Art Exhibition

of

Word Paintings

From the Author:

• I have messed with SOV structure.
• I start without a capital in pieces as if the writing just comes straight from the continuum.
• Grammar rules are played with, different inferences on certain words for emphasis as to their displacement
• Concepts are personified
• Writing is not supposed to have a linear narrative or point, neither is it word salad – it has reference, relevance and meaning. It is to be looked at as if it were an abstract painting, the individual derives their own interpretation.
• Experimenting with a technique which thus far has proven to work: I use the subconscious as a tool of creativity and revelation. Which means, like Austin Osman Spare¹ and his technique of automatic drawing, I ignore the conscious mind, not thinking at all, effectively cutting out the critic and editor of the brain and there from write whatever comes. Sometimes it is just drivel but most of the time it is symbolic and an informative statement. When I'm in this “esoteric” state or a heightened vision to receive higher truths of self I can get stuck with needing a word. My conscious vocabulary can not keep up, I have the word but don't know it. I only know the first two letters and the ending of the word so I use dictionaries, thesauruses and reverse dictionaries and will find the exact word that I am looking for. I guess one could call this process bibliomancy or logomancy or logosophy but I have experimented with these methods and they did not fit what I do.
• So I have created my own term called “Idlogosurgy”.
• ”Id” means the part of the mind where the primary operation or the instinct occurs, “logos” means word and the suffix “urgy” means working of.

Media used in Exhibition : Oxford Concise Dictionary 1911 , Roget’s Thesaurus 1994, Readers Digest Reverse Dictionary 1989

Welcome to

Idlogosurgy

BEHOLD

extraordinary loud permanence asserts itself. Wilful change has

abandoned Will. Promotion of sarcophagus reignites into colossal

exposure – a moment merry like a remnant on the end. I

have elegant disgrace shimmied within oblique technique, a

tassel honesty that drafts the vesuvian. Cold and complete,

a cenotaph tackles what could quite well be – if the

marmoreal me would let it. Frightened into subterfuge,

sacrifice, sabotage, the maker rests on fusion parcel,

acquitted, forgiven.

PAPYROGRAPH

streaking across the landscape an eye looks out like

paintwork, providing and knowing and corrosive. Glyphs sort out

the meaning of the sky, motive and amphitheatre voiced. Focal

point arouses the auriferous torsion, minueting the colours

of chemical way. Long before the internal erupted, the shadows

had refracted on anon and aware of crush beats harlequin, single-

handedly selects a Dog.

PARABESIS

musings and shavings pencil across the land. A tramontana plays,

spread out loud and old, a funnel for the dress rehearsal. Charm

bracelets ringing, a message drinking near and soiree stiffens

as limitless glistens and nightmares lead the fray. Truncated

co-ordinates seek shelter under the abyss lying forward in

castration – not knowing which was witch. Solidified like tree stumps,

the remorse of almost over glances back between the bridge, miracles

and armour false laden with alternatives of testudinate and bombastically.

Worse than cause, a minute guest stars as salutiferous

and the wonders why get inebriate, ineluctable. Joyous compages grow tall

amidst the dual – a smoky dedication swipes terminal fluid.

CORYPHAEUS

Sometimes we twist where numerology sips and the alternates go

on floor fold. A momentary gloss over an exuberant gain

measures energy like a conundrum. Of always, the most terrific

plain has vagabonds on backwards, and the redux says to

an aperture stance “don't dwell long on the threshold.”

Over the motion, the initiate pluses a significant tinctorial,

pulsing allotment and posting all the times. Of one and

self the mean graph shakes us near, dance and be free for

the select. Out of touch, the finger moves over the

chessboard, not thinking in foresaw again. Alive like

a paradigm, geometric comment gives great pope to

the blood that sits in the vein. Out towards the incline,

an information bibasic sets us off on course, of

course the recline looks simpler. Twenty six a motion to

depart but the cornea looks like referendum. There is

a chorus to lead out over the dusk, but like antimony

its backwards is upwards.

LEVERAGE

rust folds as night falls, piercing the incision. Remnants

shake a glance at sections composed of illiterate nature surveying.

Totem shape breathes innocence into the incantation, a

timing reassured by phosphene enthralled and graciousness

pianos diction. We collaborate small as intimate guise, a

wormwood curtain for alight, in dreamstate because, landscape

perennial pause as light portraitures conveyance. Grisaille

music fractals on the wind, a guessing game of spirits

tournament. Inside the outside, the monument denouements

in it's rich certain window display. Collected on the sand,

the candles take hint and merrily wait for stairway. In this

just, the rust unfolds and the torturous night intricates.

