...heavy on the light

"a warm bath and a clay facial and i feel like i can tackle the world... and just go on." secluded in his new studio/bedroom, and looking all the colour of an avocado, mark e merrill is spotted leaving his most recent comment for the time being... but it's soon back to the grind for this picasso... "still, there are as many questions as there are colors to contrast, but i am rather pleasantly de-anxietized at the moment. things that were working into potentially tense situations, simply looked differently the next day, just as they will tomorrow. it's really that blatant..."

DEK OVMEM TAROT

22 Images of the Major Arcana soon to be revealed!

The DEK OVMEM responds to the questions "What is Out There?" and "Why is it There?"

My particular method of Divination is Influenced by the Great Occult and Literary Artists of - Crowley, Kilbey, Burroughs - to Name but Three. It is Inspired by Movements of Neo-Paganism, Post-New-Age Shamanism and the Magnificent Beginnings of New Possibilities Opened By the Discoveries of Quantum Consciousness. Both Music and Image, Sound and Form confer, the old ideas binding the world and her people must eventually breakdown. it is Now the Ancient Mysteries and Unforeseen Future Unfold into the Present Moment. It is Here We can Partake in the Knowledge of all Things, Times, Places, and People. It is There we may receive what before was not recognized. Perception Projects Perspective. What we see, have seen, and will see is singularity against a multi-faceted location within reality, May it Please You! 

MEM

11.13

(continuing) evolution of a god-emperor

the experience of noosphere becomes the image of the chariot in dek ovmem

Image of the 'Chariot' (traditionaly in the possition of VII)

the thing of itself is itself as it is; it defines itself; it is itself; it is and will be forever always

here is the image of 'aleph' from the first card of the first full deck of tarot - purchased some time between 85 - 88. of the 78 images of this deck, only three - by hapenstance - are currently in my possesion. personal inquires will reveal the other two:

.:nature, relationship, meaning of life, everything:.

the image of this trump, the lovers, has the most meaning, memory, or personal connection to an essence of what is felt, what is expressed by my very core self, or idea of what reality may be. and sure that may all be heavy trippe for you to digest, but the experience of seeing this 'card' for the first time is only matched in my memory, by the time i first glanced at the greater mysteries.

in my heart, this is the expression, and essence of the TAROT. i am tired now in a way that i am not use to. it is still a healthy tired.. in that the movement forward is toward the greater work, yet the tired is existential in nature and systemic. i have been working for years to correct this situation. and now i work harder...

first preview of "divine origins of historiographic comedy"

... here now, well thats what i'm presenting it as the beginning of the divine orders of introduction now for some apologies first off -- i should be made to read through the rough (but ready!) text myself first -- but as i am anxious to disseminate the coming assemblages -- i have published this text its rawest of mused [or mussed] form for what i would say is the best of two possible reasons: 1) i am lazy and will eventually agonize over revisions, endlessly and to a fault. 2) i wish to expose whatever it is in the process of writing these texts while deepening my own awareness.

In the words other than that of the great DaDaist, i am become "The bachelor Striped Bare for His Bride."

my love and devotion for the TAROT has remained, i believe, the single most influencing force in the expression, not simply, of my artistry, but in my fundamental projection of an external as well as internal presence. i wish i could say such a presence had much to do with me, but i cannot. i have not had nearly enough strength or fortitude to confront such blatantly brilliant honesty within myself ...if i had, i would have seen the unity of all things, and known that it is this what i have been chasing after all these years...





Divine Origins of Historiographic Comedies


“Does the presence of oneself confirm or deny the experience of reality?” or “Does the absence of God prove that a God does not exist?” Both of these psudo-questions are rhetorical examples existential statements, yet can be distilled to further refine the essence of my questions. Is experience reality [as that which] and what is not experienced unreal? Such unpardonable queries can be infinitely composed in a vast array and will always be contain by the same infinite outcome of stalemate. The philosophy adapted to the fundamental idea of the unanswerable was, of course, the 1888 pre-bla of Existentialism. It is this likeness which best embodies the purveyor of occult science, any other approach dabbling within the depths of such murkiness classifies one instantly as either a Master or an overly advert compulsive gramating fool. Yet, as always, when presented with the ultimatum of dualism I tend to seek the middle way, thus the path of the Initiate. The origin of an existential essence at the core of our being [] is much the fault of what surrounds us. Matter, or what we know as solid, substantive form is a distinct minority within our cognizant Universe [perhaps excluding the presence of many call dark matter, which has yet to be fully experienced or realized.] Nothingness, or what we conceive of as absence, null and void comprises a far greater ratio of material reality, both on the macrocosmic and microcosmic scale. The path we often seek will be the path we are most likely found. If we orientate the picture just slightly, sometimes other things come into view, and when presented with the same rhetorical or redundant scenario of “the sound of falling trees in the forest” we are now able to contextualize and, of course, like any well-preformed Magick, the secret’s been there along.

