JOSEPHY BEUYS, the day gurdjieff died
particulars of the lives of Beuys can be found
in countless documents. The application is best
served not by repetition of his selfsame rituals,
but by considering the elevation of the artist into
a sensitively tuned species, a theatre contrasting
the ordinary mechanics of human behavior. Contin-
uous effort in being, will & knowledge result in an
eventual wealth of capacity. The apotheosis is not
the world as we suspect it now, but a landscape
motivated by understanding.
of Immortals said to ascribe to
forgotten particulars. Joseph Beuys, the
day Gurdjieff died... in plain coat washed
& ragged & following no overhead doctrine.
Ritual society corresponds to transmuting
chemical habits into a progressively clearing
being. all participation within the prac-
tice of metaphrasting culture symbolizes
regeneration. CONCEPT, ACTION, OBJECT.
Learning in proportion to the inevitable
mysteries,.... Free International University
has become a way to activate intimate
schools of remembering.
on a mongrel tundra,
the frozen body of stagleader Beuys
wrapped in fat & felt. 8 days in a
coma, he may have died, or acquired
demiurgic essence. A life crises,
a depleted body in plane crash
wreckage, transformed in the course
of 30 years into a benevolent cos-
his living after "dying"
takes on sculptural form, his will
automatically detached from bodily
restraint. Or some years later
having to fend with coyote pacing
madly locked in a gallery rolled
up in a rug. From riding an edge
near death the tone & timbre of
ritual man is by exclusion decided.
step saves life or removes
death. Constantly reminded of death,
emptiness & action take on anti-
quated force. There is an ex-
panding chromaticism & a species
preparing to change.
we are stamping our feet against the wall
verifying a new species, momentary lazing against
the contempt another slow story is told slowly and
outside breaking lipping or tramel base of skull
and august another daylight is approximate music, under
footing of balcony, the door swings open walking
group of musicians always sighting familiar noises
leaving rattling organpipes, skywindows, the sight
of noise, little understood in previous century has
outlasted decay and macrotonal generalization.
out of puddle the delinquent health rather
whipped & in the place of matter so broken & cased
with the dragging cage. I am behind the attitude
& this more than apostrophe maybe makes me heavy
for the mogul. above the ground & ways away from
clatter pans & airlids crawl along the street for
the stretch of forever eternal brattle. animal &
sized paper against the walls leaning again the
potion I matter silly health statement. working
into grid & potential wracked the stain but last
day of the yearning for womenweakened agility.
vast hurry so they sing beat breath they are gone
always & have installed whereless supposing, lack
winding & bleeding breath & under the ocean of glass
lining the study looking out onto the street estranged
world of small village away from the populace. I
have established a gaunt fist or slamming instant
walls in front of me, cant get out of the way of
belonging alone or enable the stretch & reach of
my body to suggest poly any I want want so little
have anything ancient. game.
drum leader narrowed the beat, dimly light
giltered thru da noisy lights, whales tunneling and
radar sonic waves at breaking over creatures, seaside
church vast lasting vast lasting and a forgotten
women ringing bell.
what I have understood every concept within
a making is light and troubleless, many madly singers
left alone next to the sea, sound is less consistently
device & closure, outside our knowing is enumeration,
frequencies of experience accumulating.
map of the ocean is a contour of appearing noise.
I have lain package.
years in the ancient dark is bound to apt to reveal
ellipsis and truth ism of command nature----the spellbound
as it appears in real life will not be angled of held
nor sposh to rant -----/-----
diplomacy is newspaper everyday and the currency
should the frantic punk loose way in the darkling crowd, no
god to pander and the bounce feet make in the footprint
isms to believe to reduce the cueing. Not to know in advance
the specifics of the death. Body no blood had left epic.
Proportion consumes the railing art and a case of posthumous
papers should be forte for investigation. If I could know
what he say it be atomized for air concerned.
Look Like You Know this botch up the investigation. The
old man is called Hab Non, mountains being crossed by chinese
generations, musical writing memory and Hab Non had written
timelessly of the culture. Migration against careless
politics. A Tibetan Buddha horn whiles long tubular pitches.
a summons for the death of old writing man.
apostrophe for what you can push against, those boring
unmoving people lay in the mid the continent and holocaust
for change. Slight magnificent morning rises above
dawn and this building is fortress of art. It lays
between fat ridge and damp omming mountain long enough
to consider the visitors.
are robed in modeled
perfection, some spiritual sterility about their knowling
jogular plodding. But they disappear from the face of
avant garde country before they reach the building.
The building moans.
mental of all possible writings which has the
advantage it has happened before I am alive and making
it ready for living, twelvetone personal living space.
The constant, in the midst, organization of concepts,
that formal arrangement
of any set of learning, in the music learning, interper
sphere contemporary initiative and
invention in the body of littling, so much is written
far as can tell we generate pauses, diskind assimilation
if its opposite can assume
diversion, form of music that is always appearing,
comparisons with breath, infinite water, mercurial drone,
I am pausing beneath aperture so is how we last dealt
with predecessor memories, o kind of alpha, life is
light and outside pageantry we are living in whileness
living in molecules.