† July 12, 2005

An open letter to all Americans, left, right and center.

     On July 7 2005 I wrote in this journal with regard to your President's words on the war in Iraq being justified by these words, "taking the fight to the terrorists".  Also in that entry I connected the dots of... the Iraq war, British support for that war and the recent London bombings.  Something any child of five could do.  But we are talking about politicians and their goal is not simple truth or connecting dots but misdirection.   So they say "no connection".  Do they have you fooled?  Well all that was bad enough but then I heard recently, following the tragic events in London that Bush is still using this "fight to the terrorists" logic (if you can call it that) and I could not believe it.

     I wonder... do you as American citizens understand what your President is saying to the rest of the world when he justifies the Iraq war with these words, "taking the fight to the terrorists" and "fighting them abroad" so that you won't have to deal with them on home soil?  Well... being one of the people living abroad in a country not so far away, Canada, I can tell you how these words are translated beyond your borders.  They come across as pure unadulterated arrogance.  And they say that Americans are more important than not only Iraqis but everyone else in the world.  You wonder why you are disliked, not only within Muslim countries but increasingly across the globe?  Well this is it in a nutshell.

     911, a tragic event to which I can empathize.  As I wrote on July 10, I know full well what it is like to lose someone, not knowing if they are alive or dead, whereas your supreme leader can only pay lip service for the sake of looking good on the political surface.  At least for the victims of 911, Madrid and now London, if a person they loved does not show up they will know eventually what happened, allowing them to grieve and move on.  No such luck for my parents.  911, tragic, shocking but as I have written before, not surprising to me when it happened.  And why was it not surprising?  Number one on the list of reasons is the arrogance of your various administrations of government.  The G. W. Bush administration being just the cream of the crop and the cherry on top.  These people you elect are your representatives around the globe and it is their twisted logic, values and motivations of intent which reflect back to you as American citizens.

     Number two and I can't believe that this one actually slipped through the CNN censors, is the number of sovereign nations to which your troops are deployed.  Some guy, I don't know who he was, said the Muslim nations which breed most of the terrorists are those which have American troops stationed within their borders.  Another simple connect the dots deal, considering that Iran a Muslim nation which has little love for the U.S.A. does not have American troops within their borders and produces none if perhaps a few of these extremists.

     Now I know from having traveled across your lands a number of times that your leader is but one extreme example of the various individuals which live within your borders.  I know that there are people that live down there who feel the same as the rest of us upon the planet.  In my travels I have met Americans who would not think twice to invite us, complete strangers, into their home to offer us the hospitality of a shower and bed to sleep in.  Even those of you who call yourself Christians to which I have developed a deep suspicion (George being a born again) on the grounds of your "we're right and your wrong" attitude, I know there are those among you who just want peace.

     One of the people who saved my work from being burnt to the ground in Ohio by waving frantically for me to stop driving and pull over, turned out to be a Christian minister.  I used to like to say that I was saved by Jesus on that day.  Of course not in the way most Christians would want me to be saved but nonetheless, Harmonious, a piece showing Christ and Hitler in conversation, was saved thanks to them.  And who knows, perhaps the man himself thought it would be a good idea for Harmonious Convergence to survive the flames of destruction.  After all I only put his words into picture and those words were "Love your enemies".  A tough message to live by, even for myself but if not love at least try to understand those who would want to do you harm.

     So I ask you, as American citizens and people who share this planet with the rest of us, impeach George Walker Bush.  If you would call that a victory for the terrorists, so be it but I would call it a small step towards sanity.  And for those Americans (George being one of you) who profess they live by the Book... take those words spoken by your Lord to heart, "Love your enemies", for that would truly be the most courageous act.

Thank you and good night.

~

† July 10, 2005

My Sisters Story

     I begin this journal entry on a personal note.  The color pencil rendering displayed left is one of my sister Anja when she was young with a full life still ahead of her.  Yesterday, July 9th, would have been her 52nd birthday but that birthday celebration was not to be.  Twenty nine such days have passed for my family and I since she disappeared in January of 1977 at the age of 23.

     The story of her disappearance goes like this.  It's one that I have told numerous times to people who upon viewing "The Medieval Fire" ask about the girl looking into the picture.  But not until now have I wrote it down for people to read.  Shortly after she married and before her 1st anniversary, Anja and her husband made a fateful journey crossing the winter wastelands in a small plane heading to Winnipeg after taking off from the Toronto Island airport.  To this day nothing of my sister, her husband or their single engine Cessna have been seen since.

     The effect upon my family of this tragic event was devastating and that devastation still reverberates to this day.  I recall shortly after it became obvious that something had gone wrong and the Rescue teams had exhausted their searches, going up in a plane with my father and brother to do our own search... but nothing.  Then there were eye, or more accurately, sound witness accounts of people hearing an airplane in trouble during a storm over Georgian Bay followed by the sound of a large splash into the water.  They were still rather vague accounts but my father with this information hired a sonar team to do a search... but nothing.