[] Contra Science does not boast divine origins, and most begrudgingly admits to anything labeled in the order of paranormal or extra-sensorial phenomena at all [but it does admi mmmmm t]. Clearly the tradition of modern science commits the egregious sin of what can be called mono-contextualism (the pendulum swings of sciences will always be steep). The ability to see from an inordinate number of perspectives, simultaneously, will both deprive and isolate the scientific method and its objectives into obscurity. The awaiting scientific paradigm is formulated in the emerging question: what comes next ? Every generational age must deal with the immediate concerns at hand, and the concerns of the present age are most often rooted in the actions of previous generations. This was the way of our ancestors, one of the last echoing warnings barely still audible over a parrie wind. There is no need here, at the moment, to deconstruct cultural climates [although that is the total need of cultures climate). Without the generational foresight or hindsight we shift instaniously into popular culture. It is obvious when I look about my environment that I can survey little else. How can one even be certain of [] the nature or reason of what one is seeing – if there is no other experience which to differentiate or qualify it with? The assumption that the only definition of reality, is as we experience it, seems stifled if not comical, and infinitely sad because there is little choice of personal objectivity contained behind the generational force field [memory] of the subjective real. The hierarchies of collective and generational intelligence are conducted through the most efficacious of means. For this reason alone it has been the role of nature to transmute the code of life not through oral or cultural disseminations, but through the genesis of genetic and biological evolution, the journey of chemical transmigration, if you will. What is seen in nature is often mimicked - the moth who passes as a bee, the aphids cleverly disguised as thorns, a venom-less snake puffing and rattling – each has transcribed the collective intelligence of life into a practical experience suited for the larger concerns of its reality – chiefly better odds of survival. Other collective forms of intelligence are equally compelled to find ways across numerous generational divides in time and space.

Each stratosphere or link in the chain of life contains and is contained by its own intelligence. No intelligence is inherently better or worse than any other intelligence – it simply is bound by the parameters specific to that intelligence. The threshold of intelligence is always guarded by the tri[] of what can be just [] ability, capability, and willingness.


.

Quantum entanglement

the image of the lover yields the most beauty - and the most peril. the idea of the lover is complex. the most significant image i have seen is from the Deck of the Hermetic TAROT.

There a woman or man is chained to heavy boulders while the sea rages and tempests about them, and even in this, the greatest of danger, remain unaware of a looming venomous and monstrous serpent ready to strike at their heart. At hand the hero, the other, the lover holding tight his sword of righteousness ready to either free his lover or destroy the beast.

once you see this image, you will know the meaning of life, relationships, everything. i will post that image form my Hermetic Deck when i can get to the scanner, meantime i struggle with my own image of love. i know i can say what it is, what it means intellectually to me, yet visually, i am not satisfied - because i do not see yet what i feel... the lover is one of the more difficult segments i have come back to. i plant to approach it again,

From the seed of which the flower of life blooms

Death is the seed of which the flower of life blooms now, forever and eternal. The very fabric and fundamental mind of life is distracted by the idea of death. In abstract, death is contemplated in terms of absence, loss, and regret. The images of death are all about us. Culturally, and throughout history, death has been celebrated within varying degrees and shades of meaning and ritual. Biologically, death represents certain inevitabilities relative to the functions of life. Esoterically, death is the absolute function of life, a transformation which provides the ultimate purpose of life. To know death one must know life, and in this sense both life and death are undifferentiated and both equal. The state of non-being and being cross, and one can see beyond the illusion of life and death. This state of transcendence is recognized among the ancients, and the power of this knowledge has been imbedded within every organism, every cell and every molecule of DNA. This state of being “the undifferentiated state of all matter” is the key to the evolution of life and all mankind.

