DAF

''I WISH I WAS A TRANSFORMER''

2011-12-01T00:00:00.001+08:00

FOR SALE

''I WISH I WAS A TRANSFORMER''

Main Material;
Coil built Ball Clay, Electric High Fired.
Clay is from Borneo. Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.
Added Materials;
Nylon Rope, Plastic Toys, Child's School bag, Keys,
Safety Pins, Leather, Concrete and Poly-resin.
Size;
5 feet 9 inches High. {1.80m.} including base.
Finish;
24k Pearl Gold and Acrylic Paint.
Edition;
One Off ... No Copies Made.
Original Artists Proof .
Year;
2010-11.

This work is sold as the original Artists Proof.

A Certificate of Proof will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in purchasing this work for your collection

please contact me at ..

deedaf@gmail.com

My Thoughts Behind The Work ...

''The making of my art is a solitude endeavour between me and my material on one hand and me and the subconscious mind on the other and to bring the balance into a reality. I like to think that the work reflects my values with the interaction of my human emotions but also breaking away from conventions and that for me is very much a self discovery.''

There are many ways if interpreting any work of art ..
it's what gives the viewer a sense of confidence in 'reading' the artist's meanings or intentions in the work and therefore some works are left without the 'story' but in this case I would like give the 'true' meanings to the symbols in my sculpture so as the viewer can have a deeper insight into
my thoughts behind the work.

I find that working with clay is both liberating, as to the freedom the material gives me to experiment and daunting, as to the challenge for realism in the work as to how far can I go to bring a 'life-of-it's-own' to the sculpture and in this sculpture,
''I Wish I Was A Transformer'' I am being symbolic in the emotions of Fear, Pride and Thought. Fear as in 'the loss', Pride as in 'being different' and Thought as in 'the ego'.
This life size figure in clay, 5 feet 9 inches is in one piece and this is the second life-size figure I have made without hands. The other work is titled 'UNCLE' and can also be seen in this blog.
If this sculpture had arms and hands I feel the narrative is not as strong and there would be from the viewer different emotions because in my work I depend on the viewer's emotions to have a connection and a sudden change on seeing the sculpture at
first hand without the 'story'.

Fear: the loss ..

As an artist a fear that lives with me is losing my hands or the use of them for my art .. my life would stop. I cannot be the artist let alone do the things I take for granted and so this sculpture was to be without hands, this was not planned but happened, as is the same for the whole of the work, from the subconscious. It was this 'Fear' that was entering into the work along with the overall stance of the figure that sends out the message to the viewer ...
''see me as I am.''

Pride: being different ..

The narrative in this work speaks for itself as in the stance, the tilt of the head the curve of the body as if levitating and in trying to cut free from his bonds. I only saw this sculpture from the early stages finished as it is, all in 24k gold paint but for the shoes, one black and one white as with the butterfly, symbolic of movement and transformation but here the ropes is the contradiction, they are symbolic if being trapped physically, no longer can have the freedom of movement and the pain mentally, but only in the freedom of the mind to dream and live in the memories and this in itself is also a contradiction. For me as the artist I am trying in a visual context to express a 'body and soul' connection we all have, or it's assumed we have. The body from birth, the soul for eternity that lives on as a separable existence from the body,
the seat of our emotions.
As for the 'dummy' in the mouth, that's his comfort in consoling his feelings but it is also a regression in the physical into a childhood long lost. The schoolbag on his back is my symbol for his 'monkey-on-the-back' ... his past pain, the rope, his past happiness, the toys and he carries the memories around with him and for all to see, it will never leave him because he keeps them alive. The elephants in the centre of his chest shows a harmony and unity of the strength in his heart and that he has a superhero's strength but for me in using the elephants and the schoolbag as the symbols for these emotions of hope and past pain is showing that we as human beings have a positive and a negative side to us, in other words, living in the expectation that the future is going to be better but our past keeps coming into our memories and stops us from living in the present time which comes back to the ego being alive and well in all
situations of our life.

Thought: the ego ..

In this work, the fish, the teddy bear, the schoolbag, the toys and the keys are all symbolic of past memories lived and a future that lives only in the mind are all derived from thought ... the ego that will not let go, and in this I am showing the ego needs all of these things to feel it's own importance to survive and at the same time to keep us in the ego. When you look at the sculpture you could be asking yourself ... 'how come, or, how did the fish and the teddy bear got under his arms?' ...
With this work I am visually showing the ego in action as to how we hold on to everything in our lives even if we had no hands, from the material to the mental thoughts that began in our childhood, 'the teddy-bear' and will swim with us,
'the fish' through our journey in life.
As for the different types and sizes of keys to his back and on the ground ... hidden and out of reach ... well, in this symbolic way I am showing you the viewer that we have the 'keys' to all our own answers and destiny, nobody else can live your life but you ... it's only a matter of looking around with an open heart and mind and finding the right 'key' to open the door to your destiny and walking through, no matter what the circumstances are or what it may bring into your life. We all have 'keys' and it's up to us if we want to open that door for the situations that move us on in life and hence the title of the work,
it's a cry out for change, a transformation of body and soul ...

''I Wish I Was A Transformer''

''I WISH I WAS A TRANSFORMER'' by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

www.daf-justdust.blogspot.com

KAYAN PENGHULU

2011-11-01T18:50:00.004+08:00

FOR SALE

KAYAN PENGHULU {HEADMAN}

Main Material; Slab-built Ball Clay Electric High Fired.

                                      Clay is from Borneo.
Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Added Materials; Glasses.

Size;  Life Size. 17.5 inches High. { 444.5 mm }

Finish; Wax Dye, Acrylic Paint.

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made.
                   Original Artists Proof

Year; 2008

This work is sold as the original Artists Proof.
A Certificate of Proof will be provided and signed by the Artist.
Copyright remains with the Artist.
If you are interested in purchasing this work for your collection
please contact me at ..
deedaf@gmail.com

KAYAN PENGHULU

This sculpture in Ball Clay and hand built is taken from an old photograph, is of a Headman also known as Penghulu of the Kayan people located in the Upper Baram and in one of the most interesting parts of Sarawak, Borneo now called East Malaysia. The Kayan people can be found midway on the Baram River and also on the upper Rajang River and parts of the lower Tubau River.

The traditional way of life is still evident but many of the longhouses, even in remote areas are quite modern now. It is said that the origin of the Kayan people is from the Apau Kayan area in Kalimantan, Indonesia hence their name. The Kayan people are categorized as a part of the Dayak people of Borneo and the population may be some 15,000 today in Sarawak but part of a larger grouping of people referred to collectively as the Orang Ulu, or 'upriver people'. They are known for as being fierce warriors and former headhunters back in the days when headhunting was all part of the survival and culture in Borneo but also for their farming skills and what is known as shift cultivation, in growing padi [rice] also adept in dry-land rice growing and the cultivation of sago. When clearing virgin jungle they established the right of ownership over that piece of land. It is believed that the original Kayan more than likely moved into Sarawak due to the exhaustion of their lands in Kalimantan.

Kayans can have extensive tattoos on their body and stretched earlobes can be found amongst male and female but today the younger generation of Kayans seldom pratice this. Kayan women tattoo their hands and legs and is considered feminine to do so. This tattooing was carried out when the girl is between ten to twelve years old. The earlobes in both men and women were perforated at an early age and brass and other types of material, including boars tusk for the men as in my sculpture, were inserted in order to extend them. For the Kayan People as for all indigenous people throughout the world the practice is a way of beautification.

The Kayan society has a class system, with class endogamy being marked among the aristocrats, however class distinctions have become less pronounced since the late 20th century but is still respected today amongst the Kayan people. Formerly, the Kayan were in frequent conflict with the Iban and other Dayak groups over land rights and general control though the Iban are the biggest indigenous group survival and respect within the community is all important. In the past, the Kayan practiced an elaborate traditional religion with numerous spirits and such ritual institutions as shamanism and augury. Most Kayan in both Indonesia and Malaysia are now Christian, though personally I would like to think some would have held on to their pagan customs.

The Kayans are well known for their boat making skills which are carved out from a single tree trunk which is treated by fire to remove the sap. Their skills in metal work are also highly regarded but today like most of the indigenous people if the opportunity comes for education they can move into all skills and professions.

KAYAN PENGHULU by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Malaysia License.
Based on a work at http://www.deedaf.blogspot.com/

CONTAGIOUS

2011-10-01T14:39:00.007+08:00

FOR SALE

''CONTAGIOUS''

Material; Slab-built Ball Clay Electric High Fired.

Clay is from Borneo.

Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; Life Size.

Finish; Wax Dye, Acrylic Paint and 24k Pearl Gold.

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists Proof }

Year; 2009.

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at ....

deedaf@gmail.com

The thinking behind the work

This work is dealing with 'Good' and 'Bad' in a way as we as human beings classify emotions and events in our lives. If you think about the title of the sculpture 'Contagious' then you as the viewer will bring thoughts up in your own mind as to what you would term 'Good' or 'Bad' ... for both can be contagious.

The world is as it is but the imprint we leave behind helps to make the world as it is ... everything in it is contagious.

''Contagious''

CONTAGIOUS by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Malaysia License.
Based on a work at www,deedaf.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.blogger.com/www.deedaf.blogspot.com.

THE STORYTELLER and A DARKER SIDE TO DAZZLE

2011-09-01T10:28:00.010+08:00

THIS IS A TRUE STORY,

except for the parts that are not.

''Razzle-Frazzle-Dazzle I have a story forrr .... Basil,''... announces the old storyteller looking around the small room full of children and the not-so-young-children. It was Basil's birthday today and Basil was more than pleased with himself that the very well known old storyteller from distant parts could pick him out in the sea of faces .. just like magic.

The storyteller now had the attention of all in the small dimly lit room and his rhythmic voice could be heard above the settling-down hum. This was in the time before we knew what was possible what we could do in the future and before man walked on the very moon above. This was the time when stories were spoken and the storyteller, for it was all in his head, was the very 'living-breathing-walking-talking-book'.

The storyteller, settling himself into his chair in front of his small audience was now looking out to some distant far-away place above the sea of heads where his mind body and soul will transport him like a time machine to the extent that he himself becomes involved into the reality of the story he is about to tell .. for this was the way of 'the storyteller' ...

and so he begins ....

''Everybody gets asked on meeting somebody for the first time as to where they come from or where they were born. It's human nature, they just want to know, you can't stop nature I always say. People are curious but others will say, a general 'busy body', or a need-to-know the info for some reason or other but most don't care as to where you were born but just want to know for that reason only, and when told most will forget what they were told in days or even hours after they got their information. This has always been the way and I for one don't see it changing in the time that's left to me but I am always curious as to why ... well I suppose it can be asked to gain more information as I have said or a time-stretching ploy in a conversation. In foreign countries, far away from our own little island here and being asked for the most 'vital information' .. ah, here it comes now ... wait for it ... 'Place of Birth', ah you cannot hide from it, that's what it is saying, you understand me now ... and way back before this time we are in now it was already asked for, the most 'vital information'. Everyone is born somewhere, but some people don't like to tell where they were born or where they come from. Maybe they are embarrassed of where they were born or maybe just plain do not want to tell you and give some other place of birth ... somewhere maybe far off and more exotic, and when the person is told .. they are happy, everything is O.K., in fact you could say ... 'hunky-dory' between them. Everything is running it's natural and normal course between two human beings but it would be a very different story all together if you were to answer, something like this;

''I am not telling you'' ...

''None of your business'' ...

The outcome of that type of answer would make life and future communication very difficult for both parties to move on in a normal fashion, a divide has opened up and more to the point, anger and even resentment comes into it. As for me when I am asked I have no problem at all in telling people where I was born ..... everybody smiles when I tell them, people are like that ... and yes, I do get a lot of questions then and some funny remarks too, but it's O.K. with me. I for one don't mind in one least bit when I am asked 'where you come from?' ... well that went on a bit longer than expected, no matter for it's all part of the story. I will tell you now the answer I usually give them.''

By now everybody in the room was giving their full attention. They did not want to miss a single word what the storyteller was going to say. They will hear it once and maybe only once in their lifetime and if they were lucky enough to hear the same story again, it would not be told in the same way, no matter how many times the story would be told and retold. It is for sure, as night follows day the same story will always be different ... the same story ...
and 'the storyteller' continues .....

''I was born in a small town on the coast of a a small island set on the edge of the Atlantic sea called Dazzle. Nobody really knows how it got it's name because in a way it's a 'dull' place at the best of times, more 'dull' now because most of the young people have gone to the brighter lights of far away places across other seas not many young couples move in here to start a family life. The long winter months are gray overcast, like a fog that never wants to move on, just hanging about like the bad odour of feet but the one place of interest in Dazzle is the local cemetery set on a very steep hill. Now everybody ends up in a cemetery at least once in their lifetime above ground amd then below ground and then cannot leave till the final day of judgement when there will be a mad rush for all to get out. Dazzles cemetery was the highest patch of ground above sea level and looking out to sea .. I called it, the 'dead-watch'. Anybody out at sea can see the outline of the stones in the cemetery even when the 'grayness' was hanging over the small village and I tell you this as air breaths out of my mouth that one of the local stories as to why Dazzle got it's name is that when sailors were out at sea they could see the white headstones on the hill in the cemetery, but it's only folklore because at that time there was no such place for the departed, no cemetery, and no stones. Very few people, even in this day know or have heard of Dazzle and the ones who have heard of Dazzle, it's because of it's 'dark past', that is one of many stories about Dazzle and it's name but I will tell you that one another time in more detail .... there is always time for a story but this is the very 'real McCoy' story about Dazzle I am about to tell you all now and you might only hear it being told once, for it is not written down.''