     So what happened?  It remains to this day a mystery.  The accepted theory is that they went down in the frigid depths in the open waters of Georgian Bay.  But although I can't believe that my sister would knowingly put my parents through a hell unimaginable, I am still left to wonder.  This not knowing for certain has a nagging persistence that leaves the mind in an eternal limbo.  Seeing is believing and within our culture the reason behind open caskets.  Viewing the lifeless corpse at a funeral brings the truth of death home and although it doesn't lessen the pain of loss, at the very least offers some semblance of closure.  In writing this I still wonder if she is out there somewhere able to read this.  To be honest, Anja's husband was of questionable repute and who knows what could have happened, what drama could have unfolded.  We live in an age where the actions of governments are to be held suspect and where people will do things unimaginable by you or I.  People will knowingly fly airplanes into buildings and wage war killing women and children over what... oil, financial gain, revenge, twisted believe systems?  Now I ask you, how crazy is that?  If you ask me, they're all a bunch of psychotics and it seems the innocents are always their victims.

     There are a couple of  reasons why I have chosen this time to include this tragic family tale into my journal.  The first is obvious, it was Anja's birthday yesterday and the other is from watching a Muslim father cry over a daughter who made a fateful trip, July 7 2005, on a London subway.  Scenes of people carrying pictures of friends and loved ones asking anyone if they have seen them brings back my own families loss.  You may not know it from all the raging I usually do in this journal but I do have a heart and certain images and events still cause it to break.  Sometimes it seems that the older I get the more scar tissue wraps around that tired organ leaving a crust that most times is hard to penetrate.  It's a survival mechanism I suppose from watching and experiencing first hand the unconscionable actions humans (and I use the term loosely) are capable of instigating upon other humans in the name of whatever illusion they choose to believe in.

     Take the illusion of freedom for example.  One of the reasons given for why people want to blow up people.  This one is interesting because George blows people up to give them so called freedom and blames the attacks against westerners on the hatred towards our freedom.  If you have watched the news you must have heard it one time or other of how, "they are envious of our western freedoms and free society blah, blah, blah...".  From personal experience living as an artist in this so called free society I've experienced anything but the freedom to express and actually make a living doing it.  There are more ways to silence the dissenters in this free speech, economy driven, society than are obvious on the surface.  In Iraq they simply shut down any media outlet which disagrees with their grand plan.  Easy, over and done, you never hear about it again.  I was personally waiting for Aljazeera to be offered over our satellite service, anything for a different perspective.  And what do we get?  Fox news.  Now there's a different point of view.

     My own experience with this silent censorship is through the gallery system.  Paint a pretty scene, nudes are hot at the moment, wildlife paintings, pseudo spiritual barf or maybe some of that intellectual modern crap which says nothing and that's just the way they want it.  They want stuff that sells not stuff that actually says something, reflecting the artist's experience within the society we find ourselves in.  Keep it safe or obscure and we'll love you.  It has gotten to the point where I can not do it anymore.  As I write this you have to know that I am shooting my art career in the foot if not directly in the head.  But I am a stubborn Dutchman and refuse to bend when it comes to my expression (whether it be art or print) and would sooner put the dog down then watch it suffer through some outside dictatorship.  No compromise, no prisoners.  I personally blame my situation on John and Yoko who said (and I believed them) to be a true artist you have to speak and express your truth.  Easy to say when you have millions to back you up and feed the family.  Of course I'm just kidding, I still believe it and wouldn't forfeit the truth for any amount of dollars.

     A free society.  Freedom to do what?  Freedom to express yourself freely?  Freedom to invade and occupy other nations in the name of freedom?  Freedom to smoke a joint to alleviate the effects of chemo therapy?  Freedom to smoke a joint to alleviate the effects of the society?  Freedom to express your love for another through gay marriage and be recognized as fellow human beings?  Freedom to wage war under false pretense and get away with it?  Freedom of choice?  Freedom to smoke a cigarette free of guilt?  Freedom to pollute the planet with impunity?  Freedom to deny the fact of global warming through human energy consumption?  Freedom to lie, lie, lie and lie again and still get reelected?  Freedom to say enough is enough and be allowed to die with dignity intact?  Freedom to help someone to make the choice of their own death without being sent away never to be heard of again?  Freedom to buy a hand gun at your local Wal-Mart and blow your neighbor away?  Freedom to be yourself and be accepted as such?  This list of freedoms is endless and the contradictions within it say much about our so called free society.  Miss Liberty weeps and the tear stain is there for all to see.  You just have to take a closer look, if you dare.

     One last bit for this entry.  When I heard about Georgie hitting that policeman with his bicycle during the G8 thingy and when the laughing was done, I felt very envious.  Envious in a way that I wished I was that policeman.  For if that was me, I would have sued his ass for reckless endangerment.  Something that all citizens of the world should do for him putting us in the position we are in.

Anja, wherever you are happy 52nd.  I miss you.

~

"Free at last.

Thank God, I'm free at last."

Martin Luther King

(epitaph)

~

† July 7, 2005

     In light of recent world events something must be said.  I turn on the news and the headline reads: "LONDON BOMB BLASTS".  My initial reaction to this information?  Sad to say, not much.  As I've said somewhere in this website, just another day in a world gone completely mad.  Why... it's almost the accepted norm these days, something to be expected.  In fact, I'm surprised days like these are not occurring more often.  Oh... but they are, aren't they?