TRIQUETRA

delivery deceitful and receive, communication a wreck of working

palms crossed over in prayer. Likewise, the satisfaction given

towards harmony of ghostlike trust and tendency grapple,

ignominy and boastful host again. A likeness to trompe with,

oasis as promise; keep time and time keeping a whole different

net. Unavoidable, the explanations triturate, spitting themes

like yesterdays fusion.....all yesterdays in convolution, one and many

as none. Something, like guesses in the carpet, wriggles deep

within the range of sky within the head all is sky when

looked at internally. Catafalque of space, denial

flight, imbued with the bodice of triangulate. Lost of

monsoon again, tripled with the digit of why and accursed

acuminate.

TRUANT

listening to emulsion makes a creak like glittering, forwarded towards

longitude emanation. Into the God, the presence hits as if

singing a great song and we rapture all over the become. Like

a sandal, motion is applied tore apart like feet. In between

the arrow of tourer the lightning fastens it's neck, strikes

and degrees like centring. Before long, a region of impasse

will slay it all away and psyches will bring back conjunction.

Elusive as day, the metamorphic speaks, grown old with the

down of illicit. Orbicular teams move hungry like machines

waiting for angular down tools. And circumferences run like

a nose full of blood, burst inside but feeble. Ruminate

on a loch full of state, the time has dinner close, as fluster

is taken neat, no ice for this drink, the probable luckily

capable. You moved me from a penchant to a say that

life seems lofty up here but like a truck changing gear octophone

transcribes fear into growling, howling fruition.

EMERGE

like a reluctant total, the unmasses unfold as we lunge

again into oblivion. Like a causeway we have driven

between commodity and terror, replicated in resourceful

intent. Like haphazard comma, a recital hits the ewigkeit

and summons a truly awful recompense. So take a glass

and see it fulcrum, perfect in reject to they. Sorted stock

and outlaw lost, the excavate makes ignition.

WASHING LINE

we are flying into open habitual, the length here dressed in

eye-cones, the consensual moving over to infect. Into

lightning bolt of fruition tiny spots of above spy regal

over the mud into the guessing game of performance over wit,

cost excursion murmurs open portion as dilemma hits the

mailbox. Into the backyard where here will be again, and

information eats old illusion, contaminating its hone fed base.

Into the list of lesser known convince, as compact retreats

from the day and lying back like old school grieves a premature

relapse. Into the escape of lessons taken aback as surgeons

all hold glitter, the matter came of reign inane and ineptitude

meets simpler. Into the lost of reasoning just cause, an

aching plume of remember, while justify left sees right

kept at neck and the face forward takes an innard. Into

the centre that left out the gentler and made a mark upon the essence,

into the grasp that longs just to last, and

intimate body thither, see that it folds like executive

console and hurries away a deliver.

GRAPH

dog-earing the sky, the absolute took never into it's

tether. Open closed, the memory makes time stretched

as far in any way it will go. From now until yesterday

the oration of sinciput carries on over melted mountains, the

exultation gloriously in place. So tomorrow makes juncture

and the heliosis leaves puncture while imbroglio makes all neat.

Tired again, the set upon reject of florid

participants waits until the arc comes again. Informed justly,

a won't because sits on the back steps, hoping for it's

tedium dinner. Such content in such waste, an almost over

conveyance looks to saddle in footnotes again, and the

refurbishment of tangential, sine wave pictographical

alerts forbearance to the frame.

PORTRAIT

Looking out over portrait sky the seeming belches so thick that gateway dilapidates. A move over to the threshold and one time as many thinks a clocking over the head would be endurable. Bleeding touches thumb technique, a blindly knotted night scape begs technique, unique in it's disposition but no longer beneath. Inertia touches rainbows as the light hits the sound and a granary of sephira escape aloud and reconciled. In meaning such a submission the kind thought drenches in midway, taken aghast at the lover's tenfold and frequent moment glaring. Too much beside the day, the entity grabs alert and stays the emission of deserted highway – another kindly glitch on a backward stark. Spoken like true enemies the meaningful stole of lighthearted touch just keeps on moaning, mowing away a bridge that could defeat. Substance like terminal lightbulb adjusts the calm altitude before a gathering of stars and celebration begins to exact. Across the board chance gathers luck through choice of such and memorises a daemon cascade of soul in teach. A gain gathering trust looks over it's shoulder and toughens out the next few days ahead; whilst threading a new breath with a new death. A moment ago lives gathered with selves replicating themselves in a DNA trail. I can gather, by the look on your space that the emerald dark sits slivered, traced and taken hostage before a trace of epiphanical elements, hardened and zoomed until the portrait sky locks and loads, rebates and kisses. Times like this, she welded, it's times like this..... where it's is infused with a time honoured immense.