Now everybody knew they were going to hear a 'real story' of some adventure they never heard of before, even the very young ones in the room could sense it. The storyteller crosses his arm's and sweeps the room with his deep sea blue hypnotic eye's and in this dim light you could see the deep blue, just like the sea they could hear in the distance eating away at the coast line of the small island that could disappear in their own life time. Everybody is watching, watching 'the storyteller', some with their mouth's open and eyes like plates in anticipation of the 'real McCoy story' to be told. The storyteller lift's his left leg over his right leg with both of his hands, slowly and leans very far back in his chair that they were waiting for it to topple him to the floor. He looks to the ceiling above their heads holding his gaze fixed to that space that even those in that small room looked in that same direction too, some with effort and straining their necks and bodies to that 'spot' in the ceiling. Maybe the very words of the story were written on the ceiling and if so, well, they were only for his eye's. He pulls his shoulders in as a cold chill went up his spine, his hypnotic sea blue eye's still fixed to the 'spot' and letting out a deep sigh for it could be heard at the back of the room, you felt like 'sighing' too with him. He begins the rhythm of the words that now sound more like a chant and could brake into song at any given time ...

''It was September 1588 and the storm was at it's height blowing cold winds and angry waves so high that if you were out at sea you could not see the rugged coastline. Now these were very experience sea-going farers, most not happy men on dry land at the best of times but this storm was the worst they had ever had the experienced of and knew in their hearts of hearts that if they were to survive this they will have some tale to tell when they got back to port but it would need more than a miracle or a boat load of saints to come out of this storm. Their prayers were not going to be answered, not this day and not in this time. They knew their galleon was been pulled into the coastline but what they did not know was what was waiting for them if they did manage to swim to the shore. No warning was given, no alarms cried out. The two sailors who were in the crows nest were thrown out of the 'nest' just like the way the bold cuckoo makes room for her eggs in another of natures unsuspecting nest. They had no chance of survival in the fall let alone cry out the most vital and all important warning to all on board of the stricken galleon. What with the force of the wind and the sail cloth flapping around like flags on national day trying to out-do each other in maneuvers and noise, it was Hell ... and the end of the world as they knew it. They had no chance. They were in the storm that was to go into history as the storm that Satan himself made and God ignored. The Spanish galleon, violently being thrown around like a cork in water was itself giving up the fight against the 'Diablo'. It was hopeless. They were being pulled into the eye of the storm. Around and around like a leaf into an ever expanding whirlpool, pulling all into it's centre never to see the light of day again, and maybe, just maybe, it was a whirlpool created by God himself to put the fires of Hell out and drown the devil him-very-self.''

'The storyteller' claps his hands together like thunder that all jumped in the room, even the not-so-young, and pauses for the effect to make the impact and everybody gives out a nervous laughter ... and continues with a twisted expression on his face that all sitting in the room thought he was very angry ...

''By now most of the Spanish ships, broken and not-so-proud were slowly making their way down the coastline, but to no avail, most were wrecked on the rocky coastline off the small island, from the north tip to the south end. There were several galleons, but most of the ships were merchantmen, which had been converted to do battle and were now leaking heavily, with most of their anchors missing and with half crews not lost yet to the storm but most having been thrown overboard in the storm and lost to the sea never to be seen again. Not even to this day has the bodies being washed up on to the beaches.Those still alive now were struggling to make sail with severely damaged masts and rigging, it was a very lost cause indeed. As for the rest of the fleet, one hundred and thirty five in all that sailed from Lisbon that year only eighty four made it back in varying states of distress to their home land so it is told, but little can be depended on this information today, because that fog .. that thick soup in the air that smelled of death itself gave no chance of hope of survival to man or fish. It is estimated that five thousand members of the fleet perished off the coast of the island before getting to land. It was so hopeless, the 'Diablo' was taking souls in the great complexity that goes into making such a storm that mankind has not the power to controle and never will.''

'The storyteller' looking to the ground in front of him as if it was going to open up and take him too ... and was that a tear coming from his right eye ... those that thought they saw it were not sure, but the effect of it made a long lasting impression on those that say they saw it and for the rest of their living days they will come to tell each other that maybe 'the storyteller' himself was really there, in person, in that exact time of 1588 and watching it all unfold in front of him.
Lifting his head slowly and surveying his audience, left to right and back again to the ground in front of him,
He speaks, with a shiver in his voice as if he came in from the cold ... and maybe he did.

''I will tell you this as sure as I am sitting here that it was a lone Spanish galleon from the Armada limping it's way back to Spain, against all the odds of survival of getting back and carrying the worst bunch of blood thirsty cut throats that ever lived and put to sea, they were all there on that very same galleon that was thrown onto the rocks at Dazzle without mercy and just like a child throwing a stone into a pond sending out ripples the very same cut throats sailors were thrown over board. It is not known how many men got to the shore but legend has it that eighty men were killed on the beach that terrible day by the axe of a lone islander known as the 'Defender of Dazzle'. He fought with fury unleashed in his actions like a wild dog turned loose without tiring and without stopping, till all the men who were washed on shore were no longer breathing the foggy air of Dazzle. To watch him fight was like watching the dance of death reaping lost souls running around just like headless chickens. He moved as if it was all rehearsed and in knowing the outcome of such a battle. Now tradition has it that it is the 'dazzle' from his axe while he is standing on the high ground is what you can see from sea just like the lighthouse beacon giving out the warning that danger lies here. The 'Defender of Dazzle' is always on the beach ready to do battle with any deserving soul and at times could be seen at the cemetery hill top watching out for such. He stands alone, strong and fearful of what might come ... and I should know for I am from the 'darker side of Dazzle' .. I am that very one sitting in front of you all they call 'The Defender'.''

Nobody dares to move from their seats when 'the storyteller' gets up from his chair limping badly with his right foot to leave the room and what's more, nobody took notice that 'the storyteller' had no limp when he arrived or that he was taller than he is now ... As for Basil, the birthday boy, 'the storyteller' had marked him for life on that day in that he will spend the rest of his living days in search for this gray place in the fog called, 'Dazzle'. It really started off as a passion that became a life time obsession with him that nothing else and nobody for that matter had a place in his life and if you want to know the truth .. he never did find that small village on the coast of any island or for that matter the 'Defender of Dazzle', nor ever saw or heard of 'the storyteller' again but it's very possible that right at this very moment in time he is still looking for Dazzle and 'the storyteller' in the after life world for Basil died in a storm at sea not unlike the one the Spanish galleons went down-in off the coast of that mystery land they called Dazzle.

''Which reminds of another story in a long-a-bout way .. 'The Coffin Jacket' ... did I ever tell you that story, no .. well, maybe that's for another time''...

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

NOT TALKING ...

2011-08-01T09:13:00.010+08:00

FOR SALE

''NOT TALKING''

Material; Slab-built Ball Clay Electric High Fired.
Clay is from Borneo.
Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; 19.5 inches long x 9.5 inches wide x 14.5 inches high

{ 482.6 mm x 254 mm x 381 mm }

Finish; Wax Dye

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists Proof }

Year; 2008

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at ....

deedaf@gmail.com

The thinking behind the work

Your first impression when looking at this work might be that it is in a 'naive style'. My intention throughout modeling this work was to keep it simple in style because I wanted to portray rejection and loneliness and also our dependence on companionship of any kind.

I think that the fisherman has to be content in what he is doing for a livelihood but also content in his own mind when out in sea and the elements that he cannot let any 'wild ideas' be running through his mind otherwise he would not go to sea each day.

In my sculpture 'Not Talking' my fisherman is naked symbolising his vulnerability to the sea and his offering of himself to the elements in life ... his dependence on his dog for companionship and when he and the dog had a disagreement and are 'not talking' his shame and isolation are now the most important thing happening in his life and even though the two are in the same boat both have their backs turned to each other and on their own in their emotions and thoughts.

I have given the dog the 'intelligent look' and that he is right in his point of view that he is looking towards the sky as if he is telling someone his side of the story. The fisherman in his shame and rejection by his companion the dog who shares his boat everyday has his head buried in his hat as if he does not want to hear and is in disbelief of what is happening to him. The bottle of beer between the two symbolises that it might be what came 'between' them and, or is part of life.

The deeper meaning in the work is that as human beings we are all sailing in our own boats {LIFE} and that we can all act in the same way in our own relationships and our dependence on others.

NOT TALKING by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Malaysia License.
Based on a work at www,deedaf.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.blogger.com/www.deedaf.blogspot.com.

''IF YOU GO DOWN IN YOUR MIND TODAY ..''

2011-07-01T10:33:00.010+08:00

FOR SALE

''IF YOU GO DOWN IN YOUR MIND TODAY ..''

Size;  19 inches long x 10 inches wide x 15 inches high
            { 495.299 mm x 241.299 mm x 368.299 mm }

Finish; Wax Dye

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made
                     {Original Artists Proof }

Year; 2008

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at ....

deedaf@gmail.com

The thinking behind the work ...

I do not want to sound egoistical when I say this but there was no 'thinking' in this work for me. It flowed like a movie in my mind. Once I started the work the sculpture was telling me what was next to add. This work is telling a story but it's my story and when you look at the sculpture 360 degrees reading it from right to left it will tell you a story but then it will be your story and it will derive from your own imagination from your memories of childhood what you have seen and read, your fears and emotions and where you are today in your maturity.

What I will say is this, this sculpture gave me the very reason to explore that which is not cognizable through science and rationality and enter into my world as the artist where the language of the subconscious mind can be put into 3D form and become the linkage between mind, vision and material. In this sculpture, past, present and future can be seen along with good and evil. It came from non judgemental action, that is, the subconscious.

''IF YOU GO DOWN IN YOUR MIND TODAY ..''

underlies that what we dream between the imaginable space we so often can find ourselves in or that not yet embedded world of possibilities where dreams can become a reality with the world of things already existing in a material world of sound, touch and smell. Where the world of dream can come together to move your senses into an experience of a 'personal experience' with art.

IF YOU GO DOWN IN YOUR MIND TODAY by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Malaysia License.
Based on a work at www,deedaf.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.blogger.com/www.deedaf.blogspot.com.

MY PET

2011-06-01T11:45:00.009+08:00

FOR SALE

MY PET

Material; Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired.

Clay is from Borneo. Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; 35 inches high. {0.889mm}

Finish; Wax Dye, Acrylic Paint, and 24K Pearl Gold.

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made {Original Artists Proof }

Year; 2009

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

Copyright remains with the Artist. If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at .... deedaf@gmail.com

The thinking behind the work ....

I wanted to make a work that implied sexual connotations through out without being vulgar or erotic and at the same time being sexual in all aspects of the word. To involve emotions of loneliness and yet contentment in mind.

In this work 'My Pet' I am the symbolist artist but I am also trying to convey visually what can be written in words without leaving the reader any doubt as to what is going on and so when it comes to the visual you are left to your own emotions and as to where you are in your acceptance of life and your fellow Human Being.

MY PET by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Malaysia License.
Based on a work at www,deedaf.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.blogger.com/www.deedaf.blogspot.com.

THE TOSS OF A COIN

2011-05-01T21:17:00.007+08:00

                             I AM ... AM I ...

                         I don't need to be pardoned for my sins in the past. What's in the past is in the past unless you take pleasure in opening up festering wounds that never seem to heal over. Time can heal many wounds but it don't make deals with your memories, this one you cope with yourself in your own way but maybe I need to be pardoned for the sin I am about to commit .... this is my story as it happened, as true as I am sitting here putting it down for the record.

                         I am getting too old now for the cold weather but it was extra cold that night in mid December. I don't know how many stops I had made during that journey but I think it was three, yes it was three, I remember now because each time I stopped I was taking a mental flogging for events in the past and those about to happen. I felt like turning back to the safety of all that was good and what I believed in to be good but I knew this was not possible. There was no running away from it. I had to keep going in spite of the pain in my head and traffic that was now slowing everything down to a crawl which I took to be personal as to deliberately slow me down in getting to my destination. It was the stress with-in me getting to me. Each time I thought about the whole thing, I pulled the car over and lit another damn cigarette, sometimes not even smoking the things that were already killing me but that was not what was on my mind. I had another matter that was taking over my mind like creeping lava, burning all that was good in it's path and making me sick to my inner core. You know that sickness, half physical but more of a mental thing. The sickness that takes over everything that is .. or passes you off for sane in this world and then you find you are starting to talk Jibberish to yourself and pulling faces that if someone else was to look at you they would look away very quickly because they would feel you are not quite right in the head and rightly so. They don't want problems .. they have their own cross to battle with without you coming on to them like a raving lunatic, let alone that they are reminded that it could very well be them in the same situation that seems to find everybody, rich-man poor-man some time in their life.

                         I had being driving now for almost seven hours without any decent rest except for the self imposed 'pit stops' that solved nothing in my thoughts and gave me no rest of any kind .. I had a lot of 'soup' in the head I wanted to vomit out. You can never tell when something like this creeps up on you ... you might see the signs but you chose to ignore them because you know you don't want the outcome, you only know deep inside from your own so called intuition that it could only end up bad, and now I am here, in that state, in that 'place' that has no turning back. I prayed with all the faith I could muster up for me to step back into time and for the things as they were before making my journey on this God forsaken night ... and He has forsaken me.
Maybe I stop the poor-me crap and tell you how I got to this very 'place' ...