     Pompous and the Poodle, Bush and Blair respectively.  As I see them stand there, along with the rest of the G8 do nothings, I'm filled with disgust at the level of hypocrisy coming out of Blair's mouth and Bush's stance.  I mean really, who was it that thought it was a good idea a few years back to create change through violent means?  And I mean, VIOLENT!  Violence on a level that Bin Laden can only ever dream of.  How many innocents where crushed under "shock and awe"?  God I hate all those titles they give their various acts of belligerent destruction.

     So here you go Tony, your "forty five minutes" took a little longer then the lie you put forth.  And George, you're right too.  You took the fight to the "terrorists" through your lies of  W.M.D's and all the rest that brought the payment of your actions to the Iraqi people.  No terror attacks on home soil since 911.  It worked for the reelection of (to quote the comic book guy) "The Worst President Ever".  But then I wonder... are the victims of the Madrid and now the London bombings comforted by your reelection slogan?  I highly doubt it.  And what of the Iraqi people, are they comforted?  What's headline news from London, July 7th which takes over the entire broadcast, is just a blip between babble and bullshit on CNN for the Iraqi's.  What happened in London today happens in Iraq almost everyday since "The New Iraq" was created.  So what does that say?  And correct me if I am wrong, but does that not say that Iraqi people are worth less than the rest?

     "You're either with us or against us."  Which in Bush speak means... I'm a terrorist.   Well, despite that profound statement, I know that I am no terrorist and I will say this, if Pompous and Poodle don't feel they hold some responsibility for what happened in London today and will happen somewhere else tomorrow, then I don't know what the future holds.  Except to say, we're in for a rough ride folks because I don't think that introspection is a politician's strong suit.

     New definition of a terrorist:  Anyone who is in the possession of and is willing to use a bomb or bombs for an imagined justified cause.

     I wish they would all just STOP!  Because by the time they are done the world won't be worth living in and the ones who have died will be the lucky ones.  With terrorism on the top of the agenda there is no doubt (despite what they say) that climate change, pollution and poverty will lose any prominence.

Sorry Bob, but thanks for trying.

And we do all have to keep trying. www.one.org

~

† June 5, 2005

     When I began this journal I was hoping to add to it at least monthly but other stuff to do just keeps on piling up faster then I can knock them down.  Even my feelings of disgust with the state of the world in general has taken a back seat to just trying to make a living with this art stuff.  But in my glances at the neutered media I see that people are still getting away with murder, torture and that truth is still number one on the casualty list.  And so it goes.

     Anyway... to the left is an example of what I've been up to lately.  The signs for Art Unseen are up and along with that I have been working in other avenues which have to do with promoting our studio and gallery.  Things like the website Art Unseen, ads in various local publications and whatever else needs attention in that area.

     Now I am at the point where the need to create something new in what I like to call my "real work" is no longer willing to take a back seat.  I can hear it screaming from the back of the bus demanding immediate attention.  So off I go to comfort an old friend and until next time I will have something new to show.

~

† March 11, 2005

     What does it mean to be an artist in the 21st century?

     This question has plagued my creativity on more mornings than I care to remember and this particular morning it has hit me harder than usual.  Perhaps the gut wrenching blow felt this morning is an accumulative effect of countless subtle jabs brought on by outside influence.  Actually, I know that that is the truth of it.  Generally I've noticed in this life experiment, when I remain in isolation I can hold the inner truth of what I am in this life quite comfortably.  It's only when I look outside for what I am that I feel less myself.  A simple truth, but then truth more often than not is just that, simple.  The simple truth, a Universal tenet available to all regardless of intellectual capacity.  Now that is a stroke of genius and the unseen energy which encompasses this imperative is the true creator or artist not only in this century but across time, space and beyond.  The timeless creative energy of the Universe.

    So maybe I and everyone is a part of that Universal creative energy which spans time and space but in the physical local world of 7:24 am on the morning of March 11, 2005 on Jacks Lake Road the question remains, what am I?  Well, along with many other aspects of being human, I consider myself most days to be an artist.  But what does that mean in this 21st century world?  The reflection received, specifically from those who also consider themselves artists, is with few exceptions contrary to my own knowing.  That is to say, being sensitive to my environment as any artist must be and the stickiness of the negative feedback in the form of thoughts, vibes and reactions or lack of, I stumble in my knowledge of self.  Does this exchange of energies with my contemporaries  have to do with something as basic and primitive as competition?  And within that dynamic, am I the one competitive?  This investigation of morning sickness just seems to lead to more questions.

     I've never thought of myself as a highly competitive person.  I mean, sure I'm human and competition seems to be part of humanities make up but I live with an artist and between us never have I experienced separation through being jealous of what the other has created.  But perhaps that is because we both share in the same purse.  So is it when art goes to market that the competition between artists truly begins?  Where financial reward is the measure of success?  Is it in the limited amount of gallery wall space or is it in the mere execution of an original idea when the wayward dance begins between those who feel themselves creative?  I don't know but I used to believe in the community of artists.  These days I tend to shy away from the tribe.

