Trial of the masses.

Statements from the witness:


Im sure many of us out there have felt the drudgery of feeling like they are but a small component in a massive machine, one whos ideals and ethos  revolve around compassion, empathy and charitable notions.

This is quite opposing to the moral obligations the individual can have towards their own integrity and of course upholding these ideas can be hard pressed at the best of times

I look around at the faces that surround me, each grasping sat some kind of notion in a vein attempt to pull themselves through life's hardships, held by a iron fist of financial fear, should it be the norm for every person to start the day with a happy outlet only to have it torn asunder by creatures fueled only by self gain and financial greed.

The only sensible answer to this is no , people should be able to live their life's without fear of monetary upheaval but yet it is this very fear that governs us all, finds us working the majority of hours that god sends as slaves to the grind.

Now i guess the reason i find myself spouting this talk of socialist empowerment is my current awareness of my own state of employment......


The above statements were conceived in a fit of passion and anger at the individuals current situation..... if i can present these statements to the jury to be overlooked or taken with a slight pinch of salt.

But non the less my honour you can behold this transparent rollercoater of emotion is one that remains prevelant in most if not all.

Guardian Law

So i wake to my flat mate singing little Wayne at the top of his voice missing every other lyric and i cant help but put this in contrast to the events of the weekend , loud , overstated obnoxious comments seem to pollute the waters of a clearest mind, an ideal angel has shown her face and i have aspersions cast in my mind, the most profound of connections are made between two people from quite opposite worlds, she: a pure soul, an unbound energy , the innocence of a child . Me: a cynic , a doubter and far from innocence, yet somehow these two worlds collide and create a limbo of understanding .
  This weekend has been one of life changing proportions, i spoke to someone who i have held dear in my heart since his departure, i never knew this man yet he granted me with the gift to live , i never set eyes upon his person yet i know every part of him so vividly , i couldn't see him yet something told me he was there watching over me and this creature of ethereal proportions confirmed this to me, creating a channel between him and me.
I never knew you before but now i know you are there you feel akin to an appendage , i simply cannot live without you and  thank you for your guidance and support, also for confirming to me that this is not the end, there is life afterwards or something that makes this existence look pale in comparison.
You have given me the will to carry onward's , aware more than ever that i must succeed in my creative efforts for you brought this person to me , not just so i could hear your voice but so she could instill life into me , i am alive once more.


I love you dad and always will. To carry you with me forever. Rest in peace.

Inspiration to work

Art . My life should be about this thing. Change that, life should be about art.

A thousand pictures should be painted every minute , a thousand truths uttered in  every breath

If we do not push forwards , find a drive to create then we may as well curl up in a ball and find the easiest way out.

I find it hard to imagine the thought process of some people , what level of complacency must exist within their lives , it is as though nothing exists there anymore , no innate desire for expression, no closed flower waiting to bloom.

We all have such immense potential lying dormant inside us in embryonic states but  some choose to address it whilst others ignore its allure . We must all engage in these acts of volition for if we don't then our purpose here on earth our true potential is ignored .
I have been concerning myself with the spiritual sides of life since these happenings took place i feel  attuned more now then ever towards the unsaid , the less visible side to existence, the cosmos can speak to me now and i will try and listen .

Thank you for all those people that touched my life in the last week , the marks you have left are delicate and oh so  permanent. I feel tremendous amounts of love for you all.

Soul doodle

Having a level of rest bite has helped to start the integration back into the throws of life, the chaos nestled itself quickly into my daily routine , i found myself being sent home from work yesterday due to an emotional crash which i hope wont persist, i am hoping i can be strong enough to overcome but then a part of me never wants these tendrils of passion to lose their grip but on the other hand if i live with this much intense emotion on a daily basis then i may just explode and that would cause an awful mess.
One thing is for sure that i shall put every essence of spirit, every ounce of sinew , every living  breath into making this happen. The feelings that were awoken, that beast that stirred inside needs to not be ignored.
I must venture forth and ensure i write everyday , keep the creative side alive .
Writing does wonders for the soul  allowing the energy's inside you to leak out , just hearing your internal monologue works on a therapeutic level, sit still and talk aloud your darkest secrets and you will find it doesn't come with ease, now place a pen in your hand and paper before you, close your eyes , count to ten descend that ethereal stair case and begin to write from within i'm sure you will be surprised at what angels and demons jump forth from your psyche.

the hive. ( a poem of sorts )

I look and wonder at the world gone by

People chasing dreams on skies

We run around ridged in our birthday suits and cry cahoots for clothes that cause wonder

and cast a bemused look upon our new world order

Order makes sense if the preceding wasn't bent and twisted out of shape

I see animals in language and landmarks in wonders

I see the progress we have made and i look and ponder......

