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MONDAY 8.25 pm – 2nd Most beautiful sky this month. Peach colored, cine sky. Whisper of rain's tentative step. The Pill Box Garden goes all orangey RED. Air all still and on edge and clear and dappled at same time. Warm – and yet spookily too-clear at same time.

TUESDAY. 20.34 pm. And more! Even odder sky/sunset tonight – not actually beautiful; I know I over use these terms – but uncanny rather, and touches of Sublime in its real sense. Unsettling. Nature – but . . . unnatural somehow. There was rain on the way. Black clouds. Stillness. But something odd was going on with the light I don’t think I have ever seen before, all the white buildings around here – the tower block in the distance especially – all went . . .well, BLUE. Very odd. Then everything went blue. A strange clinical unnatural light blue light effect, a hospital corridor blue. Then this vast train of jagged triangular clouds moved centre stage. There seemed to be a lot happening at once … and yet nothing much. (Rather like this blog, then.) But the color was extra-ordinary – literally. Everything heightened. It was – as with last night – way more notable than that so-what full-on eclipse a few years back, when you could barely tell if it was even happening or not, like some anti-climactic drug experiment: ‘Has it started yet? Should we take more do you think?’ But tonight – was like a real life Spielberg FX bonanza. I expected the heavy clouds to part and the Mothership to hove into view, hover on down. . .

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Further research on Aztecs et al. Awesome achievments.
Those Mexican/Mayan city ruins: Chichen Itza.
Especially the 'Caracol' or Observatory so-called.

The OBSERVATORY. Can we re conceive [metaphysics] in this manner?
That an OBSERVATORY could be both religion & science, worship/devotion & study/mapping – that they might be one and the same? Star worship.
The sky as goddess. {Such liberation ...}

This always baffles me when I periodically make effort to read science books - which I have been doing lot last month or so. Mount Palomar et al. But the guys – altho brilliant - often take decades to reach same position[s] Aztecs Egyptians et al already inhabited. Tao of chaos. They resent this snottily and cover it with technical names. But like “friendly fire” you think about their syntax and… "the Big Bang"? that’s it? that’s your considered reply to all these marvellous creation myths?
A . . .big. . ."bang"?
Well, I think I’ll maybe take Voudoun over that. . . no prob.

DNA breakthrough talk on radio couple of weeks ago. Eveything explained. But that misses the point surely. What about awe … the wonder… – these little anoraky guys … {All human thought flattened to a dry husk behind a divided pen.} And OK - we need them … but we also need… elsewise and other wheres.

The Observatory . No coincidence – to observe . . . in both senses. Observance of ritual, tradition, the unexpected movements within tradition's purVIEW.

A temple. Round, not phallic and pointed; a pregnant place. An eye's surface. Inside looking up.

That one can be simultaneously ferocious and pious? Is that so hard to accept? Ferocious vigilance. Of our sky and our senators.

To be sometimes FERAL. Borderlines. Thresholds.

And I find it really does give gardening that extra frisson if you regard it (and I do) as an offering to Papa Legba & Erzulie, and/or a placation towards Baron Samedi and Brigitte-la-Croix. . .

Offerings placed at foot of tree:
Ian Hamilton Finlay’s golden head: APOLLON TERRORISTE
+ the arbres-reposoirs of Voudoun . . .

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We have notice of knives, rebirth and singing.

{WSB, The Western Lands}

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The Wyrd = the Norse & Saxon concept of a giant web, inteconnecting every person and incident.

”Any action at any point will cause tremors and knock-on effects at all other points, meaning that all fates are inter-woven, and one decision can affect many other disparate issues.”
{Pagan Paths · Pete Jennings · [Rider Books 2002] }

When I had seen this word before – as in The Wyrd Sisters [cf the witches in Shakespeare’s Macbeth] I had always assumed for some reason it was wyrd pronounced weird. But I saw it today and saw instead: WIRED!

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If you were to ask me right now what I would like to do, I would say:
I would like to make a film.

Seriously. Anyone out there in a position to finance this? It’s probably less of a risk than some Hollywood blockbuster. Something like Marker’s Sunless is still going, on each new format. These are LONG TERM deals.
Seriously: so many options (cross finance deal between Japanese TV German TV BBC4 and DVD sales?), so little competition.
The technology is such we should have a 1000 new film blooms. . .

[Instead, C4: The 100 Worst Movie Villains You Love To Hate For The Third Sunday Night Repeat In A Year. And, now being trailed: How Clean Is Your House? From May 21st, new infotainment ‘reality TV’ slot: two hyper efficient grannies tour dirty kitchens. . .I mean, how much lower can C4 sink? This is the Channel that used to bring us Pasolini seasons, Godard documentaries, brave ruff n ready US indies like Jon Jost, Paradjanov’s miraculous Colour of Pomegranates, Straub/Huillet's incomparable Anna Magdalena Bach, Fassbinder's epochal Berlin Alexanderplatz and Lacan’s Television. To-nite, 21st century C4: Demi Moore in Striptease. Thanks, guys. Thanks for putting so much thought and care and love and effort into your OH so ironic I'm sure programming. Could ANYONE there give me ANY good - or even bad - reason why Striptease should be aired ANYWHERE, never mind a second or third time on a Channel whose original remit was supposed to be as an intelligent risky alternative to the predictable mainstream? And the way in which C4 itself has BECOME mainstream, while shunting all any even marginally interesting film stuff off onto a subscription channel is the WORST kind of undercover post-Thatcher privatisation of desire. . . Half of my movie education was when young and penniless I would haphazardly unknowingly STUMBLE onto films on C4 or BBC2. . .no chance of that now. NONE. ]

