The Fantastic James

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Sunday, 22 January 2012

Galaxy Song lyrics
Songwriters: Idle, Eric; Jones, Trevor;

Whenever life gets you down, Mrs.Brown
And things seem hard or tough
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
And you feel that you've had quite enough

Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour
That's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned
A sun that is the source of all our power

The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour
Of the galaxy we call the 'milky way'

Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick
But out by us, it's just three thousand light years wide

We're thirty thousand light years from galactic central point
We go 'round every two hundred million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe

The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, the speed of light, you know
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is

So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth

Friday, 14 October 2011

Corridor


Corridor
Glide along the corridor
Straight edge and hardline
Sharp left into the light
Honeyhaze against whitewashed walls
Look out to cold weather beaten blocks of concrete reflecting
back at us, ourselves.

Am I mad because I love that?

I'm buying everything today, I'll buy it all, every concept, thought, idea, picture and frame it.
Whatever you are selling, I'll give you something for it.
Everything must go.
So
Whatever the tune, however discordant the sound, if the timing is right we can all sing a long.

Bristling with our shared madness. Love and acceptance is the only sanity, I want to say to the doctor, all else is madness.

Moving on, I drift through the hazy maze.
Uniformity, conformity, stability, hard, cold, firm and smooth, loud and silent.
Running the tips of my fingers over these textures, the light is warm over these lonely surfaces.
Reminding me of a freezing cold, crystal clear winters morning.
All I'm wanting now is my ideal familiar Heaven. A cup of tea preferably in a glass mug, a supply of rollies with menthol tips and someone to talk too. Is what I want for complete satisfaction of my soul.

Across white plastic tables sitting on uncomfortable chairs, flowers grow.
Appropriate attitudes sterilize the air.
Spilt tea on slippery floors mean that
The drinking of Tea confided to one room and the smoking of Fags to another room.
Never the twain shall meet.

Our two holy pleasures like man and wife teared asunder, separated unnaturally.
Why did none of us think to take in a flask????

"You can separate our tea from our fags, but you can never take our..........

Can't actually end that sentence, thats all I got, thats all I want and you to talk too.

My wish
Please don't segregate




Saturday, 17 September 2011

Monday, 4 April 2011

Spirituality and Psychosis

Just wanted to add. Theres a spiritual idea that life is like a school, we learn and experience it in order to develop and grow in many ways, including spiritually. Although everything could be thought of as spiritual, for its value to teach us. Good and bad, Yin and Yang. So I think Psychosis in my experience whether delusions, moods etc. are real is not important to me.
Its what they lead me to understand about life. I think experiencing the extremes of human nature of the mind, and surviving that, leaves the person with a greater understanding about human nature. Which is what most research like the arts, medicine, religion etc are striving to understand. Not to say you can know everything.

It used to be said that mad people are touched by God. I defiantly think it can be a gift. Although it is very difficult to come through the long dark night of the soul.
There are so many stories about struggling through adversity and becoming a better and greater person for it.
I spoke to a psychiatrist about spirituality and they don't like that word, too floopy for an academic. I think we tend to see a division between life and spiritual ideas, concepts and realms, like consciousness as separate state of being, but I think thats just the higher levels of the same reality. The mundane, lonely, adverse conditions of life are just as relevant to the higher states. Night and Day.

Our existence and experiences on a daily level and the struggle we have with it, is the spiritual journey we're on. Psychosis is an extreme existential challenge, that draws on all our inner and outer resources to cope.

" A smooth sea does not a good mariner make"

I think its true a spirituality or mastery over the self is achieved by people not only with psychosis or other mental illness, but anyone who has suffered adversity.

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

patterns of love



This is part of an installation and represents contact, physical and emotional through touch.

“If you want to go fast,” says an African proverb, “go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

Tiger tiger burning bright (drawings done while in hospital)


















































When I made these drawings I believe I was on top form. Very connected to Life the Universe and Everything.

