Dreams and Disturbia

I HAVE always been fascinated by the realm of dreams and psychoanalysis. Dreams are windows to the innermost recesses of our minds, perhaps even our souls and manifest our deepest desires and fears.

Surrealism is a style of art and literature developed principally in the 20th century, stressing the subconscious or nonrational significance of imagery arrived at by automatism or the exploitation of chance effects, unexpected juxtapositions, etc.

A cultural movement that flourished in the mid-1920s, surrealism is best known for visual artworks and writings that featured the element of surprise, unexpected juxtapositions and non sequitur. However, surrealist artist and writers assert that their work is more than anything, an expression for philosophical movement and should be regarded as an artifact.

André Breton, the leader of the surrealist movement, explicitly asserted that surrealism was first and foremost, a revolutionary movement.

One of the notable surrealists of his time, Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dalí i Domenech was acclaimed for his compelling and grotesque images. Born on May 11, 1904 in Figueres, Catalonia in Spain, Dali is a skilled draftsman who was deeply-influenced by the Renaissance masters. Taking after Spanish master painter Diego Velazquez, Dali grew a flamboyant moustache that became his iconic signature.

Salvador Dalí's much-awaited exhibit comes to Los Angeles. "Dalí - Painting and Film," formally opened its doors at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art last October 14 and will run until January 6, 2008. According to LACMA's website, "The exhibit aims to illustrate the cinematic influences and elements that present in Dalí's work as well as the contribution he made to cinema. The exhibition brings together a variety of key pieces from Dalí's oeuvre, incorporating painting, film, photography, sculpture, and texts."

Persistently Popular
Perhaps Dalí's most famous piece de resistance, "The Persistence of Memory," was groundbreaking because of its images of melted clocks. The painting epitomizes Dalí's theory of "softness and hardness," a popular school of thought during his time.

Wikipedia describes the painting as a fundamental part of Dalí's Freudian phase. "The imagery predicts his transition to the scientific phase, which occurred after the decisive dropping of the atom bomb in 1945. The imagery can be read as a graphic illustration of Einstein's theory of Relativity, depicting gravity distorting time.It's possible to recognize a human figure in the middle of the composition, in the strange 'monster' that the same Dalí used in several period pieces: it's a head."

"In general the tree means life, but, in this case, it has the same function as the rest of the elements in the picture: to impress anxiety and, in a certain way, terror, although it is likely that it was conceived as a functional element on which to drape one of the watches. The golden cliffs in the upper right hand corner are reminiscent of Dalí's homeland, Spain, and are derived from the rocks and cliffs at Cape Creus, where the Pyrenees meet the sea. It was there that Dalí and his wife Gala went for solitude."

It is rather uncommon for an artwork of such a small scale to afford colossal fame, but Dali achieves this well-earned recognition. Moma.org states that "Dalí rendered his fantastic visions with meticulous verisimilitude, giving the representations of dreams a tangible and credible appearance. In what he called 'hand painted dream photographs,' hard objects become inexplicably limp, time bends, and metal attracts ants like rotting flesh. The monstrous creature draped across the painting's center resembles the artist's own face in profile; its long eyelashes seem insectlike or even sexual, as does what may or may not be a tongue oozing from its nose like a fat snail."

"The year before this picture was painted, Dali formulated his "paranoiac-critical method," cultivating self-induced psychotic hallucinations in order to create art. "The difference between a madman and me," he said, "is that I am not mad."

"The Persistence of Memory" was completed in 1931 and has been a part of the permanent collection the Museum of Modern Art in New York since 1934. This artful masterpiece is one of the highlights of Dalí's exhibit at the LACMA.

The Dynamic Still
Dalí's juxtaposition of powerful and disturbing images amid an arid and desolate desert makes them even more thought-provoking. His recurring use of shadows and images like ants and human body parts make the scene feel more organic and transitory. Life and death are simultaneously occuring in this display of conception and decay.

"Autumnal Cannibalism" was perhaps the most compelling piece of work that I encountered in the exhibit. The message he wanted to put across had so many truths in it, and the images were truly powerful to make one contemplate on them on a deeper level.