     The 21st century artist where we've gone from cave paintings expressing spiritual and physical experience to shit on a canvas.  I mean that literally, there are or not long ago were two guys in England who painted with human excrement.  As I write this I know that I am not going to find an answer to my question of the morning within this journal entry.  But I do know that between those extremes there have been true artists who have walked among us.  And this leads me to another question, would they survive the 21st century?  For that matter will anyone survive the 21st century?  Along with a documentary about a contemporary artist which sparked my doubtful mind, I watched one last night on genetically modified food which was extremely disturbing.

     G.M. food aside or should that read inside the element of the artist documentary which struck me was when he thought a crystal meth addiction would be a good thing to try.  The ever popular fucked up artist effect.  No longer a natural phenomenon but now, in the 21st century, an orchestrated one.  The lengths people will go these days to be taken seriously as an artist.  This is one which I have never truly understood.  Why is it beneficial for an artist these days to have some sort of mental illness or lethal addiction?

     Enough of this for the day.  Here are some pics of what I've been up to lately.  Painting signs for our studio and gallery Art Unseen.

~

† February 4, 2005

Shows, Fires and Robots

     Keeping in line with the previous journal entry of "continued creative persistence in the face of reward-less efforts", I feel the need to speak about being recently rejected by a local juried art tour.  The Art Gallery of Peterborough's Kawartha Autumn Studio Tour's rejection is not the first and will probably not be the last when people who supposedly "know" decide for the rest of us what constitutes as relevant art.  I personally have been rejected by such notable local art shows as the Toronto Outdoor Art Show and the Buckhorn Wildlife Art Show but this was the first time both Stefanie and I were rejected with separate copies of the same form letter.  Although most people in the world don't know and will probably never have heard of these local pillars of artistic encouragement, they are relevant to me because this is where I live, this is my community.

     I used to get very angry with regard to jury rejections.  For example, the Toronto Outdoor Art Show I protested by nailing one of my Harmonious Convergence prints to a stick and parading around the show wearing a Halloween mask and a Mickey Mouse sweat shirt.  Mandela was still in prison and the lyrics "... free-ee Nelson Mandela ..."  blasted over the radio driving my passion on the way to the big city.  I know my plight didn't and doesn't equal the dilemma of being unjustly incarcerated for year upon year because of skin color but the essence of it still feels the same to me.  In my opinion injustice on all levels needs to be addressed if the world is ever to move to a place of true fairness.

     Another example of blatant unfair jury selection occurred when I applied for the Buckhorn Wildlife Art Show.  In this particular case the first time I applied I was out rightly rejected.  Then, following the completion of Mandala (the piece with 130 or so animals portrayed in the same drawing) I reapplied feeling that now having done a wildlife piece it would make it difficult for the jury to reject me.  I guess I did throw a wrench at their jury because the letter I got back had some very unusual stipulations attached to my being allowed to take part in the show.  Despite the fact that numerous artists (including my own brother who at the time did mostly paintings of his children and Paul Murray who strictly does portraits of people) I was told that only pieces which portrayed wildlife I would be allowed to show.  To this day I wonder if it was not their way of throwing it back at me so that I would react by telling them and their show to take a flying leap off the bridge I was ready to light ablaze.  Of course this is what I felt like doing but I gave it some thought and decided upon a different route of protest.

     I did the show exhibiting the one drawing I was allowed to display, Mandala.  The fact that I personally was limited in this way while other artists in the show did not have to adhere to such stipulations made for a great conversation starter with the patrons of the show.  Then, on the last day I lit the bridge by bringing and exhibiting a piece I had just finished, Shadow.  Needless to say, I was not invited back the following year as is the usual custom regarding other artists who do this show.

     Speaking of fires, lighting things up and going off topic a bit, I have to tell the story of going to do some shows in Florida.  Amazingly enough I was accepted through a jury process to take part in two shows, one in Sarasota and the other in Boynton Beach.  It would be a long journey and I diligently worked with great care in putting together a trailer holding all my work to that date.  Somewhere around Columbus Ohio with the Chevette working overtime I happened to look to the car which was traveling along side me.  What I saw was the occupants of the car looking my way with fear etched on their faces, waving franticly that something was seriously wrong with my rig.  First thought... what... I have a flat or something?

     I pulled over to the side of the interstate and sauntering back I noticed flames coming out of the front of the trailer which held all my life's work.  A controlled panic set in, not unlike the kind which mothers and fathers enter when their children are in mortal danger.  All I could think of was my work and that I had to save it.  Harmonious Convergence (which took three years of my life to complete) was just one of the works about to go up in smoke.  Opening the rear door of the trailer the fire was fed what it wanted, oxygen.  A fire ball ensued but paying little notice I grabbed pieces of art (which were luckily stored in the rear of the trailer) and began throwing them in the ditch in a hail of broken glass.  With all the work saved I took notice that the car (which I had just filled with gas) was still attached to this nightmare come to life.  With flame licking my hair a divine wind came blowing the flames back allowing me time to safely disengage the trailer hitch and move the car out of danger.  Finally all that was left to do was take pictures and watch the trailer and what was left in it burn.