Miss that level of consciousness so much its such a loss. Anyway back to the hoovering.

Supported by each other

I discovered this quote about homelessness. I like that support is needed by everyone without each other where would we be? homeless probably.

"For the vast majority of people in our society the family -parents and siblings as well as extended family members -is the first bulwark against need. Family members are the first people to whom people turn if they need money, if they fall ill, or if they need emotional support. Many single homeless people are still in touch with their families. For pragmatic as well as emotional reasons it is in every ones interest to strengthen those contacts and ties if possible."
Lemos G. (1999) A Future Foretold. Crisis

Constellation:
Saturn is sat deep on his sofa, Enriching black hugs him, Flecks sparkle over the surface of his cold jumper as he reaches for light.
As deeply blue Neptune, worried she is invisible to the naked eye, sits comfortably in the void.
Armstrong smiles at her from the wall.






Friday, 13 August 2010

Wednesday, 3 March 2010

shoes












I made these shoes from newspapers and magazines. I displayed them on the floor to represent invisability and isolation in a crowd.

Sunday, 20 September 2009


Final MA Show 09












“If love is a drug then I guess we’re all sober “

Nerina Pallot - singer


Dory has focused on the ‘outsider’ in society. Especially those with mental illnesses and the homeless A definition of an outsider is a person outside a specific group. This theme has proved to be problematic, the boundaries between who is in and who is out in society are blurred. Depending on the contexts and circumstances anyone can be an outsider.
Dory has extended her practice to be more inclusive of the wider society this way she hope that the viewer could relate to those who have mental health difficulties or distress. These distinctions for her are becoming blurred, anyone can experience distress, depression, grief etc. as well as feeling isolated in society. I feel the examination of the theme of isolation is a reflection of her own experiences.
Dory have chosen to use the word neglected or overlooked to describe people, she wishes to use as a subject. She has used plastic bags as a visual metaphor a throw away product. To state that some people are thrown away by society. The obvious group of people is the homeless.
Throughout this course she has wanted to elevate or celebrate neglected people. To re dress the power relationship between the powerless and those with status.
Because there are not really defined distinctions on who is an outsider and who is mad she has directed her investigation from the neglected persons point of view. In order to create links and interactions between groups of people and the viewer, more than the usual giving charity or avoiding the person but an equality and recognition of a person rather than just a victim of circumstance.















these portraits are from figures from this installation they represent a cross section of society. I wanted there to be relationships between these figures.






























































































This is a drawing of a homeless figure sleeping on the floor. It references pavement artists and the colourful chalks I used to draw the figures in the crowd on the wall, or passers-by. This is to connect them with figure on the floor I wanted this to be understood that we are all human and this can happen to anyone. The image below is a hat made out of magazines and newspaper. I had put in a little bit of money in it at the opening night show people had added to it and some was taken or stolen we think by children
















This part of my show was a room in the back of my original space that was used for storage and is also an office I liked this space because it is neglected and overlooked like the people I am representing. I covered as much space as I could with colourful children's stickers to celebrate the space and so you can also see what is behind them. Artists have wrapped and covered rooms I wanted the room to still be visible. The space could be acessed through my priginal space.


















Saturday, 4 July 2009

New Exhibitions


I am taking part in two exhibitions as part of an MA group

Our group name is Os Nove which means The Nine in Portuguese Vanda who is part of our group suggested this name and is herself from Portugual.

Please click onto our group site for more information.

Thursday, 26 March 2009

Save the Vulcan Pub


The Vulcan is a Victorian pub built in 1853 and is due to be knocked down in june 2009.

There is not much of old Cardiff left due to new developments. Please sign the petition to save the Vulcan at this blog;

http://www.save-the-vulcan.blogspot.com/



Saturday, 21 March 2009

Where are you between? Atruim show 2009

I have been involved in a show at the Atrium entitled Where are you between? translated from the Welsh Blerwytirhwng? the subtitle is Nine artists interventions.