According to Tate.org.uk, "Autumnal Cannibalism" was "painted just after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War in 1936, this work shows a couple locked in a cannibalistic embrace. They are pictured on a table-top, which merges into the earthy tones of a Spanish landscape in the background. The conflict between countrymen is symbolised by the apple balanced on the head of the male figure, which refers to the legend of William Tell, in which a father is forced to shoot at his son."

From Still to Motion
Dalí was also a masterful and visionary filmmaker. He collaborated with the likes of Luis Buñuel, Alfred Hitchcock and Walt Disney and cited Cecil B. De Mille and the Marx Brothers as his foremost influences in filmmaking.

A Spellbinding Peek
"Spellbound," a film collaboration with master of suspense Sir Alfred Hitchcock, was one of the main features of his exhibit. Set designs, scripts and storyboards of the film were prominent attractions at the exhibit.

"Spellbound" was released in 1945 as a psychological mystery thriller. An adaptation by Angus MacPhail and Ben Hecht of the novel "The House of Dr. Edwardes" which was written by Hilary Saint George Saunders (aka Francis Beeding), the film stars Hollywood's finest actors as Gregory Peck, Ingrid Bergman, Michael Chekhov and Leo G. Carroll.

I was especially drawn to the set design of "eyes" looking at different directions and with varied expressions. The backdrop was painted by Dalí himself and was an essential, mind-boggling element in the film.

Alternating Images
Another crowd-drawing attraction was a video clip of Dalí's "Destino," yet another film collaboration, this time with movie great and animation maven, Walt Disney. The film only came into fruition in 2003, years after Dalí's death in 1989. The seamless transition and subtle alternation of images reminds one of how life is constantly ever-changing, that we sometimes overlook the littlest details that evolve around us. It also compels one to ponder on the transient qualities of objects and beings and even life itself.

Dalí's work gives one a different perspective and perception of things, that objects are not always what they seem. This is possibly his way of contrasting his flamboyant, sometimes even comedic-looking disposition with his deep and thought-provoking sensibilities as a well-respected artist. (AJ)

Bliss at Last

NO OTHER WORDS could express that euphoric high.

From Letters to a Young Poet:

It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps one of the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginners in everything, are not yet capable of love: it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, anxious, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. But learning-time is always a long, secluded time, and therefore loving, for a long time ahead and far on into life, is -- solitude, a heightened and deepened kind of aloneness for the person who loves. Loving does not at first mean merging, surrendering, and uniting with another person (for what would a union be of two people who are unclarified, unfinished, and still incoherent?), it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world in himself for the sake of another person, it is a great, demanding claim on him, something that chooses him and calls him to vast distances. Only in this sense, as the task of working on themselves ("to hearken and to hammer day and night"), may young people use the love that is given to them. Merging and surrendering and every kind of communion is not for them ( who must still, for a long, long time, save and gather themselves); it is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.

But this is what young people are so often and so disastrously wrong in doing: they (who by their very nature are impatient) fling themselves at each other when love takes hold of them, they scatter themselves, just as they are, in all their messiness, disorder, bewilderment...And what can happen then? What can life do with this heap of half-broken things that they call their communion and that they would like to call their happiness, if that were possible, and their future? And so each of them loses himself for the sake of the other person, and loses the other, and many others who still wanted to come. And loses the vast distances and possibilities, gives up the approaching and fleeing of gentle, prescient Things in exchange for an unfruitful confusion, out of which nothing more can come; nothing but a bit of disgust, disappointment, and poverty, and the escape into one of the many conventions that have been put up in great numbers like public shelters on this most dangerous road. No area of human experience is so extensively provided with conventions as this one is: there are life-preservers of the most varied invention, boats and water wings; society has been able to create refuges of every sort, for since it preferred to take lovelife as an amusement, it also has to give it an easy form, cheap, safe, and sure, as public amusements are.

Whirlwind or Whirlpool?

SO where did time go?

After all the chaos, everything seems to be back in its rightful place. I never thought transitioning would be this easy and effortless. Things at work seem to be running smoothly, the people who have left have moved on and so have those who were left behind.

Of course, rants and grunts and whining and bitchin' are still very much part of our everyday fare. I guess it's what makes life so challenging and exciting at the same time. But for some unknown reason, I have a positive vibe that things are going to get better from now on. I feel settled and more secure and more confident of the decisions that I've been making lately. But hey, I might be speaking too soon.

