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The Symbolic order is a part of the psychoanalytic theory of Jacques Lacan. Although it is an essentially linguistic dimension, Lacan does not simply equate the symbolic with language, since the latter is involved also in the Imaginary and the Real. The symbolic dimension of language is that of the signifier, in which elements have no positive existence but are constituted by virtue of their mutual differences. It is the realm of radical alterity: the Other. The unconscious is the discourse of the Other and thus belongs to the symbolic order. It is also the realm of the Law that regulates desire in the Oedipus complex. The symbolic is both the "pleasure principle" that regulates the distance from das Ding, and the "death drive" which goes beyond the pleasure principle by means of repetition: "the death drive is only the mask of the symbolic order." This register is determinant of subjectivity; for Lacan the symbolic is characterized by the absence of any fixed relations between signifier and signified.
A rare experience of a moment at daybreak, when something in nature seems to reveal all consciousness, cannot be explained at noon. Yet it is part of the day's unity. Charles Ives
Lalla Rookh is the title of a poem by Thomas Moore, published in 1817. The title is taken from the name of the heroine of the frame tale, the daughter of the Mughal emperor, Aurangzeb; engaged to the young king of Bactria, she goes forth to meet him, but her heart is smitten by a poet she meets on the way. The bulk of the poem consists of four interpolated tales supposedly sung by the poet: "The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan," (based upon the story of Al-Muqanna) "Paradise and the Peri," "The Fire-Worshippers," and "The Light of the Harem." As Lalla Rookh enters the palace of her bridegroom she swoons away; but reviving at the sound of a familiar voice, she wakes up with rapture to find that the poet of her affection was none other than the prince to whom she was engaged.
Thomas Moore (1779-1852) Lalla Rookh (excerpt) From The Fire-worshippers 1 "How sweetly," said the trembling maid, 2 Of her own gentle voice afraid, 3 So long had they in silence stood, 4 Looking upon that tranquil flood-- 5 "How sweetly does the moon-beam smile 6 To-night upon yon leafy isle! 7 Oft in my fancy's wanderings, 8 I've wish'd that little isle had wings, 9 And we, within its fairy bow'rs, 10 Were wafted off to seas unknown, 11 Where not a pulse should beat but ours, 12 And we might live, love, die alone! 13 Far from the cruel and the cold,-- 14 Where the bright eyes of angels only 15 Should come around us, to behold 16 A paradise so pure and lonely. 17 Would this be world enough for thee?"-- 18 Playful she turn'd, that he might see 19 The passing smile her cheek put on; 20 But when she mark'd how mournfully 21 His eyes met hers, that smile was gone; 22 And, bursting into heart-felt tears, 23 "Yes, yes," she cried, "my hourly fears 24 My dreams have boded all too right-- 25 We part--for ever part--to-night! 26 I knew, I knew it could not last-- 27' Twas bright, 'twas heav'nly, but 'tis past! 28 Oh! ever thus, from childhood's hour, 29 I've seen my fondest hopes decay; 30 I never lov'd a tree or flow'r, 31 But 'twas the first to fade away. 32 I never nurs'd a dear gazelle 33 To glad me with its soft black eye, 34 But when it came to know me well 35 And love me, it was sure to die! 36 Now too--the joy most like divine 37 Of all I ever dreamt or knew, 38 To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine,-- 39 Oh misery! must I lose that too? 40 Yet go--on peril's brink we meet;-- 41 Those frightful rocks--that treach'rous sea-- 42 No, never come again--though sweet, 43 Though heav'n, it may be death to thee. 44 Farewell--and blessings on thy way, 45 Where'er thou goest, beloved stranger! 46 Better to sit and watch that ray, 47 And think thee safe, though far away, 48 Than have thee near me, and in danger!"
I enjoy buying old books at auctions, thrift stores and yard sales. I pick up a lot of library discards and I am fascinated by the the notes and stamps on the pages and the card pockets. They tell a story about the life of the book. Sometimes I find notes on the pages and occasionally a scrap of paper tucked into the pages. These ephemeral items are ghosts of past owners and readers.
I scan my found treasures and manipulate them with photo software to try and uncover its past.
This is one of a series of small drawings I made during my recovery from heart surgery. I has been two months since the surgery and my health has improved dramatically. My art work played a very important role in my recovery. Art has always help me get through the tough times.
I produced a series of 18 cards. Card 001 was sent to a mail art exhibition. The remaining 17 card series is available for purchase. If you purchase the series, you have the publication rights to print and sell the cards. The price for the series is $100.00. Payment by PayPal only. Offer expires November 30, 2008. Please email for information and availability.risom@charter.net
Flowers have been irresistible to painters through the ages. These days we've lost much of the symbolism associated with them, but earlier painters chose flowers to convey very specific messages about their subjects.
Biomorphic consciousness is developed through the ritual of breaking open the four corners of a rectangular design. Biomorphic consciousness in which freedom, symbolized by open-ended growth systems – spirals and branches – liberates us from enslavement in narrow-minded thought embodied in a closed rectangular form. There is a conceptual confluence between the development of biomorphic consciousness and the creation of contemporary artworks exploring biological and digital systems. Spiral and branching growth patterns are linked as a metaphor for a human being.
Fibonacci Numbers
Infrared landscape...
Ink drawing scanned and colored with Corel paint
Infrared light lies between the visible and microwave portions of the electromagnetic spectrum. Infrared light has a range of wavelengths, just like visible light has wavelengths that range from red light to violet.
The main purpose of life is to live rightly, think rightly, act rightly. The soul must languish when we give all our thought to the body. Mohandas Gandhi
Don't get involved in partial problems, but always take flight to where there is a free view over the whole single great problem, even if this view is still not a clear one. Ludwig Wittgenstein
Asemic fluxism is an attitude. It is not a movement or a style.
Asemic fluxism uses scans or photographs of found objects, images, and texts to create new images, and texts.
Asemic fluxism works are simple. The art is small, the texts are short.
Scanned and altered found object images:
Cigar box lid series
An essential aspect of my work is the connection of my work to the world. The internet has allowed me the oportunity to find very esoteric connections. In particular. the asemic and fluxus movements have provided me with many hours of reading and research.
Today's world is highly competitive. The way to survive is to change. Resistance to change is a dead-end street. - the hell with it! I like my hutch the way it is! Jean-Paul Bunny
Always remember that the future comes one day at a time. Dean Acheson
Life belongs to the living, and he who lives must be prepared for changes. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Things do not change; we change. Henry David Thoreau
He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery. Harold Wilson
Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine. Robert C. Gallagher
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. Anatole France
A wino asked me for change... I gave him my shirt. Steven Wright
The slave is doomed to worship time and fate and death, because they are greater than anything he finds in himself, and because all his thoughts are of things which they devour. Bertrand Russell
This is just a brief update regarding my "The end is near" post. I still feel the tug of the internet black hole but the event horizon is still not in view. Recent personal problems reached critical mass and steps were taken to ameliorate the situation. With a concentrated effort, I should be able to put off the inevitable fate of blogs for a few more years. I will keep you posted.
Jean-Paul Bunny says: "You can't make chicken salad out of chicken feathers but you can make a hat if you have felt or straw ."
