Luynch Tyme

I watched Basquiat last night. It's still good, although the story is becoming more and more clilche as time goes on. Johnny Cash, Basquiat, Cobain--does every story about an artist have to deal essentially with drugging, boozing, and infidelity? It's so pat that that's what many think is required, or where they get their chops or something. It's not. Future artistes be mindful--to surpass us you will have to live a better life. Have more fun. Better sex. More intimacy. Deeper and more lasting relationships.

What I love about the movie is his inside-it-all-ness. He takes time as his own. With no fear. Spending the last $5 on flowers. Hailing a cab as a homeless guy scooping. Refusing to let his situation dictate who he is. Even if he ultimately fails (after he gets famous, by the way, not before). He sure could paint. I'm'n'a buy me a Basquiat once I get some scrilla. Lars' in Metallica's Some Kind of Monster was incredible. Hard to believe he sold it.

I completely relate to seeing the city with the waves above the buildings. I spent years doing walkabouts in Seattle grabbing for exactly the same frame of mind/state of being. Until I finally got it to stay overnight. Brought it indoors.

The Love Artist is basically the chronicle of this time in my life. I don't even feel like the same person but when I read the book it still pops. I'm glad I went for it. And thank god that I had the strength to put it all back together. That shit ain't promised. (Well actually it is, but when you don't believe--and I didn't necessarily while I was doing it--you can fall out or--more often--take yourself out way too easily. Thus the legions of artists dropping like flies.)

I got the same feeling watchin Speilbergs A.I. as well. The last part with the animation was bunk visually but it worked emotionally. I walked out of the theater and just saw. I was all the way inside. Everything looked good to me. The lights, the wet pavement, the couples walking past, the sound of the bus, the sky--everything. If you can get to that state--of just seeing what is--of realizing that this whole world is in glorious technicolor and rendered in unfadeable reality at the highest resolution in real time--you'll realize that Hi-Def ain't got nothing on the big G.

And I think that's ultimately why prophets say don't judge people--it's not to be nice, cause lord knows a lot of them brought the heat--it's so that you won't bust your flow. Judging others makes you, in a way, in charge of them. Responsible for them. Married to them and in constant relationship to them. Thinkging and caring about them. Pullin g them down. And ultimately we don't want that burden. Or even care. We want to be free. To fly.

I'm working on a radical with-holdall of judgement these days. The gym is my biggest workout. So many foibles and such humanity--and all of us trying. And our shoes are beat up, we wore that old sorority t-shirt with the sexual pun on it, are wearing a patch, haven't showered, and are trying to look cool. And all of us loveable and caring. But also wanting desparately to establish a heirarchy so that we can understand. Know. Stop the free-fall for aminute. Find a little security. . Kiss up. Get some. Order people around or be told what to do. It's the same thing essentially--wanting to stop this freedom for a second. Fear of flying. I've pretty much stopped my brain from doing it's thing, now I'm working on it on a physical/energetic level. My body is trained--energetically--to dominate or supplicate. Because my mind has told it to do so for so long. And my people have lived with that (often very helpful) structure for so long.

A beautiful thing happens when I get past that conditioning. I don't have to process anything. I don't think of the gym--or even some brutal exercise--after I'm gone. Or fear it before I go. As soon as the weight is put down it's straight back to breathing and being. And some day, assumming we're going to all be free and fully realized at some point, we're going to have to let ourselves go. Allow ourselves freedom and grant ourselves full license all day every day. Ain't no way to freedom but freedom.

I want to get even farther in. My stated goal is to be a master of time and space. Wouldn't a love artist have to be? I read an article in Vanity Fair about a screenwriter who won't even write when he doesn't feel like it. Am I that free yet? He even has a mortgage. And a wife. (See, we better do our shit--cause the next generation isn't gonna have half the trepidation that we do. Kids these days come out the box knowing how to ollie kickflip, start businesses, and make movies).

I can feel what it's going to feel like. Already I've made progress in areas I never dreamed existed. Already my life is so ridiculously better than it was that for a while I just sat down--gave up--thinking that it couldn't possibly get any better than this. (Then came the dreams that said if I was 3x better now--or was it to the third power?--that once I got my money together I'd be 5x--or to the fifth power). Now I don't see much reason to doubt that things can get just about as good as we want. And are willing to make ourselves vulnerable to. Right here. In real time. Feeling it. Doing exactly what we want.

And not just sober or at 11 at night alone creating the next great masterpiece jacked up on coffee or smack. Not just before we get on Oprah. Not just without money (or with). Not just Saturday morning before you go out.

Walking down the street at 9am. A little hungry even. With kids crying. Just because.

I could talk here about any number of world events and their ramifications for us vis a vis my worldview. But I think I may be done with that. If my calculations are correct, a few people (maybe even one), just doing exactly what they want--HOW they want to do it--should pretty much take care of things. And two hundred doing it? Four thousand? Seven million--don't even get me started! The tipping point in your world is one--put it that way. And we're all in each other's world. To do this those folks will have to be loving about keeping thier tap in the "flow" position. They will face all manner of tests. That's what this world is for, essentially. And their answer to each, will be yes. Okay. I get it. Will be love.

Not because they're nice. Not because Jesus told them to love their neighbor, or Buddha said have compassion, but because that's the feeling they want to have. And they are unwilling to stop for anyone. Because that's how they want to live every moment. Their birthright. And they've figured out how to main-to-the-tain. They choossile love. They get to live it. They live to get it. They get to feel it. They feel to get it. And you can do that at the gates of hell or you can do that reclined on a silk pillow. Except if you're afraid of either one, of course. But then again, that's why we're here.

Luynch tyme.

(Photo is a portion of the items cleared out of the basement and attic of my childhood house before we fixed it up and sold it last year.)

PS: One other great part of Basquiat--when his friend Benny details what you've got to do to be famous. And stay famous. Find a style and do that style even after you're tired of it. Blaah haa haa. Oh, lord help us.