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Volume
Three of The Lost and Found Season of the Most Pope Joey
Number One of The Tenaciously Sane Adventures of a Noman - T.O.C. Mongo
Fetch
(Cover)
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Footnotes.
Volume three of: The Lost and Found Season of The Most Pope Joey, number one of:
The Tenaciously Sane Adventures of a Noman, Toc Mongo Fetch; Titled: AnOther Piece.
(Edited by Toc Fetch and Claudia Cline. ©1998, ink on paper 14'' x 17'' First
published by L'association, Paris, in Lapin No24, June 1999, Published in the
U.S. by Abbane Ink, November 2001)
Synopsis: An ancient story found in
the Brahmavaivarta Purana
reskinned. Book one, Acts one and two.
A man attempts to achieve a hearts desire. In this new skin it is to make
a painting true, to do a thing greater than his self. He meets resistance
from the personified voices of greater history and his own past. Even
the man's very desire itself, to do this impossible work comes personified
as a huge bright snake to test the man's resolve. With the help of his
creative-darkness he defeats his desire and becomes it, climbing inside
its skin and there-by avoiding the conflict of his other desires. By this
act he gains on the one hand, and must lose on the other, that is the
law of these things. And that is the end of book one.
Epilogue by Arebear, in which he remembers the exponential magic that
took place once when comrades lived together through this work.
Page 0 - (Cover) Frame 1: (an old
pun) 'Noman' is nobody, everybody is nobody if everyone is every one -
the proletariat humanity. Noman is also the name Homer's Odysseus (the
preeminent hero) calls himself when he plays the trickster against a godling
son of one of his own gods.
Toc
was given the name Mongo Fetch once upon a time, taken from a character
of that name from Robertson Davies' novel World of Wonders (Book 2 part
5 paragraph 43). A Fetch is a spirit double, an Other, a metaphor of the
Self.
(Toc
defines his terms): The Self (or subconscious) is what is conscious.
We are, when we are conscious, mostly unconscious. The word Subconscious
is a flip-flop, if to be conscious is a pitcher suspended in the deepest
of the ocean, to then title the ocean as a subset of the pitcher... is
parody. Our small island of awareness is much more of a sub-conscious
realm within our Self then our Self is within us. The subconscious (better
called the soul) is a perceptive function of our awareness that misses
nothing, recording every layer of perception and then feeding needed parts
back to us by way of dreams, desires, and ...visions, essentially creating
our life as a dialogue. Though the dialogue is mostly a one-way conversation,
there are ways to influence the 'soul'. Though... its predilections are
mostly preset from the perceptually rich experiences of childhood. Art
is the closest approximation to that language of the soul, and the "metaphor"
gathers and speaks the most imagery in the least effort. The souls conversation
moves like water, the path of least resistance ...down. If you will talk
to the soul, you will speak the-most-in-the-least and be willing to go
downward. Down where things are so carefully lit and praise is the only
sustenance.
Surrealism
speaks a figurative poetry, (best described in the tradition of Lorca, Neruda,
and Rumi), that reads the world as a conscious conversation, and maximalizes the
distance within metaphors. I belong to this aesthetic.
I
am approaching comics (time-served) from art as opposed to approaching art through
comics. A friend of mine had a copy of God's Man when I was a kid; I hated it,
and studied its hellish sadness endlessly. What I think impressed me the most
was the amount of "inner-necessity" (a Kandinsky thing) observable in
the work, and the amount of "Serious" that went into it. No smallest
part of it was less hellish than another.
Storytelling
is the nature of what I hear when I listen into everything. Storytelling;
the human hunger that come right after survival, like right after the
belly's full; I mean ... we invented languages just so we could elaborate
on our stories. Art itself is a kind of religion of Storytelling. And
religion is just '...dead but not yet buried imagination (eec).' Every
image is a complete story, our 'Reader' (our subconscious), tells us,
if we listen, how any image came about, and the trajectory of where the
image-event will possibly go based on the gestalt of clues. In many ways
this is what Pollock offered, in a concretized form; that art is a summation,
a 'still-point' in an extending story, in a larger frame of reference.
It is this innate desire/function to read, (inductive-deductive), that
creates an on going story from two divergent images in a formal proximity,
as in a paragraph, film-edits and comic-panels. A series of images initiates
the Readers participation in that virtually-alert (sub-conscious) space
between two images.
In
my work I am caught in my own reflection with the eyes of a snaked horse, near
mute for fear of splitting my tongue, with a hand up to cover my ugly teeth fearing
to frighten flowers, searching every word from the back of my eyes
you-know
...art. Is art a disguise I've put on just to have my say? The-fuck-yeah! ...And
it is embarrassing, but what choice do I have. The air whispers by kidding at
my hair, the first drop of rain parts my lips, mud hugs to my feet and climbs
me, flicked up to my ankles, and the fire leans towards where ever I sit. It's
a fucking conspiracy from the elements down! Isn't It! Everything lifts its huge
toothy head and growls Talk! Tell us!' I say, 'What do you want me to say?' And
everything answers in a little kid's voice, 'Tell us a story'."
So
what follows is
one
possible reading, and far less valid then
your own.
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