LIVE

Of curse the sextant pointed to a salted wood, a drippy shore, a work of more. The game in the garden lied terrible in wait, hunting the players with glen. In figurative lure the checkmate chanceman was spinning; lucrative and out of control. Colossal tendrils hang as a fringe over the seen, allowing us some part of her aware but still within. Pools of garnish refracting speculum soothe the drifts and holograph the sky, several breasts hang misted in the meridian. Craft of whirlpools sing about the air, a long kiss igniting photosynthesis fire dreaming in the trees. Aeons scattered in the geometrical dust, designed and designated for hearing. The eclipse of nightmare set in the rock, hosted remnant and weaving like capsizing an inbetween, wanting finally to be. Likelihood stares a neighbourhood stare, the lock of four in her note, swallowing strong to swing on a lemniscate branching from the trees, a promise now of the beings all agreed – one was always none and one but forced to be deceived. If doubt is now an entrant then the game will cease to exist; the garden built, entranced, a mere token in the glen, a glimpse at what I told you so, the eight denied to give........live.

1https://hermetic.com/spare/auto_drawing, accessed 10.10.18

THE HOLE OF THE INVERSE CIRCLE

PRESENTS

THE MANIFESTO OF

THE LIMINAL S/HEHOOD OF

IDLOGOSURGY

WE REJECT YOU.

We are the inverse of a movement, of all attempts at political, artistic or scientific movement. We are nothing to do with you. We are the light that shines through the pines at night. (Michael Fallson)¹We live in the in-between. The in verse. The inverse consists of nothing, is for nothing and is from nothing. Nothing is the starting point for all great works. Nothing is a great 'beginning' realm as there exists no pre-determined relation or programming which one can create from. Although creation from those contact points is effective, indeed necessary, it is when one creates “off the top of one's head”, “for no reason at all” or “wasn't thinking of anything” where we find most often that, like a jack-in-the-box the surprise is unwound.

This is tapping in to one’s subconscious through the act of self -observance and Will. We, of course, do not create from nothing, we can't, because whatever occurs is everything, and must be already existing of and because of us, but to the consciousness, in order to create, it all should pose as nothing. IDLOGOSURGY and The Inverse Circle is about nonsense and the prevalence of. Nothing is everything. Nothing is true. Nothing isn't and is permitted. Nothing is for and against. Nothing is right and wrong.

Nonsense is that which makes the most sense. Idlogosurgy concerns the all of nothing. It is the conjunction of that in-between, that which lies in between all that is in-between – that which only the individual and no one else can see, buried as it is amongst ones own infinite. It is universe's reflection in the mirror (as the macrocosm is the microcosm), revealing all that usually lies under the floorboards. It is the true reaction of true concern to

all your bollocks.

The In-Between.

Idlogosurgy is not about sitting on the fence, or ignoring issues that need addressing. In a social frame of decision we wish to stand for that of unchange. Unchange regarded as the inverse of change, the 'something' changed upside-down, from the nothing. Nothing is the abyss of change. We wouldn't be here, ready for unchange if not for there being a change in nothing or The Nothing. The Infinite. Our concern is this: we want to destroy all causes which think they can make a change. In the majority, protesting for change does not work. WE ARE THE IN-BETWEEN of token-caring and social protest. Sudden is where we see change is at, the nightmare of shock where looking back further into ones head the reaction and search combine with the fear borne of unfamiliarity, pain, confusion, and unrecognised known. Here lies the change that is as useful as that in your back pocket – you either really need it or you piss it off to get it out of your way.

We Idlogosurge.

We have no protest. We PROTEST EVERYTHING. We are the act of not acting by the conscious so that the unconscious may act suddenly, violently, hurriedly and informatively. We are the Idlogosurgers who sit and watch and listen. The Invisible Army.

We should be rebelling in the small ways instead of being paralysed in moral outrage and losing ourselves in social media.

We are the artists, poets and musicians who don't consciously react to anything but create from internal response

INFERNAL!RESPONSE!

In accordance with our individual Will. Acting through

LOVE

NOT

EGO

IS WHERE CHANGE IS AT.