shine on you crazy diamond

returning from kittery, maine

/ t l u c c :0: 0 :0: c c u l t \

"the tarot", according to the filmmaker and occult master, alejandro Jodorowsky, could "create a soul." folklore, mystery, magic, a gypsy traveler overlooking ones fate... the 'system' of the tarot represents many things to many people. in the most academic of scenarios, the tarot points back to eden and the ancient mysteries of 'the tree of life' - or - what is knows among theologians, theosophist, and religious practitioners alike, as the kabbalah. Aleister Crowley, despite the kabbalah's own sphere of mystery, first made clear in the early part of the 1900's the connection between these to orders or systems of information.

Aleph, the "reconstructed name of the first letter of the Proto-Canaanite alphabet" connects the "zero" to the "beginning." Representing 'truth' Aleph speaks the name of god, mathematically defined an infinite set of points. Aleph may be also revealed as the mystery of the 'occult' - that which is hidden or obscured from view, often to be made know or manifest by apocalypse - or the unveiling of mystery.

the color of the occult, according to crowley was a light-lime green. (continued)

peaceful union is the priestess

Daughter of the Mystery of the Night, the Priestess Unites the Dark with the Light, the Known with that of the Unknown. The Priestess is the ruler of light, the ruler of wisdom, but also holds the enigma of mystery. She communicates to the living as well as the dead, but she herself is the secret among secrets. She will speak in mysteries and in dreams. Throughout the ages she has been given many names, Eve, Oracle, ISIS, Sphinx, Babylon. Divine will spoken through the Feminine.

A wars being waged and the worlds just a stage

Divine will through the rage of heaven. The Emperor holds the keys to the secrets of the gateways to the eternal. Equally “non-concerned” with enlightenment or the enslavement of the world, the Divine seeks to know itself. As nations are born and decay, the Divine is moved none. To know the nature of the Emperor one must define oneself, not in or as "what one is", or with what qualities, talents, or innate sense of goodness one may posses. The Divine self is known to the degree of which one is not, cannot or will not participate in. It is only the sense of boundary, that can define an individual.

telepath

"seven is the card of strange transmutation, seven is the card of female intuition, seven is the card you know not knowing, seven is the shape of things not seen, but showing."

7 is the sacred seal

female intuiton has been known as blind justice, blind peace, but today there is no peace only telepath. telepathy is "further" knowing, as in knowing the truth from a lie.

if there is no justice, there is no truth.

7 removes truth from the void, it transmutes an occult knowledge to a more opaque resonance..

"see this in my colors..."

...searching for her child

the eye of toth as the moon

EGYPTIAN IBIS AS IMAGE OF THE STAR

new mythology of the space age

william often refered to the darker side of his character as the 'ugly spirit' - he invisioned this part of himself as a seprate entity that would, at times, attempt to invade the very essance of his being. his efferts to ward off this 'evil' spirit was, according to burroughs, a struggle which would remain for the duration of his life.

burroughs represents as the 'hermit', an inner-awairness of this 'dark' presence, its potential for self-distruction, as well as the necessity of the 'darkness' each of us as a channel for the light to travel through. when we are honest and confront the 'dark' we will come to realize that all of our fears are products of the unknown, and that the mysterious forces of life are actualy clues to an inner potential, which reflects within each individual the awesome power of the universe.

the awairness of this inner-self and its connection to the most powerful and fundamental mechanics of the universe is also an awairness of the struggle to maintain to maintain ballance. for this reason it is often necessary to withdraw from the pack, to look within, to feel that a sense of emptiness is a necessary part of the fullness of life.

ovm

burroughs as the 'hermit'

"from idea to image" Burroughs as the quintessential 'hermit' or 'prophet' of the space age... the hermit here inhabits the L.O.D. i often wish i could have contacted burroughs when he was alive, and sometimes feel great saddness that this most brillant mind is no longer in the world. his voice was the voice of reason, the voice of time, a great gentle soft wind, a painful wisdom of the aeons, only burroughs lived... to call down the sky.


