tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57105302024-03-13T13:36:57.422-07:00Flying StoneThe online bulletin of the Portland Surrealist GroupUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-17762806920015855422008-01-29T08:42:00.000-08:002008-01-30T18:02:37.363-08:00Portland Surrealist Group DissolvesThe Portland Surrealist Group, founded in August 2001, dissolved on January 14th, 2008. Due to various internal situations we were unable to maintain a level of collective activity that was consistent over time, and this led to Brandon Freels resigning on January 13th. After further discussion FN Brill and I decided to disband the group. Much of the material that has been published at the Flying Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-17337895809241323162007-11-14T11:07:00.000-08:002007-11-14T11:18:35.968-08:00Qkcofse at RottureUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-19072493923433001472007-10-25T16:13:00.000-07:002007-10-25T16:17:01.048-07:00The Termite ColonyWater colored turtles bask in useless abandonLuminous chocolate spirited awayThe purple Shetlander adrift in ennuiHers was a tragic compulsion to laugh whilst shoppingSomething extraordinary is stalking meAnd you sit there listening to Burmese operas youdon’t quite likeA little star dust paints my way into your pinkyearningsSeven over twelve curved nimblesShimmery sand hill cranes dance for matesUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-2398590812272273842007-08-09T07:57:00.000-07:002007-08-09T08:00:27.427-07:00On IceOn July eleventh I dreamed I was in a scene featuring a frozen woman and a telepathic fox. The woman was laying on the ground in a thick layer of opaque ice, while the fox seemed to be narrating comic-book panels with its mind. In these panels which I was reading or hearing, the fox suggested someone drill a small hole towards the woman's breathing area so he could lick or bite the rest of the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-44801140204325769242007-07-12T07:38:00.000-07:002007-07-12T07:41:10.696-07:00Chaotic Provocateur1.I was in one of those forests in another body under the earth and on the sun planted in the masculine word facing the sea!I was heaving the oracle stained with garden gates running through the world’s pierced coons I’m wild I’m new surrounded by flies!Water whispers into the barricade ready for blooming flesh birds of night bathers dancers rivers steam!I was standing shaking every mountain red Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-43485014446238656892007-06-13T07:26:00.002-07:002007-06-13T07:32:29.801-07:00In A Better World: Photographs by Brandon FreelsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-39244352267282515502007-04-28T20:50:00.000-07:002007-04-30T10:57:31.831-07:00Latent NewsThese texts were composed using a technique of word collage in which lines or phrases from a newspaper were removed from their original context and rearranged to reveal a latent content.Ask An Empty BoxAsk an empty box to give happiness. It is space-oceanic trousers—the new worlds. I repeat, I'm a good question. Do you eliminate big squeak? I have the face of bark. Cover two sanity autographs Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-54609935675341568902007-03-18T06:05:00.000-07:002007-03-18T06:35:17.250-07:00Aquatic Conspirators: Drawings by Brandon FreelsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-44947650424170667072007-03-02T11:01:00.000-08:002007-03-02T11:32:18.683-08:00A Review of Dancin' in the StreetsDancin in the Streets: Anarchists, IWWs, Surrealists, Situationists & Provos in the 1960s Edited with Introductions by Franklin Rosemont & Charles Radcliffe (Charles H Kerr, 1740 West Greenleaf Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60626) 447 pp. $17 paper.Certain books have a magical glow to them. The choice of illustrations to accompany the text, the overall layout of the book and, most importantly, Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-28707570311414961442007-01-20T15:47:00.000-08:002007-01-20T15:52:12.575-08:00Qkcofse at Someday LoungeUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1168390645665905382007-01-09T16:55:00.000-08:002007-01-09T16:57:25.673-08:00Internally Yours: Poems by Brandon FreelsClose your eyes and open:I am internally yoursWalls within locust wordsClose your eyes and open this graveThe architects built my lifeLive here for a whileGeometrical figureLying mouth to mouthUpside-down the piano growlsA little milk in your eyeThe snake rising fromImmense forests of secretsI was thinking of herAnd asked you to spend the nightFalling into the closing mouthEmpty coffins sweatWhatUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-28309103335878913932006-12-25T18:40:00.000-08:002007-01-24T07:13:01.405-08:00To Have Done With the Spectre of GodAfter the Second World War, throughout the economically developed world, religion, especially Roman Catholicism, had to abate its centuries-old claim to direct people’s inner lives, their sexuality, their social and moral existence. A large portion of humanity thus reaped the fruits of the long anti-Christian struggles of the eighteenth century, initiated by the bourgeoisie and pursued even more Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1162964601877958842006-11-07T21:37:00.000-08:002006-11-16T04:30:56.690-08:00Broke Down Engine Blues: Photographs by Brandon FreelsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1158911405878811692006-09-22T00:36:00.000-07:002006-09-22T03:04:11.953-07:00Two Collages by MK ShibekUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1155073597594211152006-08-08T14:41:00.000-07:002006-08-09T06:20:20.256-07:00Two CastlesDuring my teenage years a girl I knew told me of a ruinous castle hidden in Portland’s west hills. Over time I conducted various spontaneous searches for this building, but all went unrewarded. It wasn’t until I discussed this topic with the Portland Surrealist Group that I recovered any information. MK Shibek told me of seeing a band perform an acoustic set one night in the remnants of a stone Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1151727385518676972006-06-30T21:16:00.000-07:002006-06-30T21:37:39.413-07:00Eric Bragg’s Automatic Smoke SignalsIn the author’s own words, Automatic Smoke Signals is “not really an art book, but a cycle of images representing an interpretive delirium.” At times reminiscent of Matta’s paintings, these photographic documents of natural phenomena invite us into the mystery of transient forms caused by the interplay of fire and air. Bragg’s surrational and often humorous captions accompany each image, and Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1150174277653393292006-06-12T21:39:00.000-07:002006-11-15T00:37:49.330-08:00Interpretive Images by MK ShibekUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1146817688696948292006-05-05T01:24:00.000-07:002006-05-05T01:31:37.970-07:00Has Anybody Seen Sam Lowry?Terry Gilliam’s 1985 film Brazil makes a profound declaration about the poverty of modern living. Clearly Orwellian, it portrays an atomized society where the people are subjugated to a system of deceptive images and technological barriers that isolate them from each other both physically and psychologically. As a critique Brazil seems more relevant today than when originally released. With Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1142993409472780692006-03-21T18:10:00.000-08:002006-03-22T01:04:17.316-08:00The Paranoiac-Critical CoyoteMap reading as a form of interpretive delirium brings us closer to the surreality in geography. Where the Willamette and Columbia rivers meet there becomes visible the tip of a canine nose that eventually gives way to the silhouette of a coyote framed by the two rivers. This image shadows the region, stretching its chest as far south as Oregon City and flattening its ears eastward in the form of Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1139869358268832132006-02-13T14:19:00.000-08:002006-02-20T01:20:06.180-08:00Three Images by Laura CorsigliaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1139393751674406772006-02-08T02:11:00.000-08:002006-02-08T13:04:03.580-08:00Demanding the Impossible: An Anarcho-Surrealist ManifestoI is an other. So what if a piece of wood discovers it is a violin…If brass wakes as a bugle, it is not its fault at all.―Arthur Rimbaud (1871)By demanding the impossible, we become impossible in our demands. Make no mistake about it, we demand an end to all forms of domination and insist on the realization of poetry in everyday life. Only by erasing the artificial dichotomy between dream and Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1138845905800353302006-02-01T18:01:00.000-08:002006-02-04T22:17:17.753-08:00Three Drawings by Nova DawnUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1137804267141851062006-01-20T16:44:00.000-08:002006-01-20T16:48:31.296-08:00Ewuana and Her KindRocks have the incredible ability of being perceived as things they are not. In the inspired mind a simple outcome of erosion can, by chance, match the human figure, creating a fault-line in our patterned, predictable view of the world. Almost a mile south from the city of Bandon, in a remote location off the Oregon coast, is a rock formation that can easily be identified as a woman’s face in Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1134494051709951042005-12-13T09:10:00.000-08:002006-01-15T01:49:13.276-08:00The Somnambulist’s ShadowBefore I reached puberty I was prone to somnambulism, an altered state of sleep, often referred to as sleepwalking, in which the body is aroused while the conscious self is not. Although memories of somnambulism are, like dreams, usually offset with amnesia, I have several ambiguous recollections of these walks, as if a camcorder had been, in a moment of violent desperation, accidentally switchedUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5710530.post-1133812100166287042005-12-05T11:48:00.000-08:002005-12-05T21:06:33.853-08:00Warning Lights: A Statement on the Recent Riots in France by the Paris Group of the Surrealist MovementFor three weeks, in the ghettos of the poor suburbs, euphemistically named “sensitive neighborhoods,” on the outskirts of the outskirts, thousands of cars were burned, public utilities devastated, troops of police deliberately attacked.There is nothing new about what sparked these incidents: the absurd death of two adolescents seized by panic, in the course of “normal police behavior.” ComparableUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0