We do not protest. Protest creates a lack of concern, the outrage gets diluted when

people get on their soapbox.

We are Magick – that which causes change in conformity to the Will. (Aleister Crowley)²

We are individuals working as a unit.

If we do not protest anything how do Idlogosurgers propose to ignite change?

WAR

Self based moral antics ruin true change. People protest, yet we still have Climate Change that has passed the tipping point while Australia's prime minister worships coal. We have Donald Trump reigning president over an idiocracy. Refugees in Manus Island. Greed for oil raping various countries resources and creating refugee situations. Governments pure refusal to spend money on alternative power sources. Monsanto. Big Pharma. Peak oil. Peak food. Rising sea levels. Aboriginal deaths in custody. Racial profiling and racist corporate prison systems in the USA. The great pacific garbage patch. Under 4000 tigers left in the world, yet a dentist can pay to hunt and kill one of the oldest male lions. The lackadaisical care of the great barrier reef. Unlocking national parks for development and razing old world forests. Countries forced into austerity while CEO's take home insane bonuses. Rampant over-population. Neo-imperialism. Neo-conservatism. Neo-liberalism. Resurgent nationalism and jingoism. Incessant and invasive advertising. Nanny states. Corporate globalisation and state dissolution. Entire countries hungry and without water when Kim Kardashian is a one-percenter. The fact that we have one-percenters. The fact that we have a third world. Unreal reality TV. Paramilitary police forces. The politics of fear mongering. THIS ALL STILL EXISTS DESPITE “PROTESTS”.

IT IS BLACK AND WHITE

– it's us against them, left vs right, top vs bottom, black vs white, christian vs muslim, - thoughtless moral outrage pulls us in every direction and the centre can no longer hold, so what are we left with? The in between. Out of the in between and the nothing we can make something new.

We reject all context, structure and narrative. We are the spaces in between where you think, between what and where you read. The space in between the 1 and the 0.

IN BETWEEN.

In between a place and candy is a narrow foot-path that shows more mounting than anything, so much really that a calling meaning a bolster measured a whole thing with that. A virgin a whole virgin is judged made and so between curves and outlines and real seasons and more out glasses and a perfectly unprecedented arrangement between old ladies and mild colds there is no satin wood shining.
Gertrude Stein³

Idlogosurgists are the space in between the lines of a painting, the angles of a sculpture, the space between the cars, we are in between the moment of an action potentially firing a neuron, in between the synapse accepting, in between atoms of light elements being crushed together to create a new star, in between the volumes of space where we find an electron, in between the ink hitting the page on a printer. We are the space between the atoms that crystal a lattice, in between the desire to desire.

Consciousness, reality and belief are all failure to comprehend truth.

IN THE UNIVERSE THERE ARE THINGS THAT ARE KNOWN AND THINGS THAT ARE UNKNOWN AND IN BETWEEN THERE ARE DOORS.

William Blake⁴

We are against complacency, normality, routine, conservative thought, lack of creativity, order, and are the invisible army that will murder all those who destroy with those acts of terrorism.

A POEM TO ILLUSTRATE

ENTRAPMENT

You've got time on your hands and it's dirty. Romancing a ladder of information with the card shack emblem on the back of your head, breathing is hard, relaxation impossible. Close the eyes and the white bright dips and twirls, twists and explodes like a champagne pixel polishing a sound. Over head, the chastisement increases, fighting action into neverworld returns, no sign to implement the enlightened one, the satisfied one, the now-ing one. Built commitment into treason what swallows is a trail of refused entry, mapping out old pathways of synapse rivalry. Erosion of commotion in the pages front, the time oiling all touch and stupefying judgement. The belief in a moment exteriorised by not clouding in, focus raging, no parallax for a juncture that wants. The same thought hinders recompense, a memoir of some arrogant whisper tears it all apart again. We will shift here in this weak redefine, even if it is only one sentence, a bleak common reek of equivalency and shortage of troops. In the space of organised hate different bodies will engage, a manifestation of aura opening up the ways of doors and this neural theatre's wings, holding all the might of destruction shall no longer gain further stage.

JOIN US TO MAKE TRUE CHANGE – THERE IS NO TIME LEFT

Nicolee Ferris z3371500

1Fallson M, Beastianity, “Root”, A Praise Dog Production, Australia 1999

2Crowley A, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magick_(Thelema)

3Stein, G, https://www.bartleby.com/140/1.html

4Blake W, https://www.azquotes.com/author/1490-William_Blake