                          I was putting my vestments away and hoping I would not be taking them out again for the rest of the week and tidying about after that sad but damned funeral that split my small community in half and put them at each others throats like two super powers trying to kill themselves but still in ignorance of the consequences. They each had their own reasons as to why she died and both were saying the same thing but just could not for the love of man see it ... how far can anger turn the mind that no state of mind can put things right what ever you feel that 'right' is. It's a constant battle between good and evil in any given normal day but this is no normal day and I don't know if any other day can ever be normal again. Evil seems to always win on the first toss of the coin .... tell me if I am wrong about that one ... try it.
At first I did not hear the knocking on the door until it became a heavy pounding like the sound of distant thunder. When I did open the door a child was standing there looking frightened but with the determination to see the errand through, I could tell by the body language. A piece of dirty paper was thrown on the ground in front of me and then the child ran away in the knowing expectation it did not wanted to be questioned by the figure in black ... or to get away quickly as if seeing me would mark him or her for life. I stooped to pick the greasy paper up. Greasy from the sweat of little hands and now those little silver dots were dancing in front of my eyes as I tried to focus to read. I read and I reread and stood fixed to the spot understanding what had to be done but deep down not wanting to understand and I reread again. It was not for the first time what was about to happen. I knew what had to be done, and why not lit up another cigarette. I was expecting this, but it came sooner this time than the other times before. It was now way past mid-day and I was already half way through this soggy pack of smokes and allowed myself a not-to-often-smile. Maybe I smoked this brand because the camel on the pack reminds me of a story that started a whole list of events off that took control of mankind and divided it up into 'the power of three, them us and others'. It was the way I was seeing things now, all because of a 'camel' and maybe I was smoking 'camel shit'. I closed up the vestry and took what I needed into my blue hold-all, it didn't take long, I knew what I had to bring and left a note to say I had to go out on a sick call. It was very much, and without question, understood what 'sick call' meant here and also because it was not for the first time I had to leave a note like it. Each time the 'sick call' took more out of me but on some very unexpected day and you can bet on it and like a slap on the face from out of nowhere it will kill me .. maybe to-day is that day ... right now, who's to know ... except maybe Him above and Him below.

                         I pulled off the main road and onto a dirt road. You would miss that turn-off if you were to sneeze. Sleet was starting to fall heavy and slowed the wipers down with the weight of ice and rain. Tall blackberry hedge rows each side of me with hidden ghosts looking out at me, sneering and taunting me as I drove up the dirt road. You would find it hard now days to see blackberry surviving the deeds of farmers, progress and so called 'new farming methods'. I could hear loud and clear the thorns of the hedge row scraping along the side of the car like finger nails on glass as I made my way up to the double storey farm house made from brick and the upper part in wood that could do with a paint job, even in this weather you could see that .. but it has being like this for as long as I have being coming here and I doubt if it will ever be painted again. Thirteen hours sitting in the car did not do my back any good and as for the pain in my side it was like as if a hot spear went through. If anybody saw me getting out of the car even in this darkness they would swear on there mothers grave that I was drunk and in a way I was 'drunk' from tiredness. I stretched slowly in the hope I was not going to pull a muscle now in my back and walked slowly to the front door, picking my steps like a cat sneaking up on a mouse or just simply and no getting away from it .. nerves. Fourteen steps up. Why anybody wants fourteen steps to a front door still amuses me, it comes with the job, thinking like this. Standing on the porch and trying to get my wind back ... of course .. I was fooling myself .. it was fear. Fear that made my heart pound that I could hear no night sounds .. if there was any to be heard but I am sure they were all there, encouraging me on .. ghosts too. It's always the fear that I can rely on and never get use to. My hand was shaking as if it was trying to stop me from doing what cannot be stopped now ... as it reached out to the front door but wanting to fall down by my side like a timid dog wanting approval from it's owner ... but the door opened at the sight of my hand .. it never got to 'knock' or for me to wait in the sweating fear for it to open from the other side. At first I did not see him but got that heavy pungent smell like decaying vegetation. My body took a step back to protect me from myself fainting, or maybe it was two in the remembrance of what we are and of the feuding factions we have become and now confronting each other again ... good and evil ... we stand for all that is good and for all that is evil and as you will come to know it without doubt in your own way and in your own time as we all do for we cannot escape it. We cannot go through life without facing one or the other and maybe both at the same time and make that fatal choice where the freewill is given full freedom to act .. not even a priest of any making or throwing all discretion to the four winds can call on God to decide for him.

''I got your message.''

''I know priest. I delivered it myself, personally .. did you like the effect .. somehow a kid can always bring the desired effect into play ... do you not think so ?''

''Why do you do this to me ?''

''Why not, we have a good thing going here, why end our little friendship after all this time we have known each other.''

''It's killing me. My community would not be happy if they knew I was talking with the devil .. and a busy devil at that.''

''That's not fair .. you are like the child now, name calling, and as for your so called 'community' more than half and maybe all for that matter will belong to me in the end one way or the other.''

''Fair .. don't talk about fairness ... you took that child's soul. She had not got the chance in life to see where her soul would end up ..

I knew you were behind it, you always are. Look who's talking about being fair. You have no fairness in you. You make me sick you do.''

''What's the problem, stop whining, it's only one little soul ... but you came all the way out here for it all the same, scourging yourself on that drive. Getting longer each time, too many memories now for you. You know I am with you all the time ... don't fool yourself because I am not playing games here.''

''You just love to see me make that journey. To make me suffer all the more for their sins and don't think for one second that I am playing games.''

''It was part of our little deal from the very first word spoken or have you forgotten .. no you have not forgotten our first little encounter on that mountain when you were on your so called 'forty days and forty nights trying to find yourself trip'... I made you the offer that everything you can have with no effort but you made your choice .... so live with it.''

''No I haven't forgotten. How can I forget when I have to live with it each day .. we were friends before you wanted things your way , all your way.''

''You are not going to start again about this 'good and evil' crap talk. You can talk about it to the others but not to me .. I'm too old for this bullshit now but the way I see it I am winning the war against 'good' ... take a look around you ... take a long look at the mess they are making .. how many wars and depravity acts are in the making right now .. there are more so-called 'evil' acts being carried out in the world than ever before in it's history and sometimes we don't need souls to mess it all up, Mother Nature wants her revenge too.''

''That's not the way I see it and for me for I still see the 'good' in all souls. There is still hope for 'good' to come through but you have the knack of looking up when I am looking down.''

''Yea yea yea .. heard it all before, let's get down to it and as in your own sweet words .. I'm a 'busy devil' ... no time to waste here, we are not jaywalking now. We will see who will win her little innocent soul back on the toss of a coin. We use my coin this time .. and on observation we will have deliberation so to speak ... O.K. with you my friend ?''

''I AM ... O.K.''

''AM I ... O.K.''

...... ...... ......

THE TOSS OF A COIN by DAF is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Malaysia License.
Based on a work at www,deedaf.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.blogger.com/www.deedaf.blogspot.com.

ICE BEAR and SEAL

2011-04-25T11:05:00.000+08:00

FOR SALE

ICE BEAR and SEAL

Material;   Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired.
Clay is from Borneo. Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size;   20inches long x 16inches wide x 10inches high
            { 508mm x 406.4mm x 254mm }

Finish;   Wax Dye

Edition;   One Off ... No Copies Made
                  {Original Artists proof }

Year;   2007

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

Copyright remains with the Artist.
If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at ....
deedaf@gmail.com

THE EUNOCH

2011-04-17T11:49:00.000+08:00

FOR SALE

THE EUNOCH

Material; Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired.

Clay is from Borneo. Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; Life Size

Finish; Wax Dye, Acrylic Paint and 24k Pearl Gold

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists proof }

Year; 2007

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at ....

deedaf@gmail.com

FLAME FROG

2011-04-13T11:43:00.006+08:00

~~FOR SALE~~
SOLD
Private Collection Borneo

''FLAME FROG''

Material; Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired.

Clay is from Borneo. Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; 18inches long x 15inches wide x 10inches high

{ .46mm x .38mm x .25mm }

Finish; Wax Dye

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists proof }

Year; 2007

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in this work for your collection please contact me at ....

deedaf@gmail.com

THE MIRAGE-KING

2011-04-07T12:13:00.003+08:00

Public art in a public space .... an identity for all.
Commission this sculpture on a large scale

Title;    THE MIRAGE-KING

Material;   Coil-built Ball Clay. Electric High-Fired
Clay is from Borneo. Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size;   Scaled up to any size in stone of your choice.

Maquette Finish;   Wax Dye and 24K Pearl Gold

Year {Maquette};   2007

Commission as a public work

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in commissioning this work on a large scale please contact me at ....

deedaf@gmail.com

The Thinking Behind The Work ...

THE MIRAGE-KING
This sculpture is a political statement.
It is dealing with power and the loss of it and as human beings how we gain, by force or merit to control power. To most people power is a 'mirage' something that is far off in the distance that can never be reached, they can see it but it fades away and a reminder that opportunities come and go both for individual and countries alike.

'The Mirage-King' is a sculpture that sends out the message to all that power shifts, it never stays with one person for long or in one country. This sculpture is a statement of past, future and the present time we live in and can never lose it's message in any generation. As human beings we tend to need reminders to be human and public sculpture is one of the ways that this can happen, where it can interact with the viewer and be accessible to all.

This work can be of any scale and in any material though I designed it with stone in mind and carved from one block. The surface finish is 'comb' to give the effect of movement in the sculpture both up close and from a distance. As you can see I photograph my maquette with the sea and coast line as the back drop for if this was the reality the sculpture would become
a landmark.

The King, all powerful in theory but only too fragile in reality, The Mirage.

BUCKING BILL BLUNT

2011-03-18T11:12:00.018+08:00

...

                   ''Black, strong with four sugars ... my wife would have something to say to you about that.''
''So .. I need this, it's the only high I will get today .... keeping my sugar levels up you can tell her, unless you brought in something else for me .. did youuu ?''
''How do you feel about this ?''
''What ... keeping my sugar level up.''
''What we talked about yesterday.''
''I don't know ... what did we talk about yesterday ?''
''You know you will have to do it sometime.''
''I know ... and maybe not, but only if I want too and in my own bitter-sweet time ... something like this coffee ... but hey, who's complaining.''
''But now is not the time, is that what you are saying ?''
''No that's not what I am saying, did you hear me say that ... pushie you are dis morning."
''No I wouldn't say that and that's not fair, but I do know you and maybe better than yourself I would feel.''
''Every body's a bloody physiologist ... sure you got out of your own bed this morning ?''
''You know I am a physiologist .. and why are you being so difficult now ... yesterday you wanted to do this.''
''Well then, to play you at your own game Doc .... would you not agree that to the criminal mind honesty seems foolish.''
''Yes, it's true, to the criminal mind honesty does seem foolish .. but you are no fool Bill, you know that and I know it too, what ever other's are saying.''
''Thanks for the complement ... but me talking, that was yesterday and today is today and tomorrow will be a whole new deal but now things are different the way I see it now, and no, I am no man's fool but I would like to think of myself as ... let's say ... it came to me last night and the only thing that did come, ah yea, I remember now ... 'a malformed soul'.''
''Your words may show me your wit but your past actions show ruthless intentions that you carried out to a bitter end. The only thing that is different here is you keep changing your bloody mind when you come to some kind of agreement with yourself ... look Bill.''
''Don't call me Bill.''
''But that's your name.''
''Not today it's not.''
''Don't do this now, hurting yourself, you know your name is Bill ... it was also the names of the other five accounted men you killed.''
''Coincidence ...''
''I quote ... 'from a statistical perspective, coincidences are inevitable and often less remarkable than they may appear at first' ... is that not what you said to me in one of our first meetings when it came up, it's also what you said to the judge more or less when sentence was being passed and what's more, you gave the dailies a free run with that.''
''Don't remember, but if it's so and that's what you are saying then can we not call it 'punishment for my concealed sins' ..Ohhhh, I like that ... feel I am on a roll here today Doc .... I need a smoke ... get it.''
''You don't want to remember Bill when it suits you to play dumb, and what's more you allow yourself to forget through choice. I am the one link you have to your thoughts right now and the outside world ... now stop this playing about, you don't exactly have time on your side, do you ?''
''Well then ..'tick-tock' and tell meeee Doc ... is it also not a coincidence that your own name is also Bill ... and do I detect a hint of a treat here ... jumpy this morning, are we Doc ?''
''Yes and no .... look Bill, I want to say this again to you .. spiritual and other mystical teachings push this view that there is absolutely no coincidence in the world ... everything that occurs can be related to a prior cause or association, no matter how vast or how minute and trivial it is but all is affected by something related to it that is seen or unseen .. who's to know, but personally I tend to agree ... and we are both in agreement on that from what I remember because we talked a lot about it, unless you have changed your mind again, have you changed your mind again Bill ?''
''Good for you Doc, 'tick-tock' ... you have been listening hard, have you not to our little 'tell-all-bro-talks' but right now I have got two hours to go ... 'tick-tock' ... before they strap me into that chair and fry me insides to a chip with that injection, but I did the crimes and now, once off, I will do the payback ... real civilized and this time it's my own flesh I will be smelling, cooking up the liquids. You know, loved that movie Doc, 'Dead Man Walking' with Sean Penn ... he was good in that, look like he was really into the part, dreamed about it last night too ... talk about coincidence and now they are sending me off packing to 'Big Bill' in the sky or is he in Hell, no I think he is in Hell because I'm in Hell and here from where I am standing everyone is named Bill, bucking Hellhole ... buckbuckbuck ... Buckkkk ... sorry Doc .... maybe it's me that's jumpy but I know what bed I got out of this morning ... ohhh man's desires are insatiable .. 'tick-tock'. You know Doc .. think about this, that movie, 'Dead Man Walking' .. you are just like the nun in the movie trying to reach out spiritually and help as a guide to my salvation .. and that guy, he was six years on death row. I'm six years on death row. I'm not saying but maybe there is something in that, but you have to admit some things can't be explained.''
''Bill, stop playing around here, it's just a movie, don't be taking it personal but I would like to think I am here as your friend, not just your doctor. It's almost two years now we are talking up front, something that you never did before but I am going to ask you again ... why do you think you kill those five men ?''
''Well Doc the truth be known, it was six .. they missed one ... as I said before I love to smell smoke but I don't mind telling you now seen that time is short on my end and I suppose you deserve that much for being patient with me all this time. I will tell you a well kept secret ... my father's name was Bill and my mother's name was Billie I was named Bill and my sister was named Billie Small, shooooeeee, even my bloody dog's name was Billy Boy, he was a moody son-of-a-bitch, you didn't want to come up on him on the wrong side. Everything around me was named 'Bill' or 'Billy' and somewhere along the way I got a little confused in the sense that when I heard or saw the word 'Bill' it was coming over as if God himself was speaking to me .. killkillkillbill ... that little voice that was always with me when nobody else was. My aunt would say to me ''God is always with you Billy Boy, is that not right, you hear God talking to you, don't lie to me now'' .. well, He was with me when I was doing His work .. I told you before they had 'concealed sins' Doc, those men, now that's 'coincidence' in the working, me and God. Him above instructed, I carried it out to the bitter end. We were partners in riding this earth of evil people until them bucking cops caught up with me. Chased me across a couple of states they did and back, never let up, thought I could shake them off on a turn-a-round but they just wouldn't let go, no sir, caught me up state hiding out in the swamps .. and here I am now talking to my 'little nun' trying to save my sorry-ass and at the same time comforting a convicted killer on death row.  Sorry Doc, the rest is history as you know it and now you know more than you did yesterday. You now have my little secret to mull over Doc.''
''The records show you had no family and that it was an aunt that had the hard job of rearing you even though she was fond of having a good time herself and brought you from boy to man before your time.''
''O.K. Doc, we won't dwell on that now if you don't mind you can leave that one out. I suppose I deserve it for playing around with your head ... anyway, you know how I like to watch a fire burn. It makes my stone heart warm just to see those flames dancing and lighting up the sky's above like the 4th of July. I will miss the smell of sulphur. That first strike of the match. You know, I'm going to Hell for real but don't you see the irony of it all ... it will be me and 'Old Bill' keeping the fires burning to welcome all the new 'lifers', what am I saying ... permanent guest's ... which brings to mind, don't know how but, do you think I will meet that Italian guy .. what's his name again, you gave me the book to read .. got it, Dante, he wrote about Hell and those other places so well that I do believe he was there himself. I bet he got the grand tour from 'Bill' to help write his book in exchange for his soul or maybe he was real-close-up with 'Old Bill' that he could pop in at any time of the day or night and take notes. You never know Doc, might even meet up with you there. Any concealed sins Doc ... ?''