The brochure introduces the exhibition as follows:

The nine exhibiting artists, all masters students on the MA Art Practice Course at the University of Glamorgan seek to infiltrate the tempo of the Atrium foyer space through their work by making site specific interventions rather than traditional, discrete artwork. Our society, as a whole, is dependent and adept at 'reading' visual images of a persuasive, entertaining or instructional nature. This exhibition aims at being provocative, celebratory, subversive and enabling through visual means. The central question raised by the work on show is identity, that is to what or whom do we owe allegiance as individuals, groups or society? Where would we place ourselves when forced to take a stand? Who should we believe and how is the past evident in the present?

The Atrium space for all its clean architectural form is the opposite of the 'white cube' sanctified to display art; the functionality and business of the space at ground level is positively hostile to the contemplation of a painting or sculpture, the cavernous height might easily dwarf any artifact of modest scale. The challenges and constraints of the building have been positively embraced for the creative impetus they provide. While some of the work is more immediately visible, other pieces are deliberately incidental, quietly making their mark.

This is how I described my work in the brochure. Please see MA Fine Art website www.glamasters.wordpress.com


Title: if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. Corinthians 13

Isobel draws parallels to a now changing throw away culture with the treatment of outcasts or marginalized people, such as the mentally ill or homeless. She sees people in these groups as excluded from society. Rather than eliciting pity or charitable attitudes she wishes to place these people in a position of power and authority redressing this imbalance.

Thursday, 5 February 2009

Invisible man

I've made these images to represent the mental ill as invisible to society and a loss of identity.








Friday, 23 January 2009

Dissertation Arrrh! Its that time of year

I'm writing a dissertation. Not too confident about but I finally have the title with the help of my tutor.

The title is: Madness and the loss of identity has been a reaccuring theme in Western Art and the Modern Period. How has it been documented, represented and invented in relation to woman, her otherness and The Other and can the manner of depiction and the contexts of looking and viewing alter preconceptions and open up possibilities for identification and emphathy.

Phew! I have created a list of texts and images I am looking at in order to investigate my question.

Basically I have to look at how representations of madness have been:
  • Documented
  • Re-presented- madness presented by the artist or author.
  • Invented- examining how the artist/author has constructed madness in an image.

Then examine examples of these three categories through methodologies and theories for example through authors Jacques Lacan and Michel Foucault.

Thursday, 22 January 2009

Thursday, 27 November 2008

Delusions

I am working on ideas that relate to the experience of having delusions. Which can be very frightening, illuminating, exciting and in general confounding.



I am also writing my dissertation on the representations of madness. Heres an image of the sort of idea I am working on.






A story about delusions

Here is a story about the experience of having a delusion. I have changed tack again and want to explore delusional experiences instead of portraits because I think representing the mentally through their physionomy alone is inappropiate and cliched.