Been going out with this guy on a regular basis. Nothing romantic has ensued yet, and even at a snail's pace, it feels like we're making good time just being cool and laid back. I don't know if anything will come out of it, but having a new friend, with a different perspective and perception of things surely makes for a pleasant learning experience.

He is actually a very helpful gauge as to what I've become. I feel much much older now, and I feel that my feet are more grounded this time. There is no compromising what I want out of life -- from my job, from a relationship, from every teeny, tiny aspect of my life. Every atom feels as though its revolving in its perfect little axis, associating and disassociating with every particle at the exact time that it should and shouldn't.

For the first time I don't feel like myself. I don't feel the urge to calculate and analyze everything. Sweet surrender does exist.

Dazed and Confused

I'M NOT KIDDING NOR EXAGGERATING. The past few days have been really a blur for me. It's like someone pressed the fast forward button and never let go.

Moving to a new place. Mass resignations at work. My 30th birthday in San Fran. Reorgs. These are things that can really blow your mind away and make you feel disconcerted, as if you're falling in an endless abyss. Too many changes happening at the same time. It's like everything around me evolved and I was the only one left that didn't. The primeval mass.

And with everything that has happened I am left with more responsibilities. The scariest thing in the world is getting left behind.

The Momentous Reunion

WE were fortunate enough to score tickets for the reunion tour of The Police at the Dodgers Stadium.

When they say top deck they do mean top deck! Heck, that was perhaps the steepest row of seats I've ever encountered in all the concert venues I've been to. I couldn't manage to stand and wave with the crowd! And it was especially irritating that people couldn't sit still the whole time. What is it about the LA crowd? I always have more fun watching concerts in SF. The people from SF are rowdier, cheerier and definitely have more respect for the performing band.

Anyway, I was totally psyched after hearing that Foo Fighters will be playing as one of the front acts. Fiction Plane was an okay band, they just sounded too much like Audioslave. The vocals were definitely inspired by Chris Cornell.

The Police kicked off their performance with a crowd-enthusing performance of "Message In A Bottle." It was all downhill after that...well, up until they performed the last two songs before the encore.

The spoils of the day? An obscenely-priced Dodgers hotdog and a band shirt. Ah well...it's all worth it. :)

I Heart Weng Weng

MY COUSIN sent me a link to Gabe Mercado's blog which featured this music video made by the Chuds as a tribute to the iconic Weng Weng. Months later, I find this interesting review in Spin Magazine's July 2007 issue:

MUST-SEE VIDEOS
The Chuds
"Weng Weng Rap"

Weng Weng was a diminutive Filipino actor and martial artist best known for playing a character named Agent OO in cheapie spy flicks with titles like "For Your Height Only," and this clip provides ample evidence of his legend. The montage of movie scenes is priceless, but the Chuds' cartoonishly enthusiastic rhymes overflow with understated punch lines. Good luck getting the hook out of your head.

Tsk, tsk. And I thought I was the only one. (Weng Weng, I love you my Weng Weng, hold me and kiss me, I love you WENG WENG!)

It's no wonder that my friend Dino had his own share of Weng Weng fanaticism a couple of years ago. Anyway, here's the link if you wanna see the video: (http://gabemercado.multiply.com/video/item/22) .

Turning Thirty-le

THE GRAND THREE-OH. I've never had a clear picture in my head of how it would be like, but this is definitely not the way I sneak-peeked it. Being thirty meant security, a good-paying job, hot car, nice house, lots of idle time to waste on indulgent hobbies....pretty much living life like crazy. At the rate things are going before my 30th year of existence, only one was accurate. C-R-A-Z-Y.

I really have no reason to complain. It's not like someone pulled my hair and dragged me out here to make crazy decisions. But yes, I admit to having made a lot of them these past few years. And I have no rational explanation for my actions. They came along and I picked the ones which I thought were the wisest and soundest at the time that they rolled by. And yes...every decision you make creates a whole chain of reaction and by the time you realize how complex things have become, it's too late to turn back and undo the damage. It's pretty much like entering a wormhole-like cave. You have to crawl forward to get to the other side. There is no other way out once you risk entering the cave.

Life is a complex process, everyone has to go through it. Without risks and complexities you are as good as dead.

Anyway, what's the whole fuckin' point of this blog entry? I HAVE NO DARN CLUE.