"From: "Mark Westendorp" <marcovandewestendorp@hotmail.com> View Contact Details
To: intimaria@btinternet.com
Subject: LIFE
Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2005 15:31:20 +0000
Hi Mari, seems like a long time again... But strangely enough it's not,
or
not quite... I was at Tsunday yesterday, though i had to leave early.
There's was a really good atmosphere. It meant alot to me, though im
not
sure why. Just to be around people likeminded. Ive never had that. It
wasnt
quite real i know. I was a stranger there. But still, there was
something...
Something of the future maybe, of what could be... I know it's got to
happen
soon, the whole of Life it telling me. I even had a vision or several.
Over
the period of a month when i just had a constant fever, constantly
delirious, eyes transfixed on another dimension, Life in its essence,
without an anxious mind laying debris over the top, just pure intuition
of
the present, just to delight in a smile, or be swallowed up in a frown.
I
understood the whole of Life for a minute or two. It faded. Though it's
still there, underneath; i cant see it anymore but i can create it,
unwittingly: it passes through me, in a creative act.
One vision seemed to last all night. My eyes were open but the world
was
just a pool, a pool of lucid water. Revelation came as a constant
stream. I
wrote it all down. By dawn it had reached a single thought, a voice
told me:
'we are all the same, we have been since the dawn of Time' - Time
being
something created for us, or by us, the same thing in the end. It was
the
eternal recurrence of the Same, that of Nietzsche. Maybe you know it.
He
describes it cosmologically, or mythologically, but its the same
thought.
The most abysmal thought he says. Which it is to the pure thinking ego,
dependent on the myth of its individuality. A social and biological
necessity. But there is room in a person for the ego to be transcended.
To
be at one with our destiny. There is something like a sacrifice in all
this.
When i create i loss a part of myself. I give it up. But then im
replenished, but in a different way: its Life, my eyes are opened to
Life
and to Death, which are really the same thing. I see Life anew. I see
Life
itself. As something that absorbs me and everything else. And the more
i
create, the more i give and the more i see; and the more i see the more
i
understand and the more i need to create; and the more i create the
more i
lose of me and the more i exist as Life, as us all as One. And then my
existence is justified and i no longer need to fight for it. I can die
because i wont die. Because i gave myself to Life. To everyone. And
everyone
gave me Life.
I see what i have to do. But it's still a battle. At the end, the voice
said: 'Know yourself and become who you are'. That came up in Greek
thought.
But to do this i must oversome a dreadful fear. For i am such a fearful
person. And i loathe myself for it. And I'll never understand it. I
dont
underand why i couldnt say hello to you yesterday. It's something that
gnaws
at me know. It was good to see you. Sorry you didnt see me, at least
not
intentionally. You looked well. And happy. And gleaming. Sorry i didnt
put
anything up for the auction. I nearly did. But nothing of mine really
seemed
to fit the occassion... It was good to see some of your work. I wish id
made
to your 'really very intersting art-movement' sketch. It sounded really
very
interesting and the antagonist manifesto was really very familiar
before
reading it. Anyway... It won't be long now.
I wish you well in whatever you're up to these days. Lots of love,
Mark.
Ps. Ive attached my latest work, back and front. On the back is burnt a
section of that mytho-poetic story i spoke of before. The figure: he
dips
his finger into something like a vortex. Its Life i think. To overcome
fear.
His self-perception now caught in the torrent, though one insight has
pulled
himself out and dazed, surveys a new Land, a new Shore. Still afraid to
make
the journey complete. The painting: a depiction of a section in the
story:
'An Arrow fired with Eternity tipped,
Out of Nowhere, through Matter ripped;
And in the flash of his gaze, hit -
His heart, open, his finger dipped:
And through his blood Everything dripped,
A day into forever and forever a day,
In Being - reflection, caught gleaming a ray:
Blind speck unfurling in Time's perarl bay;'
A reference to Creation, ongiong, bound in our every gesture. The
painting
is only a sketch so far. A Trojan horse set ablaze. In the story to
represent the prospect of humanity to the ultra consciousness of a
pre-existant speck, bathed and blinded in the white light of Everthing
at
once, it flickered at the eternal thought of such a creature, and
caught a
glimpse of its own shadow... A figure has stepped out. Many still
remain
inside. I will paint their dozens of eyes amid the gloom. The figure:
its
the scream again. He's been unzipped. As he stepped from the darkness.
His
sense of self degenerates. Open to melancholia. And an arrow sent from
Eternity. There is sacrifice again. But he is not dead. And he wont be
distressed for much longer. There is just fear at first. Through his
blood,
a drop, Time breaks down: there is a soft watch of Dali's. He has
inspired
me alot lately. In him i rediscovered alot of my own thought processes
and
eternal insights... Utter self-belief delivered with utter disdain...
He even said once that the universe began to be redeemed in humanity. I
weaved this thought into my story long before i read of Dali... Also, i
think the grren mound in the middle is Albion. I will paint a gallion,
with
a flkag of Albion...
"
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