A Vision of Transition... Part 1, of 2...

Notes to accompany an art exhibition...

Sometime early in 2018, my Ginsbergian friend, an artist, photographer, poet, and unhinged cannon, asked me to write one thousand words, on transition, to accompany his upcoming solo show, in Manchester.
He didn’t give me much else to go on.
I tried to get more out of him, but he was far from forthcoming.
He talked of writing a manifesto. 
Of a new movement he was calling NeoLiteralism.
Of new ways of seeing.
He was not forthcoming.

Were we writing the manifesto?
Was he?
Was I?

Prior to this we drank a lot together – talked of art, of Emin, of Billy Childish, of Hirst, of Bukowski, the Beats... of visions.
At times he was not the captain of his ship, he sailed into danger.
He had an intelligent, understanding, very attractive girlfriend.
A lady with little memory.
And dark, dark hair.

We listened to The Doors, and Lana del Rey, to Burial, and to the ‘Predator’ show song.
We wrote, I slept on his sofa, I pulled on his sofa, we dreamed, and we drank some more.

This piece may have been my first mix of poetry, prose, musings and quotes.
This is the way it exited – was born – birthed – it was not intentional. 
The first piece in this voice
- my voice(?)
I delved into transitions – reflected - mused: creation – life – birth – changing light – sleep – temperature – time – movement – Kafka – metamorphosis – sound – transfiguration – and to death, where I was inspired by my father, and his end...
I delved into different ways of seeing.
I also wrote the beginnings of a manifesto – some notes – some ideas – some things I imagined we’d come back to – add to – I didn’t know what his vision was – what mine was – whether he had one – whether we were coming up with one together...

I wrote quickly, I had little time – wrote longhand – wrote exhausted - wrote hungover, on breaks at work, under clouds of burning fibreglass, and I wrote drunk...

In the exhibition, there were photographic self portraits – his head covered – there was a huge piece, was it created on typewriter? Was it sewn together? It was impressive – there was more. I can’t recall...

His work, and my work, went down well.
I feel it works well on its own too. 
I hope that you agree. 

*

Reality: "the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them/the state or quality of having existence or substance".

Tip toeing vicariously through my dreams -
I, multiformed, municipal, in multiplicity -
Reveries refracted from thoughts of reflected visions -
Surveilling the spectrum, within and without...
Gradation - a move from reality to a new reality, from realities to new realities...

Continued on Wednesday...