Bill stood up to his full six feet two, stretched his club-like hands above his head and stubbed out his roll-up on the ceiling of his holding cell and something else looked out of his eyes.
Smiling he walked to the double plated tinted glass window that will never be opened in any man's remaining time there, and looking down from three floors up he could see the hand painted placards in red ...
KILL ILL BILL ...     YOU KNOW THE DRILL BILL ...
YOU TAKE WE BAKE ...      EYE FOR AN EYE ...
They were being held high above the angry crowd that was now increasing to a mini battle zone scene that was causing some real concern for the police but would make any film director proud on the first take.
In the late June morning sunlight it was a field-day for the media and Bill's last day to be smelling any kind of smoke, even if it's his own.

''Now there's a coincidence Doc, come over here and see this. I thought I saw my father, mother and sister down there waving up at me, the whole bloody lot ... hey, there's Billy Boy my dog over there standing with my aunt, ... she looks too pleased to see me, I know that grin of her's ... look here Doc, come and see this for yourself ... they do look a bit like on the 'burnt-toast-side'.''

It happened so fast that Doctor Bill Blunt never knew what hit him from behind ... because he never woke up.

''You son-of-a-bitch Doc ... shit, bucking hell, I am sorry, guess I don't mean that last bit, it just came out, the words, forgive me on that one Doc ... I lost it there but you make me bucking nervous and I had to buck you ... see it my way .. sorry Doc .. guess I might after all meet up with 'Old Bill'.''

Bill walked slowly back to his chair in silence but hearing that voice in his head .. ''Look at it this way Billy Boy, no loose end's and no regrets, but, if it's worth doing then it's worth doing well.''

That was enough talking done for one day.

... ... ...

This Narrative has won the 'Q.F.L. Award' for Excellence

'G8 ... THIS IS NO HEAVEN ...'

2011-03-13T13:45:00.025+08:00

Public art in a public space .... an identity for all
Commission this sculpture on a large scale

Title;   G8 ... THIS IS NO HEAVEN ...

                             SEE NO TREES
                                  HEAR NO BIRDS AND BEES
                                           NOW ON OUR KNEES.

Material;   Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired
                                Clay is from Borneo
Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Maquette Size;   Life Size 16 inches High [0.406.4m]
                                   Can be scaled up to any size

Maquette Finish;   Wax Dye and Acrylic Paint

Year;   2008

Commission as a public work

A 'Certificate of Proof' will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in commissioning this work on a large scale please contact me at .... deedaf@gmail.com

The Thinking Behind The Work ...

'G8 ... THIS IS NO HEAVEN ...' 
This sculpture is an environmental statement.
The work is depicting a baby, symbolic of the future generation,
blindfolded and holding the burnt-out stump of a tree also in the form of a candle. My idea behind this work is to show how innocent the future generations are to the destruction,
man made or natural to our Eco system.
What I would like to see is for this work to be commissioned and made on a very large scale and placed in public.
The strong message that it sends out will read the same any where in the world in making the statement of how our Eco system affects future generations. Each generation and human being has a responsibility to protect the environment.

Is there someone or some country that believes in this sculpture to make it a reality for it's message to reach the world .. it should not die with me in my studio.

UNCLE

2011-03-04T14:00:00.005+08:00

FOR SALE

Title;    ''UNCLE''

Material;   Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired
                                        Clay is from Borneo
Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size;    6feet 6inches High including base
                              [ 2m.]

Finish;    Wax Dye, Acrylic Paint, Wood, Leather, Metal, Cloth                 and 24k Pearl Gold

Edition;    One Off ... No Copies Made
                      {Original Artists proof }

Year;    2010

For Sale

This work is sold as the original, Artists Proof.

There are no copies made.

A Certificate of Proof will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in purchasing this work for your collection

please contact me at .... deedaf@gmail.com

The Thinking Behind The Work ...

UNCLE

My work in clay has brought me into symbolism and realism because I am doing what the material allows me to do and I find there is no end to what can be done in clay and 'UNCLE' I feel is a good example of that. In the making of 'UNCLE' I worked from the bottom up, that is feet to head and at the time I had no idea that the sculpture was going to have Chinese features. By this time the sculpture was already moving in it's own direction and hence the name 'UNCLE'. The Chinese out of respect to an older person will call them Uncle and so the sculpture gave me the title.

You can see 'UNCLE' is a proud man by his stance and the tilt of his head in spite of his 'handicap' which I want to give the impression of an accident, maybe due to his work. By the goggles and the arm gloves 'UNCLE' is telling you he was a welder, a master welder and this I am showing by the goggles in 24K Pearl Gold. Half way down his body and in the left pocket there is a rose symbolic that he is a romantic and not angry with life in spite of his 'handicap'. The other pocket has a golden spoon with a 'death mask' symbolic that he had wealth in his time but lost it. The socks covering the stumps of his arms and the chop sticks is for the viewer to think in how 'UNCLE' feeds himself and do the basic functions that other human beings take for granted.

'UNCLE' is wearing one rubber boot with a fish head at the toe .. it is my symbolism in this sculpture for birth and death. We are born in water hence the rubber boot and the fish is symbolic of life but the fish head is death. His other foot is dealing with his childhood. He has a sock foot, symbolic of moving into life and the foot on the teddy bear is putting childhood things away. I am indicating that his childhood was not easy by the patch over one eye, symbolic that he kept one eye on the future and the other closed to his childhood and the 'peg-leg' meaning in his childhood there were also problems for him, that he did not walk through it. Also with the welder goggles he has one eye exposed keeping one eye on the future of what is left to him.

KELABIT MAN 'Pedera Ulun'

2011-02-26T16:11:00.009+08:00

FOR SALE

Title; KELABIT MAN 'PEDERA ULUN'

Life of Many Sadness

Material; Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired

Clay is from Borneo

Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; Life Size

Finish; Wax Dye and 24K Pearl Gold

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists proof }

Year; 2008

For Sale

This work is sold as the original, Artists Proof.

There are no copies made.

A Certificate of Proof will be provided and signed by the Artist.

If you are interested in purchasing this work for your collection

please contact me at .... deedaf@gmail.com

The Thinking Behind The Work ...

KELABIT MAN

This sculpture is not of a living person but of my observations of the Kelabit people who are an indigenous people of the Sarawak highlands in Borneo and where I have travelled to observe and make sculptures of these proud people who have a minority in the neighbouring state of Brunei. The elevation is slightly over 1,200 meters and there are few roads and the area is largely inaccessible by river because of rapids, but the situation is improving.

With a population of approximately 5,000 people, the Kelabit comprise one of the smallest ethnic groups in Sarawak. Many have migrated to urban areas over the last 20 years or so and it is estimated that only 1,800 still live in their remote homeland. They moved out mostly to get further education and to get jobs that suit their qualifications in towns and cities like Miri, Kuching, Sibu, Bintulu, Kuala Lumpur and other places overseas. Many are involved in a range of professional occupations today.

Their tightly knit communities live in inherited longhouses and practice a generations old form of agriculture. They are cultivators of wet paddy, hill rice, maize, tapioca, pineapple, pumpkin, cucumber, beans and fruit. Hunting and fishing is also practiced. Domesticated buffalo are valued highly, seven of which are traditionally required for the dowry for an upper class bride. In times past the Kelabit had to rely on bird and bird augury and dreams as guidance before beginning an important journey or starting the agriculture cycle. Certain rituals and practices were observed before commencing any undertakings. Sometimes these rituals required them to abandon a field that had been cleared for farming or leave their ripened rice to rot.

Over a century ago, the Kelabit were involved in head hunting raids, not so much for ritual purposes but as a means to prove one’s courage and bravery, and to get even with an enemy. Thus, a person who succeeded in head hunting exploits was hailed as a hero and looked upon as a role model for others. Stories of successful exploits are narrated in various forms of oral story and music.. During the Second World War the Kelabit, like other natives of Borneo, were co-opted by the Allies into fighting the Japanese and played an essential role in the liberation of Borneo. After the War this remote ethnic group received visits from Christian missionaries. The Kelabit are now predominantly Christian. Prior to conversion they were Pagan and very close to nature and it's ways. They had a custom of erecting megaliths in honour of notable individuals such as a headman or great warriors and spirits of the rain-forest

From my talking and staying with these people I found them to be very open and friendly and I am proud of meeting the first Kelabit man to become a school teacher who went back to the highlands to teach the next generation. He still dresses in the traditional ways of the Kelabit, in fact his appearance is not to far off my sculpture.

BEETHOVEN

2011-02-25T14:36:00.008+08:00

~~FOR SALE~~

SOLD
Private Collection Borneo

Title; BEETHOVEN

Material; Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired

Clay is from Borneo
Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; Life Size

Finish; Wax Dye

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists proof }

Year; 2008

For Sale

This work is sold as the original, Artists Proof.
There are no copies made.
A Certificate of Proof will be provided and signed by the Artist.
Copyright remains with the Artist.
If you are interested in purchasing this work for your collection
please contact me at .... deedaf@gmail.com

VENETIAN LADY

2011-02-23T21:04:00.004+08:00

FOR SALE

Title; VENETIAN LADY

Material; Coil-built Ball Clay Electric High-Fired

Clay is from Borneo
Ball clays are relatively scarce deposits due to the combination of geological factors needed for their formation and preservation.

Size; 29 inches High [ 0.7366 m ]

Finish; Wax Dye, Acrylic Paint, Wood and 24K Pearl Gold

Edition; One Off ... No Copies Made

{Original Artists proof }

Year; 2009

For Sale

The Thinking Behind The Work ....

VENETIAN LADY
Like most of my work this sculpture developed in the making. I wanted to show women strong in mind and yet feminine, in controle and birth. The machine like fish with a cockerel head held in tight grip under her arm is symbolic of man's sexuality and she's in controle of the future generation both under her arm and in her tummy. Her helmet is her confidence and protection with engraved design of a butterfly from birth to death. In viewing this work I would like to hope the viewer will have the impression of the Venetian ladies of the 15th century then the sculpture plays on the mind.

THE WAITING ROOM

2011-01-13T18:55:00.000+08:00

''Next.''

THE WAITING ROOM

''Next ...''

It was a terrible blinding light and he was pulled in,

somehow it meant safety to him.

The sign was now green,

a voice said ...

''When the sign is green I could go in but wait to be called.'' ... He remembered that being said to him
and that's all he remembered ...
him now standing before Him ...

and then the thought of the old belief flashed in
that the soul lingers near the body for a few days after death,

definitely bewildered, unsure and lost, in a void,

waiting nervously for a sign ..

maybe like this green sign,
a sign to indicate 'go' ... but 'go' where,
none-the-less ... lost ...
and that is all ... lost until called,

and now here they are.
So when ten thousand lives are viewed
they are like the reflection of the moon in the water,
but who has he been.

He looked down from somewhere at his white hair and white skin starting to turn steel gray in color and he thought that maybe at one time he might have been a fair human being but he would not have known that because he did not know himself now ...

if there was such a time it was in another time,
another life that he now forgets,

and now here he is,
standing before Him.

''You again ... what is it,''

He asked ..

''What is it you want ... you would think I have all the time in the world for this.?''

''O God,''

he said ..

''Everything as before, I want to go back to that life as it was before.''

''Everything ... you are not asking for too much ... you don't think it's a bit late for this request, and I take it it's just a request ... you can't be that silly or naive ... but I am afraid that cannot be, you have been called, this is your time according to the contract I have here in my hand ... you see my hand and you see the contract, well it's all down here in black and white ... this is your time and that is your details ... came up fast on you, didn't it, you thought you had time on your side to patch things up, to make amends but the contract states here in my own writing and your mark that this is your time and 'that' life is finished with now ... but you can go back to another life and time because you have many more lives to live and learn before your journey is complete, the human mind can only imagine a tiny fraction of what you are in all of this ... what will I call it, 'Game' ... but stored in you and safe from your own small mind you have all the knowledge and experiences of your past lives and all of the answers to everything, it's all for building you up to mature fully into the immense, and I do mean, the immense consciousness of the universe ... imagine that, is this a good 'game' or not ... and you are the only player, and of course, Me too ... but that's our little secret ... are you testing me when you asked for ... Everything.?''

