Words That Change

Diary of an Unborn Writer #58 – Personal change, electoral choices

In essay on 8 May, 2010 at 21:32

Thanks to Poetic Shutterbug for this photograph

The turn

You wear it like a stink and if it were not for the casual gibes and rib-digging from those around you, you could well collapse.

Company for you is not something to gloat about. It’s generally something you perform in or wither in self-pity or anxiety. Other people, in the distance causing great joy, up close bring you a great deal of pain that is becoming more and more difficult to ignore.

They present reminders.

These reminders are pains in the belly, shrivelling of hearts like dry leaves in a fire. Sensitivity to the room and a clinging to old notions, perceptions of yourself.

You bright spark are the reminder of your own being, not the misidentified trends that pushed you into the ground.

Not the loving, or the sadness, not the joys of bedsheets or memories of wine.

Simplicity sits in this circle and a tiny open glance will show what warmth there is for you and all beloveds.

If we would only stop to see.

Election

I’ve been quite alarmed by the UK election, perhaps as followers on facebook and this blog may know. I live almost in ignorance of politics day to day. I follow it in newspapers but more like a game show or a sport. It’s been a while since I felt it mattered. Numbed through lies and disappointment – something 13 years with a Labour government is bound to give.

As things stand we have a Conservative-Liberal Democrat pact on the cards. For those not acquainted with UK politics – this is like Bush teaming up with a small-scale Obama to share power. Clegg is widely travelled, well-spoken in 5 languages, outstandingly well-educated. He’s a cuddlier version of David Cameron – a rather shrill, equally as well-educated though unlike Clegg, he wears his privilege as a stink while cosying up to the lower classes.

I’m astonished that the Conservatives won. I allowed hope to cloud the reality that Britain has not changed, or the change is still underground.
Immigration came to the fore in the final days and the votes solidified around it. Britain is not ready for the Open Society. That’s fine. Perhaps it will be soon.

Change

I wonder as a man, what avenue is best to help changes in society work their way through. As an artist its too easily to be labelled quaint and irrelevant. You can be radical but people treat your voice as a product of something removed from the importance of day to day.
Andy Warhol spoke of the the uselessness of art. The process-oriented world meant that it would – at best – have a minor effect:

“Whatever kind of visual statement you make you make has first to pass through fashion design and furntiture design until it finally becomes mass produced; finally, a gas pump might look a little differnet because of a painting you did.”

But what if you can get inside the process? Warp and shape it a little. Allow minds that shape it to relax a little. What could happen then?

Ars in machina

The whole chirade comes toppling down. Or at least gets a little softer.

~o~

I often collapse at this point into some winsome swirling monologue but I’ll leave you with a line that kept me sane for a time.

Love
Like it never felt like dying.
Let it fall in tender curls
And bridge the gap between
Heart and mind

Sing in a free-asking
Business of desire
That you’ll take what’s yours
And in the overflow

Bring others with you.

~o~

This post is dedicated to 365 who asked me to write on sustainability.
Please suggest a topic! Either in the comments or to arjunasoctupus @ gmail . com. Thanks all!

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