Much can be said for todays young folk, they party with abandonment. The popularity of Hip-Hop culture rivals Don Cornelius and Soul Train. When I looked at the Afrofuture I didn't take off from George Clinton's Mothership. I was on the ship of Sun Ra but I came through Pharaoh Sanders, John and Alice Coltrane, Archie Shepp and Eddie Harris. It was a cusp of light between the worlds of the ancient and tomorrow. I kept wanting to lose it all but discipline and focus to construct what I wanted to see push me beyond the apocalyptic madness and exaggeration of abstract fantasy. A buildable future Syd Mead said, materializing the dream onto this plane. Yes my ultra barn house can float on a bed of alpha waves in a drawing but on a pond in life is a practical truth or suspended by cables. My mind defies gravity at will but floating a house requires homage to the forces at play.
I see an oriental culture like the Japanese but dressed like the Ghanaians and with the music of the Oud, Mbira, Bamboo Flute, echoing through arched halls and open courtyards, the click of sticks, drones, deep drones of bass strings and growns of voices, meditative. The cutting of hoes in the garden turning soil and the chatter of working out thoughts aloud with each stroke. Laughter and tears among the ears of corn and greens, and they wonder why fresh food makes you laugh and cry. Primitive life as it were a romance, a day dream of continual orgasm, splender after splender. War is not the adventure of choice when your flesh is beneath the blade or torn by the bullet or your congested symbionts are atomized into permanent separation. Peace can be boring but so can war. I want to make beautiful things but my hands are clumsy and my art rude. Fitting for instruments of disruption my skills. I strive to refine my art for my own satisfaction. They ask why don't you do this and that and sell these. The lure of pleasing others is strong but it is slavery and bribery. My art is my art and my dream is my dream. You can visit and stay as long as you like but soon you must awaken in your own dreams.
The mind is an open construct but before you can grasp it's understanding something is already in it, something is already in play. This is the secret of awareness, you come to realize you are immersed from the first eye opening. Things are created, carried out and concluded by you, by others. Being awake is an agreement not a control, an acknowledgement. You make the drop, not the ripple, you ride the wave. The shore or undertow requires attention, the call of sirens, the rocks, you must be awake, dream awake, walk on the water. It is an illusion that everyone in a land carries the same dream, else there would be no conspirators, no turn coats, no innovators who go beyond tradition. Tradition like cultural dreams or slavery may need an avatar or a saviour or a warrior to set a new vision before the well practiced minds thus a new future to hold for it's duration. This is why they try to put what is going on in our heads on the big screen, so they can rewrite our future. The book !984, Yeah that was there and we are almost there today. From can you hear me now to time to check in your co-ordinates and activities. Click, aaaah, my mind is my own.
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