''I don't remember anything now or from the past ... why am I being reincarnated ... what's the point, why I have to go through the agony and the ecstasy of it all again and again and again and again ... why.?''

''Stop whining ... If you don't remember how would you know it's agony and ecstasy and why are you asking me 'Why' ... you know 'Why' but you just don't remember right now but if you stay here long enough you will begin to remember and that's not playing the 'Game' ... you are slipping away now, on your way back, back to another life, as requested by you and granted by my good self, but the time will come when all will be revealed to you and you too will be like Me and Yahweh and all the other names you gave Me, but you don't remember that right now ... but did we have fun in making up all of those names ... ''just to add to the confusion it will cause them {you} in trying to work it all out'' ... your very own words, and we had a good laugh over that ...

'Why' ...

I will tell you again and again because my toleration for you is quite high in this 'Game' and besides I made you and like a parent for a child toleration is a must, and you are my child .... but you will not remember because you cannot cope with it if you were to know, it would be too much for you to carry around with you from life to life and then all the fun in the 'Game' will be gone ... so lets be stereotypical in this, and we are very stereotypical in all things, and besides, I like to hear myself talk of the plans I laid down, sorry ...'WE' laid down for the rules of this never ending 'Game' we are part of till the end of your time as you know it .... you will like this one when I tell you and it might even bring a smile to your face ... you need to lighten-up here ... not be so sad looking.

Every act of kindness and badness you have done, you have done it to yourself, every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human being was or will be in any one time or all together will and always will be experienced by you ... you are everyone that ever was and ever will be, the king and the dictator, the priest and the imam, the rabbi, the book thumping preacher, the missionary and the lay-man who both feel that every soul they save is a plus for them ... all who claim I am their 'God' and that theirs is the one and only true religion and all claim they speak for me ... we will leave them with their beliefs for man will always find it hard to mend his ways and change his rights or wrongs ... but lets not forget the scientist who wants to believe in evolution for this he can prove but a proof that a 'God' exists is little more complex and harder to show solid evidence and where would we be without the artist in all of this mayhem, he feels, but not all mind you, that he stands away from all of this as he is the free-thinker-freewill-observer for all of mankind ... I could go on but I should hope you have the idea in what's involved here ... and here's the punch line, this will really throw you ... yes, you were all of these in the past, present and the future .. it's only you and me in all of this but it took a long time for you to get to where you are now and some time far off from this time it will all seem so simple to you what I am telling you now but all in good time for together we cut into stone the rules for the future 'Game Plan' ... you don't remember, that's also in the 'Game Plan' ...

'Why' ...

Because you are all things and on your way to becoming a 'God' ...

don't you want to be like Me, all powerful, loved and feared by all, tell me, but then again I don't really care what you think ... is that not the be-all-and-end-all-mother-of-all-power-control-freaking- situations to be in ... rivers of ink and blood ... yours, have and will flow in my name and this too will all be yours ... this is the 'End Game Plan' ... needless to say human beings do insane things in the name of their faith and thinking they are pleasing Me ... sometimes the 'Game' can get out of control but who is in control here and need I remind you that I have told you in the beginning when we were in the garden that when I made you from clay and even made for you a companion from your own body, the female likeness of yourself ... I will not interfere, not now and not in the future ... but you seem to think all this is in my name and that's where you have it all twisted like a tornado out of control ... and the rules bend like a tree in the wind and then, broken, like a promise ... remember ... any questions? .... no, don't answer, don't even think about it.

'Why' ...

The answer to this question is quite obvious now ... you need me so you can have a GOD and I need you to be GOD ... that's the short answer.''

He died in fear,
on his own, angry and bitter,

feeling cheated by life and God.

''Next''

THE WAITING ROOM

''Next ...''

It was a terrible blinding light and he was pulled in,

somehow it meant safety to him.

The sign was now green.

He said ...

''You again .... what is it now.?''

''O God,''
he said ..
''Everything as before, I want to go back to that life as it was
before.''

''Everything ... as before ... you are not asking for too much ...
and you are testing me now but I am a 'Good God' and so I will help you ... again.

If you know exactly where you have been

and know exactly how you arrived here

then you will know exactly

how to get back everything as it was before.''

~~The End.~~

~~The Finish.~~

~~The Conclusion.~~

''It is not even the beginning, to be continued '' ....

THE BIGGER PICTURE.

2010-11-30T20:58:00.002+08:00

''For those people who are struggling for
physical or mental survival in their lives,
there is another Human Being
doing the very same thing
not far from you at this time.''

Not just another day .....

''Ned ... please .. turn around and look at me, I want to help you, you can't go on like this on your own .. I know this is hard on you, but if I can say my piece here, and I have been thinking about it now for quite some while but, figuratively, literally, metaphorically, any way you want to look at it, it's all still B.S. and trying to run from it won't help you in any way. You can turn it inside-out-upside-down if you feel better about it but there is nothing you can do about the past, except at the best of times maybe keep it there, but remember Ned I am not trying to hurt you with my words, you are already hurt enough as it is, God knows, and we can move on in time hard as it is but it takes effort physically and mentally to live with the pain of keeping it all locked up inside Ned and in the natural course of pain it can kill you many times over if you do not let it go. Please Ned, I need you to open up to me, you have to talk to help me to help me to get to grips with what's going on here ... This is Nina. You have got to tell me ...
What happened to you out there
on your last assignment ...

I want to help you Ned ... please

Ned, thirty eight years old and looking much older this time for his age since his return sat outside in the rehab grounds in the warm morning sun. It was his second time in rehab this year, and it was only mid June now, if there is a third time he may not be so lucky, lucky that is if he is remotely alive to stay alive. This time he was found unconscious in the bathroom come office of his rented

one bedroom house by Nina, once wife and now ex-wife but both still in 'good friends' talking stage. The marriage was a mistake. They were the best of friends from early collage days. They were always close from the first day in meeting each other in the coffee house when Ned caught her eye
watching him and within the next minute she was sitting beside him
and from that day, they were rarely apart day or night.

Everybody thought they were the 'perfect couple' together

but marriage and being married was not the same thing for Ned, he saw and lived through the hell his own parents went living through. He could not handle the everyday 'thing' of having to hide behind his 'I told you so' thoughts, and in that he had that 'fear' it would be the same for him as it was for his parents, he was like his father in so many ways that it haunted him day and night but Nina knew Ned was like this before they hitched-up two years ago 24/7 'till-death-do-us-apart' and now he had to listen to her non-stop-kick-ass every day words that were the truth and he knew it, but right now she was trying to pull Ned back from the edge, what ever it took. So what, if he felt the 'words' were hurting deep, but without fail and in time they either sink-in or fade away into that 'no memory' zone in the brain, that part where we file away the parts we hate about ourselves. Ned was a problem to himself and apart from being content with himself in feeling comfortable in his 'do or die' thoughts which he put into action at the times when he least expected. He was a perfectionist in his work but he didn't see it that way. He could be dumb-as-a-plum but when he was working on all his creative 'juice' you could not keep up with him ... hell, he couldn't even keep up with himself ... it a was a fine-line he was crossing over each time. There were days and nights and if not sometimes weeks that could run into months where he was living-out his creativity in 'real life'. The memories were coming in too often now. He was running on free-flow-micro-waved-turbo thoughts coming in loud and clear as if he was back there in the thick of the action. With no remote-controle-button to turn on or off, Ned was one way or the other either in 'reverse' or moving 'forward' at top speed. It was hard to tell at times where he was in the real world physically in his body and where he was in his mind mentally ... he didn't know most of the time himself. He kept moving from one assignment to another and sometimes without letting Nina know and this would piss her off because she cared about him too much, but he didn't see it that way. He was on a self imposed quest and so long as he was with the camera and in the thick of the action there was nothing else literally that mattered at that time. He took on any assignment and went into any situation, regardless for the safety for his own life, which never came into the equation anyway. Some say he was on a suicide-run and took too many risks with his own life, bad enough that people were dying all around him and that he wanted to document it as it was, but it all came with a big personal price. When he was off assignment he could not handle the normal everyday things because of the non-stop-pop-up memories ... so, it was the booze to forget and the tabs to sleep or stay awake. Day and night were one. He was driven to capture that 'picture' that would put him at the top, just like it had done for his father, but his father lost his life in capturing that 'event in time'. He was caught in a 'cross fire' of bullets in another power and greed war in a smaller country on a big continent unheard of before by most people who pride themselves in keeping up with world events ... but if this little 'in-house' war was to spill out into the rest of the world as a political mud slinging match there would be some heads rolling in other 'big-say' foreign power countries that would have had an interest in starting that war in the first place and to keep other foreign powers from moving in and setting up 'shop'. What ever it took to move their 'players' into the arena for their own interests of greed,
and total power control ...
There was no shortage of
bad money for war.

Ned's father went into countries like this and it was only after when they found and developed

his father's film from his damage camera after he had fallen

on it and washed the blood out did they find the picture that would put his name into the all time 'great photos in action' ... but it was not just that 'picture' Ned was after, he was trying to live up to what he expected was his fathers reputation. The truth is, and Ned was to keep denying it to himself all the time, is that he was constantly bridging the gap between the world of external reality and the inner world of his mind. He wanted to feel that his life was worth living. It was a deep rooted complex relationship he had between himself, depression and creative achievement, also his self imposed regime with his life and his expectations of what he thought his father might have expected from his only son, it was Ned stepping in and acting out the role of his father and not as himself. He was playing out to all his expectations his endless mind-game in seeking an understanding and new

connections for himself in the world and at the same time trying to satisfy a hunger for understanding his own

creativity within his mind ... a tall order to full-fill. He was setting the bar too high for everything in his life and all of this was because Ned created Ned. All the 'balls' were up in the air and he only had two hands and the way he saw it ..
they were for holding the camera.
This was the Ned sitting in the Rehab grounds
and trying his best to focus on Nina
and what she was saying.

Nina put her small hand on his knee and Ned slowly turning his head looked down at her hand as if it was a new experience for him. She leaned towards him and just stopped short of wanting to put her arms around him to comfort him, which she really wanted to do but she knew he could reject her concern for him. She knew too that he needed love and understanding now. He was already two weeks in rehab but this was his first day outside in the grounds, at least he wanted to go outside when Nina arrived on her almost daily visits to him. It was a good sign too, she felt he was starting to improve and coming to terms with himself and what had happened and this was what she was telling herself now as the two of them sat together as if on their first date, but their first date was a little more fiery than this now ... but there was more to it than what she had thought when she looked into Ned's eyes,
he was lost in his thoughts and she was lost as to what to do
so she was going to follow her intuition on this one ...
she thought as she gave him
a reassuring smile.

''Tell me the truth Ned ... what happened ...
why didn't you phone me, what's wrong with picking up the phone, you know dame well I would come over to you even if it's the other side of town, but that was your choice ... you wanted to move to be near the airport in case you had to get a flight out quickly for your assignment, I can understand that Ned but you do remember you collapsed into a heap onto the floor ... you fell over like a rag-doll, passed out into never-never land, just like the other times from exhaustion .. is that where you wanted to go Ned ... never-never land, Ned you have to face 'it' .... the booze and the tabs are not the answer if you still want to stay in your body and be 'that artist' you are always talking about, 'that artist' Ned ... remember your dream, well make it happen Ned .. I don't want you as a memory in my life. I want to see you with what is rightfully yours Ned by destiny .. yours. Your name, you yourself Ned, is good in the business, you don't have to keep trying to be your father Ned ... though events seem to pass on and repeat themselves in the next generation. Look Ned, I am certain he would be very proud of you and your achievements to date. You know it that people can rely on you for something unique and different in your photographs, you have the 'third eye' Ned, you always said you had the 'third eye' once that camera was in your hands. Please Ned ...
Talk to me about your last trip out ..
Talk to me.''

Nina just hoped some of her words would sink in and jolt him back into the here and now to her ... if not he will go deep inside himself like before and start looking into the bottom of a bottle and that's getting harder each time for Ned to recover from that stage. He saw his father doing it and he could handle it better but maybe did not live long enough for time to tell that story, but what his father did know was his already fragile marriage was on the slippy slope and only because he was always on assignment and never there for her or Ned but she could not understand why her husband wanted to do what he did for a living. Her world was centered around her church and keeping a home together while Ned's father was doing what he did best but he died at the age of thirty eight, before home and church played any real part in his life. He was the same age as Ned is now. Died, not from tipping the bottle to the head but from the bullet fired from a gun, designed manufactured and supplied by his own country. His red blood seeping into a foreign red earth that already had it's fair share of blood. He died slow enough for him to die in more guilt than pain, of not giving 'normal life' a chance or spending more of his short time with his young son than the sharp stinging pain of a bullet in his right lung, snatching and denying him another chance at the 'normal life' ... but he was doing what he was born to do and his time was now ... he had done what he had come to do and regret-piled-on-guilt had no place here now in this foreign land with it's seeped-in-blood red earth.
He did not see the 'bigger picture' ..
He was just being human in his
dying.

Ned could hear the birds singing to their mates in the grounds of the rehab just like Nina was to her soul-mate, but Ned was scared of commitments. He saw relationships for 'other normal people', not for the one who lived in his own world of roller-coaster rides in his mind. He loved Nina but the whole marriage thing scared him and he saw too much dying around him in the lens of his camera that it made him detached from the world and to make commitments like marriage in his own life was not 'real' for him. Nina thought by getting married Ned would come good, but it all back fired on her. Ned was the 'wild card', an 'ace' in the eyes of his lover, and so he was as Nina saw him, but she loved him and always will .. married or not ..
what's a 'piece of paper' between true feelings.
She tried to tell herself this in the hope that she and Ned
would spend sometime together
when he came out from
Rehab.