Have we really understood this at all?

Turbulent times lead to the crimes our glorious nation is facing

being held on trial to walk the green mile and we can all but

smile

because action and consequence finally make sense

we now see the turbulance in our magnificence

for we are all creatures great and small

some of us set to take a bigger fall than others.....

Possibly mothers and fathers can stake a claim

Raised their lavas  who's wings have spread and they sit bloated

regurgitating shit

Spreading disease with freedom and ease

not thinking about the hereafter

More content with self sustained laughter.

This isn't forever...

First morning back to the normal daily activities and it feels akin only to the dawning of the appocalypse.
But i must endure this in order to find a way out, utilize the vapid work space, create a 'soulular vacuum', see this for what it is, a practicality , you must eat,drink and have a safe place to sleep. Even now my reasoning sets itself apart from me , functioning as a separate entity. My reasoning - it looks at me - reassures me that there is a way out , the key to this door is perseverance , there are many who concern all there time with the mendacity of life and then at the end of the tracks when trying to address their soul, find themselves at a lose for it has already been buried , its very essence forming the foundations to the monument of dishonesty that is their existence.
I will not fall prey to this. I am looking forward using this as a starting block to push on through, to try and outrun the devil , or at least catch up with him.

The end of rapture

Now i find my self on my way back home , landscapes and emotions both travelling at thousands of miles an hour.

The audience entered quite sheepishly ending up huddled near the entrance not heading out into the space until instructed to do so, as if scared to tread foot into our church, our holy place fearing to  break the sacrament of person and spirit.

  Gifts of the spirit played out perfectly, rapture and reverence filled the performance space. As a performer i was only vaguely aware of the audiences presence , i found my self scribbling frantic incantations that can only be likened to whispering s  from the lips  of madmen or ancient priests as part of ritualistic worship. Something was definitely being awoken or invoked in this place. We were not alone .

to be continued........


Continued.......


Throughout the rehearsal process we underwent your average notions of spacing the performance into small intervals of writing punctuated with instructions taken from readings spoken by Ron. These Readings came from his memoirs 'Gifts of the spirit' and we grew somewhat accustomed with the time spacing of the piece , we took the cue to write from the speaker commanding us to at the end of each speech segment.
Now as the happenings took place this most certainly wasn't the case i for one become completely unaware of the speech segments and if i were aware it was on a very metaphysical level for prolific writings poured forth from our pens, i can remember no instruction to write , i remember no music cues , i only have a vague recollection of the audience that surrounded me ( and that's primarily due to  the heavy documentation of the piece, what with cameras being thrust into my face at various points) we were taken by whatever we had invoked, a group possession, a mass exorcism of personal demons and a happening to be held aloft in the higher echelons of history and performance .
When the chanting stopped and the performance ended we all awoke from our internal state, snapped back form our daydreams by a crescendo of clapping hands , the performance was over , but surely this was not the end for it felt like only  ten minutes had passed , no this was not the case for an hour of incantations had taken place , a whole hour had passed seemingly unnoticed by audience and performer alike.
It was at this point that the most beautiful and magical of moments occurred , Ron stepped forward and as though being commanded by transparent strings we all drew near to him and one another and just wept and embraced each and every person present (including some audience members) .
This was over for tonight, we had not just performed but ultimately shifted something inside of us , the metamorphosis was complete, bestowed by gifts of some spirit we ventured forth into the night safe in the knowledge that what we concieved would walk forward into this world and grow a life of its own.
My love and thoughts still go with fellow performers, some i can still feel  talking inside my head.

