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The art of futility

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  Creation doesn’t save. Art stabilises. That’s why art continues after belief has died. Not because it promises something— But because consciousness cannot stop itself. The will to create isn’t heroic. It’s involuntary. A reflex. The art of futility A spoken monologue I don’t make art because it matters. I make it because consciousness produces excess. And excess demands release. That’s the first lie we’re taught—that art points toward truth. Truth doesn’t need us. It existed before our gestures and will remain after our silence. Art isn’t revelation. It’s a regulation. An overdeveloped mind can’t remain idle. Thought accumulates. Pressure builds. Expression becomes a discharge—not a message. This isn’t noble. It’s biological. Paintings. Texts. Sounds. Images. All variations of the same maneuver. Not transcendence . Containment . Once you see this, ambition collapses. Influence. Legacy . Relevance. These are metaphysical debts art can no longer pay. The work is finished the mome...
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Ubud It happens in this time.

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It happens in this time. Within all of this hassell and bustle, there is peace to be found. It matters that our approach of founding is addressed. If we don't walk so fast,  if our minds are rested. We will have found this, where and whenever we intend understanding. Time were ritual is small,  place where space is eternal. There is a pattern to making sense. Personalised and collective. Forget the calling of the influential and competitive. Forget the combatants. Attempt to day dream. Fall over the drawn line. Re-position and let each door open wide. So much to see in so many small spaces. A universe in each unearthed cavity. There are many gods who nonsensically watch us. All whispering whilst we restrictively rant. They have privileged loss. They have fallen from superiority to obscurity. Their stories are silent whilst we are glorious in distraction. Fall with them, dream with them,  be at mind with them. Within each fall, the...
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Away from the maddening crowd

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Have you ever been to Bali? Have you visited the hills of Ubud? Have you stayed in Penestanan? Try it you may like it. Get away from the tourist industry, that spikes your adrenaline and roadblocks your inner mind. Get away from the maddening crowds. Stay in a family home-stay. Where rest and relaxation is premium, Where it is so peaceful, Where it is still and quiet, With tropical gardens, Statues of gods, Little moats and personalised bridges. All mannered by human touch. Waiting and whispering to your senses. Perfumed sounds of cultural resonance. A sentiment in time and place.
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