     So there I was on the side of an Ohio interstate being looked at by paramedics while the fire trucks put out what was left of my trailer.  With the aid of compassionate and caring Americans (and yes we in the rest of the world must remember these days that at least 50% of Americans don't tow the hard ass Bush line) I made the decision to continue on my journey despite the circumstances.  One such Ohioan offered to let me store what was left of the trailer next to his trailer park home and I could pick it up on my return trip.  Even after being harassed by the owner of the trailer park for storing such an eye sore it was there when I returned.  I wish I could have given him more in return for his gracious kindness.  Also the show coordinators after hearing of my harrowing journey went out of their way to be of help.  But the people who I have to thank the most and who where there from beginning to end, where my parents.  You see, my parents upon hearing of my plan decided it might be a good idea to accompany me on the trip and in light of the disastrous events which transpired I thank the Great Spirit and all the rest for their wisdom.

     So that was then and this is now and the continued obstacles persist in my attempts to bring my work into the public eye.  But you know, that fire didn't stop me and I will be damned if I let the middlers of such pompous go betweens as the Art Gallery of Peterborough effect me in any other way than to forge forward.  Having suffered through countless such escapades and noting the way today's world lavishes accolades and rewards upon the undeserved I'm beginning to count the rejections as badges of honor.  And that fire?  Well, it was no purple heart but I feel like I do deserve some sort of award for having been wounded in the heat of battle.

     I mean really, who are these people who feel it is their duty to protect the public from what they deem as art unworthy of existence?  When you take away all the "Dear Petrus's", "unfortunatelys" and lame excuses contained in their rejection letters what they're truly saying is, you're not worthy.  Well you know I wish that they had been around when that nursery school teacher in Holland told my parents I should be an artist.  It came naturally to me from the day I was born and all through school when an artist's touch was needed I was the one they called.  Sure, I don't have the list of posthumous art schooling or gallery showings to fill a "curriculum vitae" with what amounts to art babble but hey, I've done the work.  And in spite of it all I will continue to do the work.  After spending most of my life in the pursuit and practice of artistic expression it's a little late to give it up... although there have been days.

     One other point before I take this monkey of my back.  When Stefanie applied to this particular tour event one of the stipulations was that no printed materials (such as lithographs and giclẽes) would be allowed on display for sale.  For the life of me I have no idea what this stipulation or artsy aversion is supposed to do other than handcuff artists such as myself.  Sure, no reproductions works fine for those who slap paint on a canvas and call it art after banging one out every half hour.  But as for artists such as myself who create through timeless patience the end result of only one representation of a piece is not an option.  I believe that this kind of archaic mind set within the visual art field has contributed to bad art.  Bad art that has intellectually divorced itself from the human race and gives nothing of value to the people it is supposed to serve.  Just imagine if these conditions were put on other art forms such as film or literature and how ridiculous it would be.  A director limited to only the original copy of a film and a writer limited to the production of only one hand written manuscript.  Films would be the length and depth of commercials and novels... well, they just wouldn't exist.  Because in these art fields selling books and distributing films is how these artists survive in order to create the next epic or masterpiece.

     Then again, maybe it's like most things in life, just another example of control.  A way for the middle people to justify their existence.  Galleries, churches and governments they're all trying to tell you what's good for you like you couldn't decide for yourself.  God forbid that artists should connect directly with their audience and patrons.  And "God"... well that is the last thing most religions and churches would want one to find within themselves.  It would definitely put a damper on their business ventures.  Then there's freedom, a word used and abused by the latest so called leader of the free world.  The last thing this government wants is for the people to actually be and feel free.  Tell me this, if a people should hold an election in effect creating for itself a free democracy and sovereign nation, should the time of occupation by foreign forces not be determined by the people who voted?  But before the official count from the Iraq election was even in... George, Donald and Iyad Allawi had already decided what would be good for "Iraqi Freedom".  Of course they are going to stay, because it's not about setting people free, it's about the god damn oil to which they want the whole world to remain addicted for as long as possible.  That's freedom for you.  Or at least it is when the word comes out of the mouth of one such as George Bush.

     Occupation and control, seems to be what this journal entry has boiled down to. Want another example?  How about those little locked and loaded robots warriors they now have running around Iraq.  I'm almost certain that I have seen this scenario in countless si-fi films where it was generally portrayed as a bad idea.  Remove the human element from the killing.  Of course that is where the evolution of sanitized warfare has been heading since Erg put down his club and instead threw a stone at Zog, but for some reason, these robot soldiers bring it to a new level.  Imagine... a war without personal consequence.  A war where the human cost in casualties and flag draped coffins would not bring to light to the people who's government has waged it, the brutal truth of it.  The only damage would be collateral and who really counts that?  No civilian body counts for people like General Tommy Franks, that's for sure.  Purple Hearts would be a thing of the past, imagine that.  I'm almost certain that that is exactly what they are doing at the Pentagon.

Thou shalt not kill.

I've heard that the Buddhist's say a prayer when they walk.  For by taking steps they may kill something.