Tony


It was a cold night like any other. I didn’t feel cold walking past the infirmary, because I was kept warm, by light of 6 billion brilliant flames, burning from every soul on the planet.
Jesus Christ was taking me to the Borough, for a drink. Would you believe he was in disguise as my friend Tony all along, I was amazed too, but it all made perfect sense.
He had a goatee and long hair.
As we walked along the street, he occasionally looked up, he was showing me all the things that belonged to me, from the buildings, to the stars, burning in honour of me. He didn’t say anything and we carried on walking. As the cars drove past, he looked at them now and then, this was to indicate which were carrying people I new in past lives. He looked really cold, but I knew this was another lesson, he was symbolically showing me the suffering I had gone through, to get to this point of realisation.
The air was so sharp and thick with magnificence, time had stopped. He was slowing down and rummaging in his pockets, ‘oh my God’ I think he is going to pull out an engagement ring, Jesus was going to make me divine officially. It was a cigarette, he put it in his mouth and produced a blue swan lighter. I realised this meant I was Mary, the colour blue made this true and the flame was everlasting light ‘AMAZING’ he draws in the smoke deeply, he was actually drawing in my very essence into his being, this meant we were married. WOW!
The world the Universe, everyone and everything in it was now mine, I was their Queen. I wondered with great anticipation what was waiting for me at the pub, some kind of
engagement party and coronation.
As we walked we stepped in unison and I linked my arm with his. We entered Queen Street, of course it was actually a promenade for this occasion. The pub was quite full with people all waiting for me, everyone turned to look at me as we entered.
Jesus went to bar and got the drinks, two pints of lager. The lager was actually gold and I took a sip, Jesus had a big mouthful, I clinked his glass in celebration. I smiled from ear to ear. My mind expanded and fragmented into billions points of light, I thought I might shatter.
Jesus went to the jukebox, he put some songs on that were written in my honour. ‘Insane in the membrane’ came on and a glass smashed behind the bar, everyone started cheering sarcastically, ‘Oh my God’, it’s a trick, a set up, my blood ran ice cold, the world actually hated and detested me, ‘IT WAS A BIG JOKE.’ I started to notice people laughing at me, terror set in, I looked at Jesus ‘OH NO’ he’s not Jesus, he’s the devil, the ‘goatee’. I looked into his eyes, they were, green and pin pricks. The drink is urine, I was in real trouble beyond measure. The muscles in my bottom started to contract, my heart was beating like a mouse and my stomach churned. I went to toilet and was sick. I came back, he was watching every move, as I sat down very slowly, his hand reached for mine. I felt freezing cold skin penetrate mine, I wanted to scream. I sipped my drink and became a bit more relaxed.
The epic adventures continued until medication stopped them. Now Tony is no longer Jesus, or the devil, although he still bears a resemblance, he is just a man and a good friend and I am just a person like any other.
On the one hand, I grateful that the medication takes away the terror, but I miss the connection I had with the universe and the world.

Saturday, 8 November 2008





I am working on a project with portraits. I am hoping to depict the subjects inner imaginative life by placing them out of context








Saturday, 19 July 2008

Drawing of John Lennon



I've been practicing drawing portraits as I am going to try and focus on them for next term.

So I have been drawing alot of different faces I think this was the best of the famous faces I've been drawing.

I thought of looking at faces across the board from both sides of the social spectrum.

Friday, 6 June 2008

Thursday, 5 June 2008

What have been the changing roles and representations of the fool in art?

This was the title of my essay. Here are some extracts and images from this essay.





Introduction

What is the definition of a fool? The Collins dictionary defines the fool as 1. Silly, empty-headed person 2. Dupe 3. Simpleton or 4. Jester, clown. The fool is a rich and complex archetype and draws on all these definitions. This label, like the sign in semiology has many variations and lives in the collective imagination or unconscious.
One variation of this title is the fool as a symbol, used to represent the follies of mankind.