Ned turned so that his back was to Nina to look at the trees, her hand slipped off his knee ..
he was making pictures in his mind so that when he want back inside he could scroll through them just like a computer file and that was Ned's thing ... everything went on-file in his mind to scroll through at a later date at will, but the reality was, and there was no getting away from it, he wanted out of all the personal mess he created for himself and Nina and maybe for the first time was admitting to himself that he was wasting away his life in trying to be his father in more ways that he was prepared to admit to himself on any given normal day.
The truth of it all was starting to kick-in,
like a steel-toed-boot
in his groin ...

''It's true what you say, I cannot keep walking away from what happened.''

His back was still turned to Nina, he didn't want to
brake-down and cry, even though it's what she would have hoped for and maybe for him to realise he was 'slow-drip' killing himself this way, reliving the the memory ...

''I can do nothing about the past events and my own lies to myself are tripping me up, fooling my mind into believing I need all this shit I keep throwing into myself to be in my own world of make believe and maybe I am stopping my own 'flow' with it all but lets face it, you knew when I came back from my last assignment I was already addict to these pain killers and antidepressants after taking that bullet in the shoulder and leg, shit, I nearly lost the leg but for that Arab boy. If he had not had found me
I was a goner ... I owe him my life ...
and this time Nina .. I did not try to do myself in ..
you do believe me ...
don't you.? ''

Nina looked at Ned and knew he was telling the truth on that one but he was still holding out
on her ... something else happened out there.

''Yes Ned, I believe you and you are now starting to come to terms with yourself ... listen to yourself .... you are starting to talk about it but you are better than this 'person' you have become, walk away from it, I know you can do it and I will be here for you ... forget the past, forget about we ever got hitched, I know now it's not meant for you ... forget about that war and what ever happened to you out there, I know it will not be easy,
but I will still stand by you through all of this ..
you have no worries there, you know that ...
maybe I owe it to you from a past life,
Karma and all that B.S. ...
where would we be without B.S. ...
O.K. and no .... don't answer.''

Ned turned around ... like a ballerina dancer on a music box to face Nina, no longer with that dazed look in his eyes but with keen seriousness,
and said ...

''If only resurrection was that easy ... but Nina,
it's not that easy and what you said is only part of it but that Arab boy died in saving me, I am telling you it now. They, his own people shot him in the back because he was helping me to a safe place but when I saw his face looking down at me and trying to pull me to stand up, I swear it, he could have been my father Nina, I knew it was him ... it's going to haunt me till my dying day and I will never know why that Arab boy came out of nowhere and risked his life to help save mine. I was the foreigner in his country looking for that 'picture' using other peoples suffering to capture that 'picture', I had hopes in my life built on other peoples sufferings,
but I now feel my father's spirit was there in that boy,
to save me, and most likely ...
save me from myself.''

Nina could see with her eyes
but heard it in his words that there was a change already coming over Ned. A life moving change in that he was looking back into his past and maybe looking ahead but she was quite certain that he was looking deep 'inside' himself. The pieces of his 'jigsaw life'
were coming together now to show
the ugly truth as it was.

''Ned we can never tell what our life's journey is going to throw up in front of us, but in everyday we get through there is a lesson to be learned if only we open our eyes and heart to it and while I am on-the-fence here, it is more important to follow your 'dreams' through the so-called bad times. You are a good man Ned and I feel that is why you are given another day another chance to document the 'wrongs' of this world for that boy, and as for that 'picture' which is still out there waiting to be captured by you, maybe your father will be at your side. Every single day Ned great things are done by ordinary people ... as for you, you have a talent and you use it for the greater things that can be done for those people. You know it Ned, you know now where you are going in your life because you know where you have been and what you have gone through and you know exactly now how you came to be here ...
it is no one's destiny to fail in their life's journey Ned ..
I sound like a bloody 'guru' talking to you,
shut me up ... quick.''

Ned for the first time in his life had his eyes-wide-open to the 'bigger picture' and peacefully being himself with himself .. he pulled Nina closer to him
in knowing that his father was not that far away from him
now ...
and maybe never was
at any one time in his
life.

The making of 'WISE'

2010-10-04T12:36:00.002+08:00

WISE

Carved from sandstone ' Mu Wen Sha Yan' .... ' Wooden Wave Stone'

Yunnan Province in Southwest China

2006

4m High

1m 10 Face

1m 40 Side

Private Collection Ireland

The making of WISE

The carving of the sculpture 'WISE' came to me as a private commission. My client was quite sure as to what he wanted as a sculpture to be sited in his garden. My brief was to make a sculpture to represent something on the lines of the Easter Island heads that are carved in stone. These are monolithic human figures and heads carved from stone on the Polynesian island known as Easter island, off the coast of Chile and were carved between the years 1250 and 1500. The tallest is almost 10 metres (33 ft) high and weighed 75 tonnes the heaviest erected was a shorter but squatter weighing 86 tons; and one unfinished stone, if completed, would have been approximately 21 metres (69 ft) tall with a weight of about 270 tons. These stones were carved by teams of craftsmen and were carved over long periods of time but for my own sculpture I was allowing myself three months to finish carving my stone working up to ten hours a day and for WISE to be sited in it's new home.

After viewing my clients gardens a site was chosen for the finished sculpture and I set about making a model to scale. The choice of stone was left to me and I chose a Sandstone from Yunnan Province in Southwest China. This sandstone was suitable for outdoors due to it's hardness and the stone had a very distinctive grain in it that looked like wood-grain when wet which my client liked because of his passion for trees and therefore I ordered the stone in December 2005 in two blocks. My reason for this was due to transport on the roads and lifting into site by crane but makes for carving more difficult in controlling the 'line'.

The two blocks arrived into Ireland in March 2006 by sea ... and I began to work. Sandstone is very high in silica and when cutting causes a lot of fine dust that at times you feel you are working in a sandstorm which it is. The blocks were carved separate, that is standing apart but side by side to allow me to move from stone to stone while carving and then doweled on site and finished. I allowed myself three months to make and deliver to site, a little too tight a deadline working on my own but work-work-work and it can be done. It was delivered and sited on the appointed time to my client's satisfaction and mine too.

My reason in naming the sculpture ''WISE'' was because of my client. I found him to be a wise and humble man and to this day he does not know the true reason as to why the sculpture is called 'WISE' but when I presented my working model to him and told him the title I said, when he asked why ''WISE'' for the title, my answer to him was because it looks 'WISE'. When an Artist finds a client who allows the Artist to 'listen to the stone' and be that Artist ... he is ''WISE''

Me standing between the two blocks on the first day of carving

The top part in the process of being carved using a combination of hand tools and angle
grinder to remove the waste.

The bottom part being worked.

It is at times like this that you have to
keep it all together ....

to get to this stage.

The two parts of WISE in progress.

Stone waste from working the two blocks.

Concrete base for WISE, poured on site.

WISE being lifted in by crane over the tree tops to it's new home...

it was placed into position by myself and the crane operator using walkie-talkie.

It took a great deal of skill on the part of the crane operator to line up the two stones without damage.

WISE in position on it's concrete base
You will notice the overhang of stone when the two stones are put into place this is to allow me to carve the two stones to mach up and finish.

Side view to WISE before I started work on matching up the two stones.

You can see from the photograph that I made a platform around WISE to finish the carving. This was the only time in working the two stones that I had seen them placed together.

Wise

Me looking up at WISE and very likely thinking how I got to

this stage .... but the self satisfaction cannot be described ....

you have to try it for yourself.

The face looking down at you from inside the nose was an after thought on my part and came about when I was standing at the stone and looking up at it. It was to act as a surprise element when you were looking up at the stone because it is not seen when approaching the stone or from any side. This is where my client gave me my 'artistic licence' to be the artist for it was not part of the original model.

SIN and SIM

2010-09-10T17:36:00.000+08:00

There will be no Remission

for the sins of their Commission

and for the sins of their Omission

for there is no Admission.

He knew he was hearing 'Them'. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference from 'Them' and from the reality of his day-to-day damned-existence, but he had an idea all the same as to where they might be coming from ... but it was just an idea in his head, hidden somewhere in that part of his brain that was still in contact with him ... just an idea, nothing more ... [or] ... it's maybe very possible that it could be a memory from the past ... it was something he also did not disregard but it was something that scared him more than the 'idea' theory.
A memory took place, sometime in his past, it had an action which brought on results at the time then to be stored in that part of the brain department for 'memories' to become at a later date a recollection passing through his mind that brings up the emotions that have a reaction that can stay for long dark days with him and even darker nights with no end to them ... and that's what really scared him ... an 'idea' he could cope with within his reason, but the 'memory', that was another thing altogether, that brought up the fear in him to the point of no-return and that very same 'memory' now taking over his whole being could turn on him, without any warning, rouge and savage, becoming a brutal force of it's own and one to be reckoned with that blows his-self-pitying-life wide open to Kingdom Come ... a terrifying potential of the 'going-over-the-edge' kind with the easily predictable outcome.

''Do you see or hear 'Them' ?''....

''I don't know ... I am still trying to get my head around it all as to what kind of day it was, but it was like a day that didn't exist, or you would wish it didn't. It was a day of numbness, no smells and none of the senses working, but a lot of hurtful words were said, in-there-out-there-in-the-garden, words that were loaded with pain.
I can almost tell the day by the smell of the air and the time by the light in the garden ... now it's hard to explain in words but it's something inside you that seems to rise in your body, like instinct, and without giving it thought. Without being aware of it you 'feel' it's a Monday or a 'someday' by that sense of smell and light ... but to go through a day that you feel you do not belong in, no part of it ... well that's something entirely different from normal ... it is like being 'punch-drunk', or on antidepressants ... you are just not there at all ... your umbilical line to your soul is the only life-line you have got on that day.''

''Do you hear 'Them' ?''

                           The jumble of words just came out of Adam's closed mouth in a mad rush like a wild dog let lose and to quick to make any sense of if you were to overhear them. He wasn't asked, the words came out ... nobody asked him ... there was nobody around to ask him, that could be seen that is ... but that was O.K. with Adam ... for now. The most part of his time was spent on his own in the garden ... that way he felt he could handle 'life' better, at least to keep himself alive to hear some answers to the questions he was asking, that's if they were going to be answered and that's what he keeps telling himself over and over in his mind.
''Answers ... I want some answers ...we deserve that ... they deserve that ... I deserve that ... some answers as to 'why' ... why so much pain ... did I ask to be born into all of this ever-lasting-pain from one lifetime into the next ... 'You' created me ... 'You' answer me ... I do deserve that much ... but in time I will have to answer to 'You' ... 'You', that has all the answers ... 'why'.''
But they were not coming from Him because Him is not answering him anymore and it's Him ... 'Him above' that Adam wants to talk too ... to try to explain how that day of all days in the garden was for them, the only two of their kind, naked like innocent children with no shame, that was to come later, the shame ... created for no other reason but for His own amusement ... because He can.
And it came. The pitch black darkness that overcast the sky like a wet blanket putting out a blazing fire ... it's decaying chocking smell taking away the fresh sweetness of the garden in one clean sweep of it's crawling dense blackness and death-smell seeping into everything that was alive ... and how they fell to their knees clinging on to each other for protection like the frightened innocent little children they were, when, from somewhere in the tree it started to 'talk' and 'Evil' showed it's ugly face to them. They could not see Him for His comfort to reassure them that he was only 'testing' them for their 'Love for Him' ... they were not prepared for anything like this happening to them and now He was not there in the garden for them at that time for their salvation within temptation. He had provided all for them in the garden ... all except the fruit from the tree ... the only fruit in the garden they were not to eat ... but children being children anything can and will happen even when they have all ... they want it all  regardless of the fall.

Adam found it hard to cope with the everyday responsibility of just living, downtrodden to despair, and he was afraid of it. It was a day-in-night-out-trap-situation. He felt he was in a strangulation, swinging like a pendulum gathering up speed to do the full circle to be released like a sling shot and fly off to a place of no return. He hoped that it might just all go away and he will wake up back in the garden under the tree as if it was all a very bad dream that got out of hand and turned into a nightmare that turned into a bloody daylight living ordeal that was to become the normal kind. It did not have to be like this but he had no say in the matter, then or now, it was all up to Him but He was not answering ... not this day anyway ... but Adam stayed on in his pain, breathing stale air in and out because of his Sin of Admission. Life is and will always be, unforgiving ... it was how he believed it to be for no answers were coming. He was fully 'fledged-by-birth' for the submission but not prepared for the Commission.

''Maybe it was a blackout I had or maybe it was ..... but come to think of it I haven't had a blackout for some time now, in fact not since that time in the garden, so long ago that it feels like in another lifetime ... so did 'that day' happen ... maybe and maybe not, who's to tell and who's going to tell ... besides Him ... I can't, I just have memories ... there's nobody to tell me ... only Him ... it's only me now to answer to me, so if me can't tell me, that's it then ... me-no-can-tell ... only Him-can-tell.''

''Do you hear 'Them' ?''

Adam was a good man by all accounts and He was pleased with His creation ... but faith did not deal him a good hand him being the First-Man and maybe because of the name. He was most unlucky that day in the garden ... right place wrong time. He trusted her and he trusted Him, without question, and for trusting he ended up on the rocks like a broken shipwreck that he was to become for future generations to relive that day like puss oozing from a sore on a lepers leg. It was to mark him like a brand on his back that would burn into him just for the Hell-of-it ... shit ... it's what 'brands' do ... for the Admission of Sin ... his sins ... sins that kept in touch with him, reminding him for every bleeding-breathing second of the day ... for what reason he was never told about 'sin' even though he had tried over the long dark years to deny 'Them' any remission but they don't bother to return their admission ... for it's their commission too ... but he tried, and how he tried ... only He above knows how he tried.
Adam took all this very-very personal, and why not, he alone was carrying all the guilt of his own sin for the future fathers will also carry that guilt and future mothers will help to give birth too for all to burden the loss of Eden.

''Do you hear 'Them' ?''