~

† January 18, 2005

     I feel that it is time to get off the Bush train for a moment.  Enough about George until he and his cronies pull another bonehead move like invading Iran or something in that insane vein.  War with another Middle Eastern Nation, that should make the world a safer place.

     What I have been up to lately is painting a new sign for our Studio and Gallery Art Unseen.  This project takes place in the basement where the steady drone of the fish tank pump blends with the never-ending murmur of my brain.  Basically when the job at hand is a mindless one like jig-sawing out shapes and letters for a sign, my thoughts drift to all sorts of tangents.  One of these tangents of thought is my continued creative persistence in the face of reward-less efforts.  And while continuing on my merry way I happen to look up at this Larson cartoon which has hung in the basement workshop since we moved to our house in Apsley.

     Basically... it says it all and gives me a chuckle while I continue on my seemingly preordained rocky path of artistic endeavors.  

~

† January 5, 2005

     This is what Mr. Powell had to say with regard to the latest human disaster. " I think it does give to the Muslim world and the rest of the world an opportunity to see American generosity, American values in action,".

     But then again...

The victims of the tsunami pay the price of war on Iraq

US and British aid is dwarfed by the billions both spend on slaughter

By George Monbiot / Guardian

     There has never been a moment like it on British television. The Vicar of Dibley, one of our gentler sitcoms, was bouncing along with its usual bonhomie on New Year's Day when it suddenly hit us with a scene from another world. Two young African children were sobbing and trying to comfort each other after their mother had died of Aids. How on earth, I wondered, would the show make us laugh after that? It made no attempt to do so. One by one the characters, famous for their parochial boorishness, stood in front of the camera wearing the white armbands which signaled their support for the Make Poverty History campaign. You would have to have been hewn from stone not to cry.

     The timing was perfect. In my local Oxfam shop last week, people were queuing to the door to pledge money for the tsunami fund. A pub on the other side of town raised £1,000 on Saturday night. In the pot on the counter of the local newsagent's there must be nearly £100. The woman who runs the bakery told me about the homeless man she had seen, who emptied his pockets in the bank, saying "I just want to do my bit", while the whole queue tried not to cry.

     Over the past few months, reviewing the complete lack of public interest in what is happening in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the failure, in the west, to mobilise effective protests against the continuing atrocities in Iraq, I had begun to wonder whether we had lost our ability to stand in other people's shoes. I have now stopped wondering. The response to the tsunami shows that, however we might seek to suppress it, we cannot destroy our capacity for empathy.

     But one obvious question recurs. Why must the relief of suffering, in this unprecedentedly prosperous world, rely on the whims of citizens and the appeals of pop stars and comedians? Why, when extreme poverty could be made history with a minor redeployment of public finances, must the poor world still wait for homeless people in the rich world to empty their pockets?

     The obvious answer is that governments have other priorities. And the one that leaps to mind is war. If the money they have promised to the victims of the tsunami still falls far short of the amounts required, it is partly because the contingency fund upon which they draw in times of crisis has been spent on blowing people to bits in Iraq.

     The US government has so far pledged $350m to the victims of the tsunami, and the UK government £50m ($96m). The US has spent $148 billion on the Iraq war and the UK £6bn ($11.5bn). The war has been running for 656 days. This means that the money pledged for the tsunami disaster by the United States is the equivalent of one and a half day's spending in Iraq. The money the UK has given equates to five and a half days of our involvement in the war.

     It looks still worse when you compare the cost of the war to the total foreign aid budget. The UK has spent almost twice as much on creating suffering in Iraq as it spends annually on relieving it elsewhere. The United States gives just over $16bn in foreign aid: less than one ninth of the money it has burnt so far in Iraq.

     The figures for war and aid are worth comparing because, when all the other excuses for the invasion of Iraq were stripped away, both governments explained that it was being waged for the good of the Iraqis. Let us, for a moment, take this claim at face value. Let us suppose that the invasion and occupation of Iraq had nothing to do with power, domestic politics or oil, but were, in fact, components of a monumental aid programme. And let us, with reckless generosity, assume that more people in Iraq have gained as a result of this aid programme than lost.

     To justify the war, even under these wildly unsafe assumptions, George Bush and Tony Blair would have to show that the money they spent was a cost-efficient means of relieving human suffering. As it was sufficient to have made a measurable improvement in the lives of all the 2.8 billion people living in absolute poverty, and as there are only 25 million people in Iraq, this is simply not possible. Even if you ignore every other issue - such as the trifling matter of mass killing - the opportunity costs of the Iraq war categorise it as a humanitarian disaster. Indeed, such calculations suggest that, on cost grounds alone, a humanitarian war is a contradiction in terms.

     But our leaders appear to have lost the ability to distinguish between helping people and killing them. The tone of Blair's New Year message was almost identical to that of his tear-jerking insistence that we understand the Iraqi people must be bombed for their own good. The US marines who have now been dispatched to Sri Lanka to help the rescue operation were, just a few weeks ago, murdering the civilians (for this, remember, is an illegal war), smashing the homes and evicting the entire population of the Iraqi city of Falluja.

