I am risking my life for it and
my reason has half floundered because of it – that’s all right.
Vincent van Gogh revealing his dedication
to his art in his last unfinished letter to his brother Theo
a replied was tendered by Henry
Miller while he lived in Big Sur We’re
obliged to save ourselves – there will be no world figure; no great teacher to
teach us self-reliancy.
later Miller wrote I sit on a rock and think. Or I think I am
thinking.
that
was up his alleycorresponded with his selfstyled persona then when he was done thinking he penned that which
occurred to him penned only because he couldnt paintcouldnt express with brushes what was in
his guts on canvas
with pen and paper he
was at home words were his paints oils
acrylics
Jung wrote Proceed from the dream outward . . .
a dream is ideas and images in
the mind NOT UNDER COMMAND OF REASON . .
Fuckin
right No authority None
Jung neurosis is caused by attempts to separate
the physical and the metaphysical, to set them in opposition to each other . .
. but they can be united through religion or art.
No Through Art not religion Nix religion reason over faith
he read their writingsread their
letters
he believed dreaming was indispensable
the self his self
Jung defined as a virtual point between
conscious and unconscious which gives equal recognition to both . . .
when asked why he painted a couch
in the middle of the jungle Rousseau answered
We have a right to paint our dreams.
Rilke the Bohemian-Austrian poet feared
psychoanalysis he didnt want to be cured
of poetry
he remembered Rilke for that quotethis
quote The only journey is the one
within.
the one within
standing at a window looking out
he didnt recognise the groundsthe landscape beyond not the silver river the treeline to either of
its sides not the river plain where pure black cows fed on freshgreen grass
he hadnt a clue where he was supposed
to be where they were
his girl was with him
something clicked in his
mind she selected the hotel hed forgotten her reason why
when he finally turned from the
window pleasantly confused he smiled
widely at her commotion that drew his attention from the outdoors he watched her bouncing up and down naked on
their bed but it was their bedroom at
home their sheets pillows covers except not the earthencolourful designs they enjoyed rather they were pure white like clouds
bouncinglaughing like a child she was uninhibited happy gleeful
she
sputteredstammered she had a joke to
share with him Wait! Just a moment.
she bound off the bed to the bluecarpeted
floor effortlessly
they had a suite
she ran into the livingroom
he heard her open the door that lead
into the hallway
he leaned back and looked
her head was at the door
she talked with someone
then turningleaving the door she cried Shut it behind you when you’re in! and dashed back
into the bedroom past him
three businessmen in suits
entered
they were loosening their ties
taking their jackets off
they left their jackets in the
livingroom on separate chairs
they walked towards the bedroom
rolling up their tailored white longsleeved shirts
they walked expectantly predatorily
they hadnt imagined him to be
standing just inside the bedrooms threshold
Hey boys
she laughed then she laughed hysterically she had wrapped a light white cotton blanket
loosely provocatively around herself
Hiya,
boys. she slurred it appeared like she wanted to say something beyond
that but the words caughtshe sputteredstammered again and rather than emotingenunciating words tears welled up in her eyes they dribbled down her cheeks leaving
shiningsilver tracks like the river
outside
the tears fell on her scarcely covered breasts
thighs
then she punctuated the air This is hilarious!
he laughed with herhe laughed at
the disgruntled businessmen
Disturbed boys not what you were expectinganticipating huh You did see the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the
door Yah
turning back to her she had
dropped onto her fanny and was pulled from the bedside table something Ah three
swollen prophylactic
stuffed with
something
they looked like
sausages which tickled hermade her laugh
as her tears continued to fall from her eyes
businessmen didnt think she was
funny
but things fallflat
when disappointment enters the equation he thought Come
on get real Whaclowns A naked woman appearing in a door asking you
to come in That don happen to youse Happens to menot youse
finally her tears stoppedthe
laughter stopped
she smiles delighted she humoured herself
she looks at him tears cling to her cheeks still the fade of runlets apparent she dropped the blanket to her hips she sat barebreasted
Ah captured the businessmens attention theyre rapt they look on her expectantly eagerly
Cocktease thas my girl
she
giggled barely able to hold the three rubbers in her hand
with her other hand no longer paying attention to anyone using her thumbnail she splits to top of one
rubber the wound yawned it splitdown its
entire length exposing a swollen sea sponge
she giggled a bit more
dropped
the exposedclad sponge then split the
second as she had the first a second sopping
sponge dropped it the
third was in kind she sustained her soft giggle the three wet sea sponges laid in her lap
she giggled
the businessmen were
bewildered unhappy unsatisfied teased by her nakedness which she suddenly stoletook back tookaway she covered herself
seeing their displeasure she stilled her giggling and looked hard om each
mans face one by one then without looking away from them she
squeezed the sponges one by one squeezed them dry their humour spillingsoaking into the blanket
across her thighs
then carelessly she flipped them
over her shoulder onto the bluecarpeted floor
he didnt understandthough it
struck him funny he laughed out loud
she held out her hand to him
he crossed to her and took it
kneeling on the bed he leaned
over to her took her face in his hands disturbed
the soft fade of tears on her cheeksher eyelids with his thumbs and kissed her
deeply
she quieted smiled in a worn tired way a smile of relief a
smile of power
she laid back
he laid on top of her
he kissed her deeply againlooked deeply
into her eyes
it didnt feel like the
businessmen were there anymore
(One’s) unconsciousness contains a larger and specially a more authentic
or accurate part of their being Wallace
Fowlie
1640, Monday,
27 1. 92
1559, Saturday,
13 3. 21