''This is something I think about ... you see it in films ... you know ... the bit where it comes he is going to take his own life and he is standing at the shore line or at the edge of the lake, his back to the camera, and him looking out at the horizon ... have you noticed, it's always a male in the situation, well ... nearly always ... with his clothes neatly stacked beside him, and the shoes ... ah the shoes, this is the bit I love ... the shoes always polished and placed side-by-side facing in the direction he is looking, symbolically telling you in which direction he went, that scene alone tells it all. The film could end there because you know how it all ends and you are not disappointed, in fact you are quite pleased with yourself because you think you came up with the ending before the director or writer did ... get a life man, [ah, nice touch there]. I often thought about that scene in films for it tells me one thing and one thing only, he did not want to take his own life ... why ... the neatly folded clothes and the shoes, that's why, nobody folds their clothes like that unless they are going into a suitcase and very few people might do it before going to bed each night and if they do ... it's because maybe they have the same feeling that it's possible that they won't wake up in the morning and they want things to at least look right when they are found in the bed ... dead, that is, dead ... but to do it all before doing away with yourself, I just find it hard to accept. It's like giving out the message to those who find the clothes that ....
'I have taken my own life but I didn't really want to do it, look here, can't you see how neatly I have left my clothes, that alone should tell you I didn't want to do it and besides what is 'freewill' if I can't put it into practice.' ''

''I hear 'Them' now all the time.''

Adam is sitting, knees to his chest on the granite rock looking out at the blue-green sea like the child that he is. He has been there all the gray-day long and maybe even longer that the seagulls pay him no attention anymore ... they gave up on him long ago ... even before he came to this place. The sun is trying it's best to be warm on his back as if it's trying to comfort him that little extra on this day-of-all-days. Nature's little reassurances of what 'love' is like when all is well in your world, but all is not well in his world and all is not well in His world for there is not a soul in the sweet smelling garden He created.

Adam's mobile rings ... he reaches inside his pocket for it. None of your silly jingles here. A straight-forward-no-nonsense-ring-tone ... burr, burr ... burr, burr ... burr, burr ... he flips and He flips ...

''How are you.''

''O.K.''

''Where are you now.''

''On the coast.''

''Are you O.K.''

''O.K.''

''Are you coming home ... we can sit out in the garden under the apple tree like old times ... you remember how it was before all this happened.''

''Soon, I just want to sit here for a while.''

''O.K., but .... please come home, we can talk ... I know very well you are hurt deep Adam.''

''Yea ... we can talk, but what good is that going to do now ... tell me ... do you see 'Them' now.?''

And he flips.
His toleration had gone at times beyond the requirements of toleration and this was one of the many times he had forgiven her.
And He flips.

Adam is tired. Tired of her mood swings and the control she has over him. Tired of the sick feeling he gets in his stomach when they row about that day and that feels like every day now to him. Tired of the whole living bit. Tired of having to auto-eat to puke it up each day to stop the hunger pain in his gurgling knotted stomach ... he does not look at food as food as a means to keep himself alive, but as the 'Sin of Glutton'. He is tired of the daily struggle to keep things together. Tired of asking himself questions with no answers coming from outside, but from 'Them', and not ... Him. Tired of telling himself that tomorrow will be a better day but tomorrow is already here and it's no different from any other bloody-day. Tired of the 'talks' and tired of talking to himself ... and to 'Them', and not ... Him. Tired of waiting. Tired of trying. Tired of it all. Just tired. Only He knows how tried he is, and tired of 'Them', and waiting for Him to answer ... but no more ... for the stroke of the whip can cut deep marks into the flesh but the stroke of the tongue can shatter the soul for eternity and for the mind never to reflect again.

''Fuck this and fuck the neatly folded clothes bit ... I'm going for a walk ... to Him and not with 'Them' ... but to Him since He is not coming to me ... back to that garden with my Admission. A straight-forward-no-nonsense-walk into the deep blue with Him waiting for me in the sweet smelling garden.''

Eve was waiting too ... waited with the phone in her hand. It never left her right hand, day or night ... that phone ... her contact ... contact to Adam. She's laughing that nervous laugh of hers and always when she was on her phone to Adam. She can hear the waves now all around herself. She can smell the salt from the sea. There is the taste of salt-water, water inside her mouth and somewhere else inside her body burning her up like acid ... you could hear the gurgling sound, almost like the waves she is hearing on the phone but with more softness in them and the pungent smell of decay in the air hanging like damp mist but the voices inside that phone of hers continued to argue, like the 'Hitchcock-birds'.

''That's it ... keep arguing ... keep it going, non-stop-shop-talk ... continuing the debate on the sins of their commission and the sins of their omission but there will be no remission because there is no admission to the non-stop-debate-till-death about that 'sin' in the garden ... like the demented little children you are.''

If only she could stop the talk, could stop 'Them' ... but she has long since forgotten how to turn it off and turn 'Them' off and He knows it ... but He hears it all, her cries for forgiveness ... but no-answers are coming from Him ... and no more toleration from him ... not on this day anyway.

''You are not seeing 'Them'... it's not a question it's an answer. Do you know you were found out in the garden hugging that apple tree crying and speaking 'gibberish' and calling at the height of your voice for someone by the name of Adam ... look in my direction, are you or are you understanding me what I am saying to you.?''

''I'm getting used to it, I guess, doe's that answer your question, doe's it mean I can turn it off ... the phone, why are you so hard on me. I talk to Adam all the time about sin ... do you see 'Them' ... do you want to talk to 'Them' about the 'sin' ... we all have that 'sin', we can't run from it and He is not forgiving, not today anyway ... please find my Adam ... I want to say I am sorry but 'sorry' will not be good enough ... I know it ... not this time.''

''Has she been medicated ?''

''You bet .... like a rabid dog.''

''Family .... and what about this Adam she is talking about.?''

''Nothing we know off but talks all the time to him on that phone of hers as we have heard her, non stop talk, best of times not making any sense in her words. We believe he lives by the coast, so she says ... we are trying to contact him as best as we can but so far no luck, he might be her son, husband, friend, lover, could be anybody but we won't know that till we contact him.''

''I see ... you can take the phone from her now, she has no need for it here.''

''I think we should leave it with her, if you don't mind my saying, she has some comfort with it and besides there is no Sim card in it ... I checked it when she was sleeping ... she sure likes to talk into it though to this guy Adam, the sooner we can contact him we might get some answers, we don't have a name for her and she's not telling ... she tells us that if she tells us we will think she's mad ... her words.''

''Well ... O.K. ... but I thought she said Sin and not Sim.''

''If you ask me I see no difference in 'Sin' or 'Sim' ... they both hold memories.''

''Do you hear 'Them' too, I see and hear 'Them' now all around me, like ... like sparkling silver dots in front of my eyes ... I have 'memories' you know of that day in the garden and how we were put out by Him and how it hurt Adam deep, so deep ... he trusted and he trusted me ... I let him down ... but we are trying to find our way back to that beautiful garden ... but things will not be as before ... poor-poor-Adam. Do you want names and numbers, I have names and numbers too ... just ask, they are on the Sim card all keyed in ... names, numbers and memories ... everything is there ... it goes deep, and maybe, just maybe, but I doubt it very much, that you can contact Him ... but the hurt goes deep, it's not going to go away that easy ... it will always be there like a stain ... we are damaged souls to relive the pain for all time ... will Adam come back to me.?''

''O.Kkkkk ... full admittance till further notice from me and I want a daily report on her ... I have seen and heard enough but try to make contact with this guy Adam she is talking about. We will need to talk to him too and get some answers as to who she is and where this garden she is on about and let's hope it's all easily explained ... I hate the freaking paper work that goes with these cases.''

''I talk to Adam everyday on my phone ... everyday ... and everyday we talk about sin ... that 'sin' ... but I try to tell Adam that there will be no Remission for the sins of our Commission and for the sins of Omission because there is no Admission coming ... but my Adam lives in the hope we will all get back to the sweet smelling garden, poor-poor-Adam.''

''Who's next ...''

''Him ...''

''GOD, what is it with phones today and why all the Sim cards.?''

FILE NUMBER :- 0023-0007-1953-D

2010-07-31T01:38:00.007+08:00

WARNING

When you live your life in a world of illusion
it is good to know which door to open
to get back to
reality.

''It's what the sign read on the way in'' ....

I don't know how I got to be here ....

I don't know why I am here ....
I have never been in this room before,
why am I here ....

I think the wall in front of me has just changed colour,

it has done it again ... and again ....
why am I here,

this is not happening to me ....
maybe I am dreaming, asleep ....
and just about now I am going to wake up,
because I realised I was in a dream ....
I should just about be waking up now, I know this,
I have done this before,
many times ....
just as I have dreamt before,
many times ....

I have woken up before,
many times ....

why am I not awake now ... maybe I am ....

no ... still in this dream ... still in this room,
and that wall has just changed colour again,

there ... it's doing it again ....
I will wake up soon ....
that I know ....
what dream does my mind hold to lure me from this room,
when my mind abides nowhere,
but this room is not so bad,
not like some of the other rooms I have been in ....
maybe for eons,
it has a nice smell ....

smells like Lilac,
I love the sound of that word,

'Lilac'....
and the smell of that pale reddish purple flower,

the white is nice too but it was always the purple flower that did it for me ....

oh ... that wall ... all walls,
they now have the lilac colour ....
think blue,

now it has changed to blue ....
think green,

think forty shades of green ....
I now have forty shades of green in front of me,
swaying in and out that I feel I am 'connected' by origin
to the rain-forest with all this green in and around me ....

smells like it too,
'Connected' ....
heat and dampness hanging thick in the air,
that I feel I am being,
suffocated ....

don't like that word,
'suffocated' ....
feels as it sounds,
suffocating,
STOP ....
change that thought ....

Lilac ....
that's better,

now I have smell and colour ....
think red,
now I have colour and heat,

I know what's happening now ....
at-this-time-in-this-dream-in-this-room,
my thoughts become the reality,
reality in the illusion and that I have all my senses ....

have to be extra-extra careful here with my thoughts,
and what could happen,

my own thoughts could be the 'death' of me now,

my thoughts are my reality in the illusion ....

as I think there go 'I' ....

my thinking is not done by proxy ....
it's done by me,
as nothing exists apart from my mind ....

I have always done my own thinking and therefore
'I' feel 'I am' ....
leaving nothing behind,
this is where thought is useless,
for there is nowhere which is outside the mind ....

'Proxy',
sounds dirty, proxy ....

tell me you don't feel dirty when you say it ....

'proxy' ...
for such a small word with a dirty feeling to it,

it carries a lot of power when put into action ....
evil comes to the mind,
but in the mind can be destroyed ....

a nice thought now,
before I go down too far on that road
where I might find myself lost and not able to get back
to where ever I came from ....
but there is nowhere outside of my mind,

now that I know I can do anything and that the only limits are set by my own thoughts ....

this is the action of using my mind to produce thoughts,
or convert symbolic responses to stimuli ....
a broken mind will never reflect again,
unless you cherish an idle thought,

which brings to mind ....
'Virtual' ....

so can I tell myself that the virtual memory of my mind is allowing me to interact with my thoughts that are producing a virtual image that has the experience of being in a very real environment but created with my,

I would prefer to believe and do I have a choice,

my Subconscious Mind ....
for I have forgotten what I have learned,
but I practice what I will learn,

and that allows me to interact in causing changes,

not just 'changes',
but permanent changes,

as in physical state and mental state of mind

as I see fit ....
and do I have control over my destiny,

or is this a virtual game we are taken part in
unknown to ourselves ....
The Illusion ....

I think I can tell myself that,
as best as I see it for now

but all that could very well change,

like the thoughts that go with the emotions

that can bring on the thoughts,
like the bells that make no sound,

a virtual revolution of thoughts is having the essence or effect but not the appearance or form of the species

Homo Sapiens,
but that which is you in all it's glory and fullness ... complete,
The Reality ...The Illusion,

which brings to mind,
'Virtue' ....

we cannot have Homo Sapiens walking around without virtue,
they go hand in hand,

like Jack and Jill going up the hill ....

but you remember what happened to Jack and Jill,

they fell down from the hill ....

was it vice that brought Jack and Jill
down from the hill of Eden ....
stirred by the tempest of delusion ....
could very well have been,
vice .... if not ....
virtue had the 'Upper Hand' ....
where we return to our origin,
where all things are viewed as One,
The Reality ....

which brings to mind,
'Vice',

the dark side of virtue ....

destiny could mint a coin with the imprint of
virtue on one face and vice on the opposite face
and for each Homo Sapien
tossed the coin to decide on their
'life's journey' ....

virtue or vice ....
The Reality ....

I have Lilac in smell and in colour all around me,

I can assume I am now in my
'Comfort Zone',
The Illusion ....

'Zone' ....
nice sounding word,

has the 'feeling' when you say it,
as if in dragging it out into one long tone,
that you could use it in relaxing the mind
from all it's thoughts ....
zoneeeee ....
The Illusion ....

a white dove flew across the blue sky
and I thought how orderly the Universe is ....
The Reality ....

How did I get here ....

and where is 'here' ... this room ....

am I standing, sitting or lying down ....
can't tell,

I just know that I am here in this room that's like a box,

no windows no doors ....
will I live for a hundred years of my future life
in this room ... there is,
only-this-hour-in-this-day-in-this-time
there is nowhere which is outside the mind,
The Reality ....

so I can assume I am in my 'space',
created by my mind ....
that maybe I am 'dead' to all,
for peace of mind is disturbed
for no purpose to be gained
the activities of the mind
The Reality ....
and rid myself of conceptual thought
I can accomplish all things,
like the bird in the cage today
tomorrow flying above the clouds
like the mind set free
and I am now in a state of transition,
nothing exists apart from mind
that is where 'I am' ....
in 'transition',

moving from one 'state-of-mind' into another ....
eternally changing in this perfect contentment
of my Ignorance,
having no form or appearance,

now I know my physical state is 'dead',
and there is nowhere that I cannot go,
but my mind is 'alive' ....
nothing exists apart from mind,
this pure mind the source of all things
for there is nothing to be attained outside of the mind,
the result is a state of 'non-being'
if this were realized or attained
then I can call myself arrogant
for I cannot suppress my mind from all thinking
in that my thoughts are controlling the situation for the

'Continuous Transition'
of stepping into yet another
'Virtual Game',
life and death continue endlessly
within a thousand worlds complete in my mind

and I stepped out from one frame into another
in a flash of thought into the dense mist
and prepare to do battle with the tempest of delusion
and trust my natural responses ...
realise the source
eternally present
it flows through all things
for all things vanish into it
both inside and out and returns to the origin of all
through it all things are done
like all rivers flow into the sea
with the wind against the wind
'I go',
beyond the voidness
into the beginning
and after
I return to the origin
and remain where I have been
the activities of the mind have no limit
for all it's contents are reflected in the mind
the mind is the mind because of this
like the moon in the lake
which has no surface nor no reflection
for no traces are left where I walk
for everything is mind-made
are of one-mind and nothing else
understand this fact
and all delusions are removed
for all things are the manifestation
of the essence of mind
'I can' ....