     Even within the official aid budgets the two aims are confused: $8.9bn of the aid money the US spends is used for military assistance, anti-drugs operations, counter-terrorism and the Iraq relief and reconstruction fund (otherwise known as the Halliburton benevolent trust). For Bush and Blair, the tsunami relief operation and the Iraq war are both episodes in the same narrative of salvation. The civilised world rides out to rescue foreigners from their darkness.

     While they spend the money we gave them to relieve suffering on slaughtering the poor, the world must rely for disaster relief on the homeless man emptying his pockets. If our leaders were as generous in helping people as they are in killing them, no one would ever go hungry.

     You can join the campaign against global poverty at: www.makepovertyhistory.org

~

     I couldn't have said it better myself, except to say: Bush must secretly thank his god for a disaster which has all but wiped his manmade one off the media map.

~

† December 20, 2004

     There seems to be no end to this bizarre string of accolades rewarding those for a job not well done.  What can you say?  Time's man of the year and an "American Revolutionary" to boot.  Now it is starting to get hard to believe.

     I know that if this issue of Time ever made it to my kitchen table I would not be able to resist adding the signature stash.  I would hazard to guess that not since Hitler has a man been despised by the worlds population more than Bush.

Welcome to my kitchen table.

This one's for you Glen.

~

† December 16, 2004

     In keeping with the awards theme of my last journal entry, my theory of the undeserved reaping the rewards of posthumous awards once again reared its ugly head.  I found it difficult to watch but not hard to believe when I saw Bush giving out the Presidential Medal of Freedom to the Three Stooges.  And to be honest, The Three Stooges would have been more deserving of this award, at least they added some laughter to countless childhoods.  The award which has gone out to such notable individuals as Mr. Rogers, Martin Luther King and Mother Teresa was this week awarded to three of the key bunglers in Bush's plan of Iraq.  It must be Christmas at the Whitehouse.

~

† December 7, 2004

     Whoever has the best line of bullshit wins the prize and will be rewarded.  The motto of our age, it seems.

     Being an artist in the so called "modern age", a cynical heart and a bewildered mind is what it has come down to and what I am left with.  I go to bed at night and wake up most mornings wondering how did it get this way?  You see, for most of my life I have thought and was taught by my hard working parents that to work hard and be the best at whatever you do, success will naturally follow.  I truly believed that and it does my heart sadness that through my experience and observations of the world we live in this does not seem to be the case.

     A world turned upside down is the world we now live in.  Why just last night, while watching the BBC I saw that some bloke won a British art prize (the Turner Prize for Art or something like that) and his biggest claim to fame is that he can't draw or paint.  Correct me if I am wrong but isn't that a bit like giving a literary award to an illiterate author?  Along with a good line of bullshit, oxy-morons and idiocy are vast becoming the required tools to any kind of advancement in our age.

     I'm not just subjected to this baffling babble through my masochistic tendency of watching the T.V. news.  No, I'm surrounded by it and it comes right to my door and I even invite it in.  Not long ago my neighbor (who lives and works in the modern art world) came to visit and told me her partner (also a modern artist) had gone to a meeting of some sort where the discussion was over whether craft was a requirement in being an artist.  She told me that some art person (the head of moka, moksha or something like that, some Canadian modern art association) said something to the effect of, "Technical ability is not a requirement in the production of works of art."  Furthermore, that "...it is in the piece and not in the technical execution of a piece where its relevance lies."  My response to that was, "Doesn't there have to be some kind of craft and ability thereof required?"  I guess not.  The Irony is, when the significance of my work is judged by people such as this it is generally judged on my technical ability.  Go figure.

     From my perspective, where a writer needs to know how to spell and put at least two words together in order to be considered an author, the only societal relevance of modern art lies in its own reflection.  Which is to say, it reflects our modern society where bullshit is king and the best line thereof wins the prize.  I mean, was it really leadership qualities which won Bush his first term as "leader of the free world"?  And what of the re-election, did he qualify himself as a competent leader through that first term?  If he wasn't a criminal already when running for office in the first election, the lies that constitute branding him a war criminal now, had no effect on the re-electoral outcome.  A world upside down.

     I watched and subjected my sanity to the American electoral process through CNN the BBC and other networks.  What I observed through the whole process was this... the best line of bullshit and the ability to repeat that line across the airwaves as often as possible (until it becomes what is taken as truth) wins the game.  So what Americans are most proud of in their culture, that anyone can become president, is true.  My question is this, should anyone have the ability to become a world leader with the power inherent to that position?  Practically speaking, would you hire a plumber with the inability to join two pipes together?

     The renaissance man is officially dead.  The ability to do all things and to do them well is now frowned upon.  In fact, what we want is the worst person we can find for the job in question.  What we want is... artists who can't draw, writers who can't write, plumbers who can't plumb and leaders who don't know the first thing about leading.  And hell while we're at it why not give them all a prize for their inabilities.  The next time it comes up for evaluation I think the Nobel Peace Prize should be awarded to George W. Bush.

     Do I sound cynical, bitter and angry?  Well... I admit it, I am.  I have worked my craft for over twenty years.  Through the process and focus acquired and required to produce the work, like meditation, it has transported me to altered states of consciousness.  States of consciousness where the obvious becomes apparent despite the perpetual bullshit which is so prevalent within our human society and condition.  In my personal experience as an artist working the craft and using it to say something relevant feed each other.

