Daily Painting

Sidney Nolan
LANDSCAPE WITH A MAN AND A CAMEL (1966)

Playing

John Coltrane
OFFERING - LIVE AT TEMPLE UNIVERSITY

Daily Painting

Cy Twombly
NIGHT WATCH (1966)

STEPHEN STILLS
"For What It's Worth"

There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
A-telling me I got to beware

I think it's time we stop
Children, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Are getting so much resistance from behind

Time we stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and a-carrying signs
Mostly say hooray for our side

It's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
Step out of line, the man come and take you away

We better stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down
We better stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down
We better stop now
What's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down
We better stop
Children, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

Playing

The Beatles
REVOLVER

Watching

VIOLENCE AT NOON
[白昼の通り, HAKUCHŪ NO TŌRIMA]
Nagisa Ôshima
Japan, 1966

SAMUEL BECKETT
Texts For Nothing

Yes, I was my father and I was my son, I asked myself questions and answered as best I could, I had it told to me evening after evening, the same old story I knew by heart and couldn’t believe, or we walked together, hand in hand, silent, sunk in our worlds, each in his worlds, the hands forgotten in each other. That’s how I’ve held out till now. And this evening again it seems to be working, I’m in my arms, I’m holding myself in my arms, without much tenderness, but faithfully, faithfully. Sleep now, as under that ancient lamp, all twined together, tired out with so much talking, so much listening, so much toil and play.

Watching

SANTA CLAUS HAS BLUE EYES
Jean Eustache
France, 1966

Playing

Nina SImone
FOUR WOMEN

NINA SIMONE
"Four Women"

My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is woolly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is AUNT SARAH
My name is Aunt Sarah

My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is SAFFRONIA
My name is Saffronia

My skin is tan
My hair is fine
My hips invite you
my mouth like wine
Whose little girl am I?
Anyone who has money to buy
What do they call me
My name is SWEET THING
My name is Sweet Thing

My skin is brown
my manner is tough
I'll kill the first mother I see
my life has been too rough
I'm awfully bitter these days
because my parents were slaves
What do they call me
My name is PEACHES

Watching

THE FEAR [Ο φόβος]
Kostas Manoussakis
Greece, 1966

Currently Playing

The Beatles
REVOLVER

Daily Painting

Bernard Buffet
TOREADOR EN CLOWN (1966)

Currently Watching

WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF?
Mike Nichols
USA, 1966

HARRY FAINLIGHT
"Trans"

            "The D. J. Speaks"

“O.K. imps, snot-freaks, pill-elves,
hi-fi fairy-fury flipsters and intelligences,
its out, all out now onto the rooftops—

Your only chance left now
is to come out here into the naked star-fright
and freak it out alone.

Yes, out until it’s scared the living
Fainlights out of you;
jumping you out of your star-split wits
and back into your sprite mind.

Released in your new fledged
LSD lieutenantries
above the cities of the West—

Luftpost TV antennae-quivering falconries suddenly
checking in the new-alerted starlight as you realize
some fresh gleaming ledge of intelligence
on which to alight.

—Was it witch I said then?
Yes, witch-kids, witch-kids,
riding out on your broomstick wavebands
night after night.

Behind their mumbo-jumboing
guitars, each group
another coven of them—
                                        Trans—
                        Trance—

TranceSISters
shrieking the bisexual superhet electronic
guts out of them coast to coast and trans—
atlantic and all the way back round again and
again and again—the hair of those trance
atlantic telephonists left
crackling behind them.

And then up—
up and round the whole Van Allen belt and back
tingling with ions!
—The whole billion brain-valved telepathic wavelength left
blasted behind them.

And then finally off—
off blowing that long cool solo out into space you never
want to come back from but must,
must for this final chorus when the whole heavy
nuclear combo starts laying it down—
blasting the dumb-ox blockbusters out of
your old conventional consciousness—
                                                        WHAT?

you think this is just some little
railway sidings halloween or something?
No baby, this is the real H-bomb witch stuff
flying around in here tonight
so just you mind your spooks and cues
and smile, SMILE
cause you know this is only
that little D.J. joke your D.J. daddy’s
been having with you all this while.
You know, that old saggy god story
about how this week again
‘The Eve of Destruction’
will be going like a Bomb.”