm thankful I don't ever have to wear that silly frilly dress in real life, today it symbolizes all the preconceived notions of people about me. That flower is my f--- you to those who have boxed me in their labels.

And enough of the bitch-fit. I love Rene Magritte's work. Actually, I love almost all surrealist artists. They are such brave inventors of each of their own unique universes. As Magritte said:

To be a surrealist means barring from your mind all remembrance of what you have seen, and being always on the lookout for what has never been.

She Just Wants To Be ...

These past few months I've been dedicating songs to other people, through text or a call or a facebook note. Today I'm going to be selfish and dedicate a song to ME.

She Just Wants To Be - R.E.M

It's not that she walked away,
her world got smaller.
All the usual places, the same destinations,
only something's changed.

It's not that she wasn't rewarded
with pomegranate afternoons
and Mingus, Chet Baker and chess.

It's not the stampede and fortune
of prim affectations
she's off on her own and she knows now
it's greater than the whole
of the past
it's greater
and now she knows.

She just wants to be somewhere
she just wants to be.
She just wants to be somewhere
she just wants to be.

It's not that the transparency
of her earlier incarnations
now looked back on, weren't rich
and loaded
with beautiful vulnerability
and now she knows.

Now is greater
and she knows that.

She just wants to be somewhere
she just wants to be.
She just wants to be somewhere
she just wants to be.

Now is greater
now is greater
and she knows that

She just wants to be somewhere
she just wants to be.
She just wants to be somewhere
she just wants to be.

It's not like if angels
could truly look down
stir up the trappings
and light on the ground.
Remind us of what, when,
why or who?
The how's up to us, me and you
and now is greater than the whole
of the past
is greater and now she knows that.

Now she knows.

Another version 1 of something ...

I, Ariadne, You, Minotaur

Attempting to read you, and I’m in a minefield
my teeth chattering against the pin of a hand grenade
you placed in my mouth
you said “I wonder, I wonder how beautiful
it would be to see you explode,
explode like a star, every little bit of you sparkling,
stunning, one last spark, shining so fiercely
weaving one last desperate flight for light
dancing your one last arabesque for the night
and finally fading, fading loudly
violently, until you’ve spent all your fire
all that exquisite pitiful thread of life
until a whimper, a whisper,
fading into nothing.”

I finally see you
Minotaur of my dark dreams
savage beast, monster, eater of flesh
and yet you seek not to devour me
only wishing for my death to shower you with
light and beauty, things that are forbidden to you
because they say, you must remain
the horrible legend that you are.
But I, Ariadne, is nobody’s goddess bride nor prize
I, Ariadne, slayer of might and false light, will rise
Towering with you, a mammoth monstrous swelling
shaking the truth out of their sham fables,
destroying, dismantling, the vulnerable I, the savage you.

Come, it’s time to weave our own labyrinth.
A labyrinth both forgiving and unforgiving
merciful and merciless, terrible and beguiling
soothing and horrid, a mirror of everything and nothing.
I, Ariadne, You, Minotaur.
In our own terms, In our own time.