Letter To A Friend

St. Stephen's Day, 2009

Dear Michael,

Thank you very much for your well thought out gifts.

I have read both of them, I particularly like Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet. I have marked some passages. Some of it spoke directly to me, "Was it I who spoke? Was I not also a listener?", "And I the believer was also the doubter", "And how shall you speak of (beauty) except she be the weaver of your speech?", "Your body is the harp of your soul", "God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips".

In the Omar Khayyam, I was surprised not to see the verse
xii
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread - and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness -
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

I hope you enjoy the music I sent you.

I have found most, but not all, of my jukebox parts. I have all the parts which go to make it play, I am missing a decorative piece, as well as screws, washers, nuts and bolts. The most recent part found is a wooden shelf which has a circuit diagram, quite faded. The service manual and operator's guide has arrived in the post.

Wishing you a happy New Year and looking forward to seeing you on Thursday the 30th,

David ****

A Prayer

While cleaning the Aga, wiping egg stains off it, the thought came to me, this is revealing God's glory, and a prayer came to me, May I reveal God's glory.
David ****

Prayers And Eff Words

I dip my pen in the inkwell and form the words "God" and "fuck" written in the ink of my life.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God. Was the word the eff word?

Does the truth, God, goodness itself tell evil, badness, to fuck off? Or is it too polite, being, possibly, politeness itself? To politeness, in the sense of an adopted, meaningless manner, I say fuck off.

Did Christ, when he drove the moneychangers from the temple, tell them to fuck off? I asked a friend this question and he said he beat them with a flail. I said that was telling them to fuck off.

What shall my dieing words be? I'm fucked, or fuck it, now I will fucking find out, or not, as the case may be. Or shall I end with a prayer, assuming I am compos mentis at the time?

Perhaps I will feel as one walking a tightrope, hopefully an experienced practitioner of that art.

What is life, asked an old Irishwoman, but a time between two mysteries, the mystery of our coming and the mystery of our going?

"Everything is futile, it would be better never to have been born" - Samuel Beckett. A barman said "I wouldn't go that far". Beckett again, "Fuck you God, you don't exist".

God bless freedom of speech.

David ****

A Confession

I confess to Almighty God I don't believe in God.

That expression is laughable because self contradictory (how do you confess to someone in whos existence you do not believe?)

To me, the truth is God, and love is what I feel for the truth, both in all their forms and shapes and sizes, finite or infinite, as the case may or may not be.

I don't believe in God, the entity, but maybe.......

How does this grab you?

There are two kinds of people I hate, racists and niggers.

Another self contradictory statement.

Our subject matters are God, love, truth, hatred and racism. That's enough to be going on with.

The Truth Defined

This post is referred to in my previous post ‘The Truth Is Coming’, which should be read first, to put this in context. See also ‘Talking To Myself’, which enclosed both that and this post as well.

D

14^th October, 2009.

(Peter, Van Gogh, Leonardo – note, your name is bracketed with the greats).

Peter,

You ask what is truth, pointing at the handle of a cup. What is the truth of that handle? The truth of that handle is the truth of all handles, that it possesses the quality of handleness. If it serves the function of being a handle, then it is true, then it is worthy of being called a handle. The truth must be put first, both by the designer and the maker, then it will serve its purpose, which is to satisfy the user. Its truth does not reside merely in the fact that it is (we have all seen bad handles). To be is to be true, all else is false.

The truth is all pervasive, and its other name is God. The denial of truth is the denial of God. Heaven in a grain of sand – William Blake. Inanimate objects, not man made, serve their purpose merely by being. We, however, are self aware and can choose, as Hamlet said, to be or not to be.

Our purpose is to serve the truth of being, by being true. True to the material from which we are formed, which is all we know and are, to find and seek the truth in that world and universe, and give expression to it in how we are and what we do and make, which is ultimately what we make of our lives. We choose how we are, what is immaterial, we may be a road sweeper.

Our true purpose is to serve the truth, by being a true cup handle, metaphorically speaking. When quality is put first, quantity is ennobled, and quality and quantity are one.

Everywhere, the truth is denied whereas the truth is the meaning in an apparently meaningless universe, of which we are a part. The truth is that which we must seek and seek to convey, in our words and our actions. By being true to ourselves, we are true to others. Be true to your materials.

I hope this is of some use.

As an artist, you should be concerned with the bigger picture (joke, but many a true word is spoken in jest).

Everywhere, everything is treated as meaningless, but that is not to say that it is meaningless, merely that the truth is denied. Quality is treated as non-existent, whereas it is what we all seek. The symbol is not the thing symbolised, but the truth is when they are one. We can but try.

Seek, and ye shall find. When a person goes to an art gallery, he is seeking truth, although he may not know it, in the form of a painting.

I got up out of bed to write this.

You ask a worthy question, the question of all questions, what is truth? The truth is not a what but rather a how, and the answer is when how and what are combined.

Next time, perhaps you will ask a greater question, why?

The answer will be one and the same, in so many words, in a manner of speaking.

Yours speechlessly,

David

PS I could have said, did you eat rat poison for your breakfast this morning? It would not have been true food if you did. Now you know what the truth is.

D