WARNING
File Number :- 0023-0007-1953-D

Reality is not about putting mankind into the illusion but putting the illusion into mankind .. there is nowhere which is outside the mind .... Enjoy.

''It's what the sign read on the way out'' ....

GUILT OF A MACHO-MAN

2010-07-17T12:48:00.001+08:00

The News ....

''Did you hear the news that's going on the rounds here today.?''

''Hear what news, I only got here now. I got held up in traffic trying to get out in time for that fishing trip we talked about .... and in my mad rush to get here I nearly ran over a stupid dog too, lying out in the middle of the road as if he owned the whole freaking patch .... stupid dog, when I think about it now, maybe he was waiting for somebody to come along and put him out of his misery ..... remind not to lie down in the middle of the road ....

you know how close I was to hitting him ..... I .....''

''Hey, forget about the stupid dog or I will help you myself out onto the road ... our 'fly-boy', he has not been seen for the last two days.

No-where to be found ... or that seaplane of his.''

''So.!''

''So ... what do you mean 'so' ...

it's not like him. He took that plane of his out after doing some repair work on the engine and he has not made radio contact since he put it's nose into the air, which is not like him and it's not playing the game by the rules. You know that, he knows that and we all know that'' ....

''So .... flew into the deep blue horizon did he.?''

''This is no freaking-joking-matter we've got here. The coast guard has been called out, and have, that I know off, reported finding nothing as of yet.''

''Ohh shit .... sorry ....
I thought you were joking. We had arranged to go fishing today, just him and me, I was wondering why he didn't phone to remind me of the time we were going out in that boat of his, he said he would phone me but he didn't. I knew he was working on the plane. He was saying he wanted to take a long trip, didn't say where he was going to me.''

''This is not like him at all.
It's a bit if a 'Bermuda Triangle' mystery at the moment until we hear from the coast guard.''

''You don't think he really did fly off into the deep blue horizon ... do you.?''

''Don't say things like that .. but I don't know.

That plane of his could have ditched, he could have run out of fuel, lots of things could have happened.

Don't forget it was an old two seater seaplane he rescued and spent all his spare time and cash on from the metal crusher.

Look .. all I am saying here is, he was an experience pilot over thirty years flying from 'dust croppers' to combat to hauling commercial. If I know 'fly-boy' I would put my money down on that he knew what he was doing, he knew so well, and if he did do it,
fly off, it was .... let's say, premeditated.''

''What you mean ... he knew what he was doing, how can you say that.?''

''Well, he wasn't himself the last month or so,

now was he ... truthful, even you were saying it.

I thought he would come around and say something to me but you know how he is, only talks when he's in the mood or has something to say and it will be in that boat of his, if he has anything to say.

It's like the 'freaking-floating-confessional-box' on water, that boat. Him up front with pole in the water, beer in hand and talking away as if he was the only one in the boat, never looking back to see if you were paying attention to what he was saying, and never asking for your own opinion ...

like he cared less.''

''Yeah ... sure, but that's the way he was, you know that ... how long have we been friends.?''

''Did he say anything to you the last time you were out with him in that boat.?''

''Funny you should bring that up ...

I mean, him saying anything to me.

About a week ago we were out fishing in the 'confession-box', you know it has more repairs on it than an old shoe, well he kept talking on-and-on about his time flying in Nam.

Never stopped on about it, but as soon we came on shore again he shut up ...

no more was ever said about it, so I gave it no more thought on my part. Just at that time he wanted to get it off his chest, real bad like, you know how he is .. getting moody in his old age too.''

''Yeah, I know ... what did he say, tell me.?''

''I forget most of it now, as I said, I gave it no more thought.''

''Come on man ... remember, try to remember, it might be important. It could very well explain what is happening now to him, the state of mind he might be in too. I know we said we would not talk about those days when we were in Nam together flying. We just got on with what we have here when we got back, trying to keep our own shit together and not going off the rails all together with it.''

''Well you know he was flying napalm all that time of his duty out there. He use to say it was just like flying a 'dust cropper' ... it was getting rid of the termites in their 'dug-outs' ...

it was how he handled it. We all needed to justify what we were doing and that was his way with it .... 'justifying' .. that is.''

''What brought that shit on now at this time of his life, Christ All-Mighty man ... we can't live forever and who wants to anyway, we have seen and done enough for two life times, I want no more part in it, I will be happy to move on when my time comes.''

''I think it might have been some

in-your-face documentary on T.V. he saw recently about that 'damned-war-from-the-start'. So easy now for them to talk about it in the open, like we are all buddie-buddie about it.

He told me it jogged back the memories like 'real time' clicking in and maybe the nightmares too and God knows what other shit he was holding out on.

It all came up and out like vomit and the bad after-taste was still there in every word he spoke, if you ask me he was starting to lose it altogether.''

''That just might qualify for a 'suicide-run' in that seaplane. Might want to go out like his famous name sake, James Dean, the actor.

The right man in the wrong place at the right time for young American adults who wanted their own

'Rebel-Hero'.''

''James Dean did not commit suicide,

I have you know. It was an on-coming car making a turn that crossed into Dean's lane and ran into him, head on, bang-crash. That driver of that car was the wrong man in the wrong place in the wrong car. He lived on till an old age but never talked about it, not to nobody. I often think at times how destiny steps in and surprises us when least expected.

Three movies I think, Dean made and then life pulls the 'joker' .... dead ... what a waste.''

''Jeez, now it clicks in my mind as to why he called that sea plane of his 'Rebel-Spyder' and me thinking it was to do with his Ego .... and maybe it was.

James Dean was driving at the time of his death a Porsche 550 Spyder ..

if I remember correctly now... and his most celebrated movie was ... let me think .. yes ..

'Rebel Without a Cause',

made him a cultural icon, and what was the year he died in now .. remind me on this one.?''

''It was September 30th 1955.

Yes ...'55, I will never forget that date,

it was also the year my old man died, fell into the water-well at the back of our house and drowned, poor bastard, drunk out of his mind on bourbon ...

that's how I remember the date, plus, it was also the year Dean starred in the movie 'Rebel' ...

that's how I know all this stuff about James Dean and about the 'Rebel' date.?''

''Our 'fly-boy' .... James Jack Dean told me while we were out fishing in that 'confession-box',

how he was living in the shadow of Dean and using his name and name sake throughout his life to get his way, it was a game to him he got caught up in and he just kept it up to the extent it was hard to tell the difference between reality and the illusion ...

but every man has a story to tell and that's his.''

''Pass me a beer .... so your old man fell down a water-well ... that's interesting ....

my mother walked off a bridge one night leaving my old man to bring six of us up, from eight to six months, and going through the rest of his miserable life blaming himself for it ... never got over it.

Nobody could give a reason as to why she did do it at the time ... but now they can say it was postnatal depression but you can just never tell with people why they take their own lifes ... can be a shit life,
that's my story ....

boo, do I get my beer now.''

The Story ....

James Jack Dean Sr. named his first son, James after his own father and James Jack Dean grew up in a some-what happy childhood. When he reached his teenage years he was more 'happy' with-in his life, swapping baseball cards and girls and sometimes not in that order.

The baseball cards was a passion that will go with him into life.
The girls, well ... they were just there,

like birds can fly.

For the girls, they were out on a date with 'James Dean' and when 'Rebel Without a Cause' was on celluloid and showing in the drive-in's, well, life became even more interesting for our 'fly-boy'. He took it on personal-like to live up to his name sake and be 'The Rebel'.

The male homo-sapiens he always came up against in life gave him a more rough time over it ..

but he could look after himself. They were jealous of 'fly-boy' and most of the time tried to pick fights with him, to rearrange his natural 'Marlboro Man' looks about his face, and you know what, he did look like the 'Marlboro Man' up on the billboards.

He had that 'cowboy' look, the out-door tan, the cloths, the horse, the cigarette in hand and that silly grin on his face as if he knew the 'secrets' of all life was to be found way out on the open range with a cigarette in hand, horse under your butt and grinning away to yourself ... not a worry in the world.

How many men day-in day-out looked at those

larger-than-life billboards while in traffic jams wishing they were the real 'Marlboro Man' ...
free and easy.

How many men and women took up smoking because of the 'Marlboro Man' on the billboard looked a nice guy, friendly and ...
free and easy.

What if the 'Marlboro Man' was a homo-sapien-homo-sexual-out-on-the-range ...
free and easy,

well nothing wrong with that, and maybe that's why he was 'grinning' but our James Jack Dean,

'fly-boy', was 'Macho-Man' himself,

one hundred present through-out, the all true American 'Macho Man', no butt

kissing here ... no sir. He was driven with a desire, a real inbuilt passion to prove his manhood
by doing what all 'macho men' do-do,
and that was ... flying planes,
like as if there is no fear and no tomorrow. The word 'fear', no matter how hard you

try, is not to be found any where in the
vocabular sounds of 'Macho-Man'.

Confrontation of the moment,

that's what 'macho men' do ....

Confrontation of the moment.

The girls knew that and the men could see it too,

like hunting dogs smelling the wind for the kill but destiny gave 'fly-boy' the name and the 'looks' to go with it and he did not let destiny down, let alone

'The' James Dean ...

he will not be turning in his grave.

''I rode into life on a horse called Destiny'' ...

is what he would say when he had a few beers, like hell the beer reminded him. You know the funny-thing is, now that I think of it ...

our 'fly-boy' never smoked in his entire life, not even 'grass' let alone rode a horse called 'Destiny', or any bloody horse for that matter, the only saddle he was in was .... well you can guess that one for yourself.''

James Jack Dean loved flying, no disputing that, hence his nick-name 'fly-boy'. It was his 'reason for being' and fishing too, flying and fishing and also 'fishing' in it's broader sense.

Anything 'fly-boy' had a passion for began with the letter 'F' ... full stop.

It also cost him dearly two marriages. Away from home most of the time flying and what with his good looks and name .. it played on his wife's minds, both of them at the time, that his now ex-wife's had good reason to be concerned. So things soon came apart no matter what was said to try to patch things up ...

but it was the women who were not married to him tended to stay longer.

''Good baseball cards in good condition were more easy to find than the woman who could live with me and understand me'' ....

he always would say it, believing in the truth of his own words.

He never spoke about his combat-flying but he lived with the memories and the nightmares that visited him like old friends as he got older, and as he got older he got worse.

It was all coming in on him. The nightmares became more alive to him, like he was inside a war game. He dreaded dying in his sleep in his bed ...

he had a real fear about that one. He always wanted to 'go' in 'Rebel-Spyder' his seaplane, he would say this joking with the boys but they knew he was not joking. He said it too often for it to be a joke anymore.

They knew him too well for that sort of thing not to have some truth in it and it now looks like he made the truth into a fact, and fact into reality and reality into the stuff legends are made off. He became his own hero. He was making the James Jack Dean 'real life movie'. His was his own writer, producer, director and leading macho-man-star ....

he was calling the shots and death was going to be no surprise to him ...

it was not going to take him in one of his nightmares,

nightmares he was living-out into daytime.

He was now his own God and he was going to have the last say, well at least that's how he saw it as to how he was going to die.

The coast guards arrived back into port with James Jack Dean in a black body bag, all zipped up and sometime late into the afternoon. They found his seaplane bobbing up and down like a cork in the water, empty on fuel and with him still strapped in his seat starting to feed the fish, three days after he took off in 'Rebel-Spyder'.

There was an autopsy done on the body of James Jack Dean and it was found when they opened him up he was eaten inside with cancer like rust eating away at metal only it was his insides but if that was not enough to deal with and the truth be known by medical science .... guilt too.

Guilt with a capital 'G'.

The type of guilt you can flog yourself with over and over where the scares never heal over, but the doctor's could not find that one, the big 'G'.

They could find the big 'C' but not the big 'G', but his fishing buddies did and knew about the big 'G' a long time ago, well before he knew he had it himself.

It was not the cancer that flew the little two seater seaplane that day but a bigger disease called

'Guilt'. It was 'guilt of a macho-man' that had the controls of the seaplane 'Rebel-Spyder'. It was 'Guilt' that flew out into the horizon that sunny day ...

that day ... September 30th.

By all accounts and these are only other peoples opinions .... James Jack Dean was just in the wrong place on the wrong date at the wrong time .....

Or was he ....

The End ....

'Rebel-Spyder' sank to the bottom of the ocean, the perfect resting place for a seaplane.

It's owner, James Jack Dean
was put to rest in mind and body in the

'Confession-Box',

the boat whom he shared his 'guilt' with and did all his 'soul-searching' in.

And the legend of James Jack Dean,

a.k.a. 'fly-boy', a.k.a. 'Macho-Man'...

It may not go into history like James Dean the actor and become the stuff what legends are made off but it will live on in the earth's 'energy' as his contribution to mankind for the greater good, guilt or no guilt, just like all human beings before him and will do after him, making their own legends and contributions to the world and humanity, it's all about Destiny,

take it or leave it .... free and easy.

''Destiny ...
is not about getting what you want,
it's about wanting what you have got,
for each of us is the author of our own
Destiny.''