And the audience is there.
ICA had to run the DERRIDA doc an extra MONTH they were so taken by surprise by its popularity! You’ve got an audience – in its teens, 20s & 30s that is so used to Electronica, wyrd cross-blend musicks, edgy magazine photography, and not so much post-Bowie as post-Bjork media-mingle, hypertext & avant garde art happening HERE & NOW*, that it is HUNGRY for new images and new ways of presenting them. [What’s C4’s or the Beeb’s idea of CUTTING EDGE these days? Some Wenders Bono mutual jerk-off? GET OUTTA HERE!]
{*: including the rise of so called ‘video art’ which, I dunno, it’s often exciting in theory but something about galleries just turns me right off you know? and there are people - they know who they are - presenting their video "art" as brave new imagery and it’s just 1950s Underground USA re-made re-glossed re-modeled. . .}

We need to be our OWN Angers, Derens, Brakhages then. . .

Off the top of my head, sitting in the Garden this morning. . . I would call this one:
How Soon is Now or How Soon We Forget

Meaning/readings of exile, refuge, hospitality, memory. . .+


am. . .
. . .my sacred Garden. . . under the spreading Legba tree.
Put down my copy of ULMER’s Teletheory, kiss my cat BUCKLEY three times on his sweet little Egyptian head [which, there just happens to be a discreet M shaped mark thereon, M for memory oh yes. . .] and we go thru the wavey boundary of memory's looking glas/glass. . .

And some of the spots in the itinerary would could might be:

· Ian Hamilton Finlay’s garden at Stonypath/Little Sparta. Talk w/ IHF. (It’s a stone crime this man isn’t better known and honoured in the U.K.)

· MEMORY blip: me in early 60’s Aden. . .Baby fingers / hit the muezzin yells. . . about which I remember next to nothing. And Beirut 1968 about which I recall rather more but not enough. . . [maybe I could be hypnotised on air – might get the salacious C4 audience. . .]

· INTVWs w/ friends co-workers directors fans of Leslie Cheung who just committted suicide. + clips, esp. of Happy Together, inexhaustible journey which it is.

· Talk on orangey red sunset shoreline w/ my cine-twin out on the Pacific Rim who has just helped curate a cine season on Film & REMEMBRANCE.

· And maybe, most of all, refugees, here all around me. All around ALL OF US. What are their real stories? Not cliché narratives: but real singular stories of loss, triumph, living on, exile, nostalgia, no turning back. . .the actual EXPERIENCE of this: hours and hours and hours in a dead grey room, remembering. smoking, staring into dead space, lost time, just remembering, re-tracing. . . unable to imagine the Future.

· MEMORY blip: the real I Luv the 70s: we’d just gotten our first color TV and I sat entranced in front of . . .the 1972 Munich OLYMPICS. Who-ah! Talk about avant garde tv! Hours and hours of Nothing Happening. . . just concentrated shots of that door, that landing, Brakhage like. Talk about your turning points. . .

· Interview: William T Vollmann on his relationship to multi media memory, his ‘special’ limited edition hand-carved hand-printed self-illustarted books, his trips all around the world, that book on VIOLENCE [which must be about 10 Volumes long by now]. . .
Beautiful quotes from Derrida, Blanchot, Borges. . .
Sublime muse-ik from take-your-pick: Terre Thamelitz, Ultra-Red, M Ward, Coil, John Fahey. . .
[Oooh! M Ward version of Bob Dylan’s beautiful sad ‘I Pity The Poor Immigrant’?]
There is just SO MUCH waiting to be DONE/USED/EXPLORED. . . even if this ideal this idea this film or all my films remain only a dream, a wish, an EXAMPLE. . .

Just me and a camera.
Editing is a computer-based doddle these days – you don’t need to hire expensive suites.
Me and a camera. Marker of course is the touchstone here. SANS SOLEIL. How can it not be? And how can we NOT follow his lead his example his eye his step his inspiration?
{My two current idols: Marker and Ian Hamilton Finlay}

This kind of intimate cinema is easily as CHEAP as the likes of C4’s 100 Favourite Colostomies – but it has a richness that can’t be bought or ledgered. And a legacy that cant be calculated.
In the FUTURE. . .: fuck fame. Who cares?
In the future, everyone will make at least one 15 minute film. Smallscale, intimate, heartfelt, crazy singular diaristic, weblog cinema!

Anyway, all you need to know, o future patron o mine, is that if you want I have enough ideas for the next 33 yrs. More.

I mean – another massively overhyped overrated (and instantly forgettable) Coen Brothers film. Is that all we’ve got to look forward to? Or glorious. . . retrospectives?

posted by Ian 5/15/2003 11:12:00 AM

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