     You know it's not that I expect some kind of artistic award for what I do.  What would suffice, is some kind of reward in order to continue doing what I do best.  That's all, just the financial ability to continue to draw and paint.  But in an upside down world I'm not sure if the hard work ethic which was handed me by my parents is something I wish to pass on to my daughter.  At the rate the world is turning, the hard work ethic is starting to sound like the biggest bullshit line of all.

~

† November 30, 2004

     The morning of November 30, 2004 and where I feel I should be is somewhere on Highway 7 heading East for Ottawa.  You see, everyone's favorite world leader is paying a visit to Canada.  That's right, Bush at this moment is closer to my location on the planet then he has ever been and instead of being on my way to protest his presence, I am left to file my protest here, in writing.  On pavement or in writing, protesting the presence of Bush as a disturbing influence upon this planet is something I have wanted to do for quite sometime.  I feel that it is my duty as an artist and citizen of the world to do what it is I can to bring some sense of balance to a world that through the general media has drifted unfettered to a state of collective resignation of sorts.  You know most talk the talk of Bush bash (save the fundamentalist christians among us) but who is really ready and willing to put their foot down to the pavement in protest.  In my own experience, when I bring my view of what I see happening and what we might do to change it into the picture, I generally get a sense of subjection reflected back.  It's like we feel powerlessness to change our global situation.  So we pull back into our rabbit holes and I hear reactions like, "you have to act locally", when I bring my global concerns into the conversation.  Or, "you don't want to do that", when I mentioned I would like to go to Ottawa to protest.  Hell, when I found the Canadian protest website Nowar-paix through Michael Moore's site I wanted to make it a protest trip for the whole family.  I wanted  to show my daughter first hand what it means to be an instrument of change.

     My four year old daughter's first reaction when I told her what I wanted us to do was, regrettably, fear.  She not only didn't want to go with me to protest George Bush but she was even afraid of my going alone.  You see, somewhere in our attempts to explain to her who Bush is and why her parents react strongly when his smugness graces our T.V. screen she got it into her head that George Bush kills people.  In her mind she thought that if I went, George Bush would shoot me and if we went, he would kill us all.

     With the way the media has a tendency to numb the grown population into apathetically induced subservience I try to protect my daughter as little as possible from the onslaught of its half truths.  Now you might ask, "why would I want to subject her to that?"  Well, here's my reasoning.  First of all, she is going to have to live in this world with all its trappings (if all goes to plan) longer than I do.  Chances that she is going to choose to live a life of isolation living off the land in Nunavut without a satellite connection are slim.  Secondly, even if she chose to live in a community isolated from the media onslaught somewhere in Northern Canada the global effects of mismanagement by world leaders in distant places she will never escape. The ice is melting and one way or another she needs to be informed.

     Was she informed or misinformed with my help?  Well like disseminating the news media and its various slants, it all depends on where you look at it from.  In a way what she thought was correct.  George Bush does kill people.  Directly or indirectly, what's the difference?  Personally, I hold him, his administration and all who support him responsible for every death in Iraq.  Whether it is death by strategic strikes, carpet bombings, bullets, beheadings or suicide car bombs they are all a direct cause of this invasion.  Be they Iraqi civilians,  soldiers, insurgents, Spanish rail commuters, contractors or aid workers every death is in direct cause of this invasion.  If some of the estimated body counts in this war are correct, then at this rate Mr. Bush must be matching if not exceeding the daily body count set by Mr. Hussein himself.

     W.M.D. lies, destabilizing further an already volatile area of the world, pissing off Arabs and Muslims worldwide, pissing off more people than ever (for that matter), inspiring so called terrorists the world over, creating the very enemy they profess to be fighting and killing thousands in the process, you have to ask yourself what is being accomplished?

     Or maybe the question should be, what are they trying to accomplish?

     That's the question I've come to and not until the result of the recent U.S. election did it dawn on me how insane reasoning (or lack there of) led the U.S. and in effect the world into what has the possibility of becoming a holy war of biblical proportions.

     Sometimes I feel stupider than George Bush looks which poses another question.  Is Bush as stupid as he looks or is he fundamentally insane and just playing the part of duffus?  After all it does allow him to play the intellectual elite put down card quite effectively.  And to think Bush and his people as just stupid is to underestimate their manipulative prowess.

     More questions than answers.  I did straighten out my daughter's misperception concerning how Mr. Bush kills with impunity.  I explained to her that he gets others to do his bidding and that at the moment their sights are set on people who's skin is of a darker shade.

~

† November 3, 2004

"America" picks a winner.

God help us all.

     I now have a better idea of where this journal is going and will dive into it upon the completion of my latest Pencil Drawing entitled "Justice".

~

† May 25, 2004

     At the moment I'm not quite sure where this journal will venture.  There are times when I see and feel I have something to say and other times when my thoughts blend in with the latest media smoke screen.

Donald Rumsfeld & Saddam Hussein

Makes one wonder what deal this handshake was sealing.

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