Blank Places filled by noise

So day two of performance prep and all is coming on just fine, well in a roundabout sense.

This place has been accessed before, we (the performers) all now have the keys to this world , so surely the flow of words should come with a little more ease and on the large part this seems to be the case  but just several minutes in to our command stimulus and i find it hard, no matter how much i urge the pen to communicate my innermost onto the paper it just doesn't happen and this continues for the first half of runthroughs until we break and make a beeline for a lengthy two hour break to the nearest drinking hole at which point i stop and project my thoughts onto paper ( ironic i know) but this is what i wrote:

"So i look to writing normally as a bane more often than not forced upon me through academic routes , but this time its different this time the writing is for definition of purpose and effectively to make a stamp in history . The marks that are left shall be there forever unlike your average conventional theatrical piece.
This should be easy to come by, but it comes hard , writing yesterday didnt seem forced but maybe i can break the barrier push though, make this automatic.
I hear horror and peace , i see the darkest parts of whats inside.Place yourself in a cube , close the door . There is  no light here. Only what you resonate is visible."


I think the point to be made here is that i am never normally asked to articulate my thoughts onto paper and when its fed as part of a performance i take it very seriously and want every essence of truth to flow through that pen .But like most i cant force inspiration. Im just hoping it comes easier tomorrow.

Automatic emotion

Stop for a minute,grab a pen and paper, now write about a witness .....

Welcome to stage one of the creative process for Ron Atheys automatic writing. Strong symbolic closed statements form just one of  the stimulus that we as performers are reacting to. Our Rehearsal/performance space ( a dilapidated old science museum with its guts cut out ) provides a fitting setting  for this piece .
A piece who in its nature addresses the entire spectrum of the human psyche but also at the same time gives a medium from which we obtain clear and consise glimpses of battered souls .
Prolific in nature our musings seem to be and a lot darker then preconceived but then if you tell a room full of passionate performers to write from their hearts then any lesser outcome would be a poor show of character.

Now to address automatic writing as a creative process, the idea is simple just write from your centre, get all of your innermost and dirtiest out on show ...... use this forum as your mediator , your psychiatrist , your lover .
The results are terrifying, funny , sorrowful and above all truthful.
I have never been so caught up in a rapture of emotional symphony , taking short intervals we react to the stimulus given, we write but we are not present , the transition from soul to pen is complete , all those days of pent up feeling ever building angst and hurt released in a maelstrom of ink and expression .
The end leaves the floor awash with  documentation of dreams and nightmares and the performers in a state of shock, a foreboding silence fills the room an unsaid awkwardness becomes apparent not too dissimilar to the mutual embarrassing  moment  after  a one night stand between two close friends , you know the minute you realize that as much as you benefited from this experience you cant help but think that all present now knows a part of you  they  should never have seen.

Writing from the start

Truth be told its been a long time since i have embarked upon auto biographical writings but then again its been a  long time since i have performed , and  for this process , one feeds into the other.
I currently find my self hurtiling across the lands inside the carcass of a mechanical animal, not sure of this creatures agenda but one things for certain and that is our shared goal, to get  or there as promptly as possible.

I like many others inevitably question why , what  for and how i exist and most of the time the answers that creep forth from the recesses of my mind are not in the slightest positive so i find myself banishing these demons back . from whence they came with uttered  sayings of ignorance and avoidance.Now its not to say that this is continual for ever now and then the mundane is punctured with pricks of meaning and reassurance and i find on days like this that a brighter light can be seen.

The activity's that we partake in on a daily basis start to define us, our jobs start to give us meaning , our children give us a reason to live , our hopes propel us forward. That is if one of the aforementioned apply to you if not then  surely you can pinpoint some reason or another you have for existence.( i dont believe i can and stop calling me Shirley!)  Honestly most of the time i struggle but i don't believe for one second this symptomatic of my character , the general populous on a large part are indeed happy with their  'distractions'.

Where i am or rather the activity's in which i shall partake  this week could be classified as distractions but a distraction i am wholly happy to engage with, the next 5 days will unveil inner-workings and innate truths.

Bottom line being i am happy to back performing. Two years of mendacity  passed slowly.