© PLANET OF THE ARTS 1985 © « ZonG fSlaNd L’AnOur Let me discover the longitudinal space Tose lost é : Let my laments of love thread the simuitaneous echoes of complaints, °y" that confuse themselves with infinite noise. x $ You companion--of the wind Brother of my species = x Dream with eagle eyes a \ Chocse from my catalogue of fantasy the drop of water that falls slowly so that — create the proudest N musical cascade that breaks the sad silence Po of a rainy night. Computerized agony, Aesthetic domestication of sound, ; ? % Pregrammed laments’ in the electronic sound of your laughter yet: constantly - P) - : ® I awoke Morning e @ ,With bloodstained eyes a ve And felt Jesus kiss my lips tenderly JOBUIS WORN While Beelzebub caressed my loins The peace Mec fury While nails and mud enter and leave my mouth I become stigmatic And the four angels At the four corners Leave their posts The confusion The tranquility Oh Mary N Take me in your arms and hold me Like you did your own And I'll tell you of the backrooms And the alleys For the educated mind Loves trivialities t ii gaia oat ae -% I remember my first course in Art History. We used this huge textbook, full of wonderful pictures, by H. W. Jan- son. The introduction spent some time trying to define what art is, but of course never really pinning anything down. I always wondered why it was so difficult to define art; cer- tainly many people had thought about it, but there seemed not to be any reasonable definition. I have a definition of art. I’m not sure if it is any better than any other definition (or even better than no definition at all) but it has worked for me. The strange thing about this is what started me thinking about it. It was the second time I saw the movie “Poltergeist”, a typical horror movie by Ste- ven Spielberg. (One amusing thing about this movie was that it was full of anti-television jokes, and the second time I saw it was when it was shown on TV). Briefly, Poltergeist is about this young girl who watches TV alot. That in itself is not strange, but her favorite program is the noise that you see after a station has gone off the air. She starts to make friends with some creatures who “talk” to her through this noise, until one day they come and get her and take her way to TV limbo land— somewhere between the living and the dead (this was not a subtle movie). Why is there a local con- nection to the spirit world at this locale? It happens that the (typical suburban) housing development they live in was built on top of a graveyard — which just happened to be lo- cated on the site of an old Indian holy ground (one begins to wonder whether these facts are neccessary for the story line or the special effects). The creatures in this limbo land are people who were dead, but for some reason they have not “passed over” to “the other side” (what this “other side” is was never men- tioned, probably to keep the religious fanatics off the backs of the movie distributers). All these people need to do is “walk toward the spectral light” — but they don’t. The key question for me was “Why the hell not?”. These people are agitated — caught in limbo with a bunch of other creepy dead people, and they don’t seem to be able to go the extra yard to their just reward (whatever that may be). Then it hit me. Being dead was like being asleep. These (dead) people were not conscious. As the movie said, they were in per- petual dream (more like nightmare to me) state. This made quite a bit of sense. I don’t know about you, but my dreams are not particularly rational. If I were knock- ' ing about in some subconscious state I’m not sure if I would Jerry Stochansky se x 2 = SNORT STORY VURTTING CONTESTS SSONRTGSTOP 3 ThETS Any topic, Fiction or Non-Fiction. 3=£o 69% words... May he accomnanied hy same APT(no nerformance pieces} 8 Rirst fri ze Secon? Prize PISS cift Certificates, as vet untnown.... Peacdline a0 Aa” perperck | > eine 19755 eres: MOUTBAPPND AY PY, . a = act much more logically. This started me thinking about the nature of concious- ness. The idea that you could be awake, but not conscious was particularly fascinating. I spent several months won- dering — on and off — about this. For example, I would watch my cat’s behaviour, trying to imagine what it was like to be a cat. I don’t believe cats have consciousness (at least not my cat!). Have you ever seen a cat stop to think something over? So what are cat thoughts like? Are they like my dreams? Are they like something else? This is tied into communication. If you are not con- scious, how do you communicate? Cats communicate with each other, at least on some level. How does this communication work? What is the nature of the information exchanged? At this point it all came together. At some point in their development humans attained consciousness, but before that they must have communicated — perhaps the way cats communicate. When we attained consciousness did we stop communicating this way? Why would we? Certainly some of. this communicating was subsumed into conscious communication — but there are many things that are difficult to communicate that way. Emotions. Feel- ings. : And that is what art is all about. Art is communication. Art is the remnants of the form of communication that existed before consciousness. Suddenly, many of the things that people say about art started to make sense. “This picture really says something to me.” “I know just what the artist was trying to express.” Note that it is not important whether the message you re- ceive is what the artist intended. All that is important is that communication takes place. And since this form of com- munication speaks directly to our subconscious, it can be very direct and powerful. We have a need for this kind of communication, for the same reason that we need to talk (communicate consciously) with other humans. It is a way of sharing, and affirming our humanity. of the subtle caress of the inevitable. WmLeler Adriana Ramirez Mendoza . a Eas SATE LE © PLANET oF THE ARTs 40nG island VAnOuR Let my laments of love chr that confuse themselves with infinite n ‘You companion-of the wind Brother of my species 5 Dream with eagle ey: a choese from my catalogue of fantasy the drop of water that falls slowly yer 3 so that you create the proudest \ musical cascade’ that breaks the sad silence eee of a rainy night. Computerized agony, Aesthetic domestication of sound, Programmed laments ‘ of the subtle caress of the inevitable. 10st jn the electronic sound of your laughter cipinns * vorning T awoke With bloodstained eyes -# nd felt Jesus kiss my lips tenderly . While "Beelzebub caressed my loins ‘The peace Yet fury While nails and mud enter and leave my mouth . I become stigmatic and the four angels At the four corners Leave their posts ‘The confusion ‘The tranquility Oh Mary Take me in your arms and hold me Like you did your own And I'21 tell you of the backrooms And the alleys For the educated mind Loves trivialities RG 1s Jerry stochansky ise. > Eee) Any tonic, Fi ction or Yon-Fiction. 3 to 099 words. sore APT (no May he accomnanie’ nerforrance nieces. 2 7IZckN! = First Prize 920,00 bis econ’ Prize 15.0% Seg rife Certificates. as vet ‘Adriana Ramirez Mendoza ? ar 1 remember my first course in Art History. We used this hhuge textbook, full of wonderful pictures, by H. W. Jan- son. The introduction spent some time trying to define what artis, but of course never really pinning anything down. I always wondered why it was so difficult to define art; cer- tainly many people had thought about it, but there seemed not to be any reasonable definition, Thave a definition of art. I'm not sure if it is any better than any other definition (or even better than no definition atall) butt has worked for me. The strange thing about this is what started me thinking about it. Itwas the second time saw the movie “Poltergeist”, atypical horror movie by Ste- ven Spielberg. (One amusing thing about this movie was that it was full of anti-television jokes, and the second time I saw it was when it was shown on TV). Briefly, Poltergeist is about this young girl who watches TV alot. That in itself is not strange, but her favorite program isthe noise that you see after a station has gone off the air. She start to make friends with some creatures who “talk” to her through this noise, until one day they come and get her and take her way to TV limbo land— somewhere between the living and the