To conclude and to sum up the role of jester, I have drawn on the following quote;
JESTER, An officer formerly attached to a king's household, whose business it was to amuse the court by ludicrous actions and utterances, the absurdity being attested by his motley costume. The king himself being attired with dignity, it took the world some centuries to discover that his own conduct and decrees were sufficiently ridiculous for the amusement not only of his court but of all mankind. The jester was commonly called a fool, but the poets and romancers have ever delighted to represent him as a singularly wise and witty person. In the circus of to-day the melancholy ghost of the court fool effects the dejection of humbler audiences with the same jests wherewith in life he gloomed the marble hall, panged the patrician sense of humour and tapped the tank of royal tears“.-Ambrose Bierce, Devil's Dictionary quotes
To discover what are the changing roles and representations of the fool in art I have looked at the following artists and examples of their work The Ship of Fools by Bosch The dwarf Sebastian De Morra by Velázquez, Beggarman, blind man, thief by Donovan, Liberty brothers permanent daily circus by Charles, these five images ranging from the 15th century to the present day. Examining the fools costume and it’s symbolism in images, that has developed from a contemporary dress in the 15th century of the fool performer in art, to its historical referencing in contemporary art. Also the fools depiction in images as a symbol for the follies of mankind, drawn on by artists from the popular satire of immorality from the poem; Das Narrenschiff. The historical, religious and political context of the fool is his place in the hierarchy of the court structure and his outsider status. The categories of fool are innocent, clever, trickster and performer personalities, all these categories add to the rich symbolism and associations we have of the fool. Artworks reference the fool as a character with qualities associated with the various types. The fool archetype seems to belong to the male gender and raises the question, Why are women not associated with the fool character? And is this because of gender differences? or something in the unconscious?
The representations of the fool has not changed much over time the man in society can become a fool if his actions and activities are unacceptable and therefore can be amusing and stand for the folly of men that seems to about respectability, hierarchy status and power. Although there may be expectations to the rule, a man can refer and believe a man to be a fool while you would rarely hear a woman be referred to as a fool, especially by a man. It is also rare to see a woman performing a fool.
The role and representations of the fool has been through men to show weakness in the character of mankind, to entertain and amuse and to speak unpalatable truths. He exists on many levels recognisable in art by his dress and conduct as any sort of behaviour that is not respected. A fool is “A male person commonly known in America as a "crowned head," although he never wears a crown and has usually no head to speak of“.-Ambrose Bierce, Devil's Dictionary quotes

Other images from new project






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New project


I have started my new project for the next year of college which is working from photos of service users.

Van Gogh portraits

John Martyn small hours 1978

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St Dymhna as shaman

St Dymhna as shaman

A story by Izzy

Live Forever

Once upon a time, in a place far far away, there lived a beautiful and spirited woman, who was like a wild flower.

Her hair contained the most incredible dreams and wonderful magic spells, from the most beautiful parts of the earth and from the edges of the solar system.

The wind of the East fell deeply in love with her and played through her lovely locks, it became such that she could command the weather.

One day the wind spoke to the smoke of her cigarette and told it to cling to each and every strand of her beautiful hair.
The cigarette smoke obeyed the wind and saturated through everyone of the golden threads and began to decay from within.


The bright sunshine of her days began to grow dimmer and colder and she was dragged deep under ground and was sent to Whitchurch Castle in the clouds.

Here she battled tooth and nail with demons and dragons. Spoke with angels and had untold adventures with good and evil.

The beautiful dreams that dwelt in her hair, turned into terrifying nightmares.

She went to the well to wash her hair, but the water would not cleanse or renew it. The sun refused to shine upon it and the saddest of all, the wind no longer wanted to play with it.

So the young woman by this time, had become a princess, scraped back her beloved hair into a ponytail and the gold sunshine began to grow out, taking her dreams and magic spells with it.

The Castle keepers were worried about her and so gave her a magic potion to rid the evil smoke that had claim of her hair.
An eternity came and went and she grew older.


One clear day the smoke had finally gone once and for all.

She was banished from the kingdom of Whitchurch and was now expected to toil the fields with the good men and women of the outside world.

She was now mortal and pined for the Easterly wind to play with her again, but he no longer loved her.

One cold morning, she had an idea to attract him back to her, so she sat at her mirror and plaited her hair into strands and put coloured ribbon on the ends to bind them.
Would he notice her again?


With her hair plaited, he would see a string of golden tears that she cried over missing him so much.

?
Now she lives in a little hut in the village and has worn her hair in plaits for 2,000 years.


One day she hopes it will be unravelled, when he remembers where he left his sunny days and warm nights with her on the moon.
The End


Illustration for story Live Forever

Illustration for story Live Forever
This is a drawing of the character in a story I wrote for a digital story telling course with the Four Winds

Bay Girls

Bay Girls
This is a drawing of two of my neighbours

Zippo face warmers

Zippo face warmers