'example' of an 'idea' of the image, and then further refinement of the symbolism, atmosphere, aestetics, feelings, continuity amon the other images, etc. it's all in fluxx until it's right, and you won't know it until you see it...
ovmem

Sea Point Beach Two Views

Three Views of a Lover

portrait of the artist's father

"portrait" june 2007

sweet summer

"Front Porch and View of Neighbors House with Flag" 2007

post

tonight

me as i am, or the most recent

me as depected, and if one

would ask, "what does that mean"

one could say alot.

but that's always the question,

isn't?

back in black

back in the studio for a 'month of clean up' after the born free radicals exhibit at the main street museum. ready? set? go...

...more: painting, digital imagrey, web-design in the works.

also, mem goes wiki

MEM

From MSM Lecture

Mark E Merrill at the Main Street Museum

brf

look here see born free radicals 3/23/07look here

moog

the 2004 documentary of bob moog proves to be a most enlightening journey "sliding backwards" into the analogs of sound synthesizing, but most interesting are bob's musings on such topics as mind/machine interfacing as well as his meandering philosophical insight. gurus of sound include sterolab, keith emerson, and sun ra. not to be missed out. mark e merrill

moog (2004)888

born free radicals

Art is a substitution for life, an inversion, not a memory or representation, but a mirror through which enters a bizzaro universe.



The Main Street Museum is stunned to announce -- "Born Free Radicals" -- a glimpse into a strange, color saturated science of artist Mark E Merrill

Born Free Radicals is not art, it is, in one sense, the actual physical overlay of the Periodic Table onto 20th Century trends of individual artworks and artists. And in another, it is something else, entirely.

A heroic Periodic Table of Modern Elements at the Museum's front gallery
Exhibited simultaneously with New Ready-made Minis -- A Dada concept run amok

___


Thursday March 22 - Saturday May 26, 2007

___


Opening Reception

Friday 23 March 5 to 8 pm
Champagne and lemon cake
Sir Isaac Luxon’s Jazz Combo

___


Artists Lecture by Mark E Merrill “Elements in Crisis”

w/ Q & A & Evasive Tactics
Sunday April 1st 4 - 6 pm


888studio260888

999elements in crisis999

somethingelse

Here we are at the edge of the world,
Where all possibilities are distilled into the pure potential
Of your mind

Even the simplest
Of questions
Are sheer impossibilities

What is this?
Why is this?

Playing over and over like a mantra
Eventually releasing us from the limitations
Of knowledge

Our ever increasing need
Of need
Compels us further

Into the void of insecurity
Reluctant and avoidant
Of the gaze

Transforms cities into dust
Mountains into sand
Reality into an uncertainty, perplexity

And complexity
We are powerless against
The forces of the unknown
Here in lies the strength
Of acceptance
Transmutating

The attachment
To what is
Or what is not

The change we must effect
Is forever fluid
The moment we cling to it

To posses it
It is
Forever gone

Dream of now
And
Forever good

street light people

shadows in day light
shadow in memory
shadow is the dream within the dream

shadow is time, shadow is illusion
only the shadow knows
wherever your shadow goes

my life is unlived
hidden from pain
and joy

unreal is my city
unless i live
in its shadow

unreal am i
looking to find
the least resistance

the fastest route
to the surface
to breathe the shadow air

intent
on robbing the shadow
of it secrets

the shadow
won't be held

dance
as we dance
a thousand lightyears

your shadow shows me
the shadow
of my form and substance

we notice
our movements are in unison
how the night

will destroy us
how we will destroy
ourselves

unless we move towards
and stay here
in the light

extracting exact distraction

wht=
ths

what is
this

why
is
this

why
ASK?

why know?

who knows?

so, besides these random
questions what else?

where to begin?

augh, you see, that's

the issue it seems, as it seems

i've already done

such.

o.k. for example, today - what the swtfuk was that all about?

like every day or most other days,

and you know,

that could be it.



something that isn't like something else.

a time that isn't like

all the rest,

the mindless labor

or concerns that seem to use up a day,

hanging on hold

on a phone tree

useless time.



it is

when you don't know.

when the expereince isn't

familiar. what happens then?

what is the mind doing then?

is it asking questions?

is it reacting, is it acting?

does it want

what it knows?


yes

no?


so today, what was that all about.

i can't say.

so i am bound to repeat it

one way or another

and

some i must

some i want to

others i wish i could just let go.



mem

white sucker blues

Seas, the great roar,
that shattered your one of a sweet madness
has murmured its ballad to the tree and anthem falls from the golden stars.

ii


o pale mine

I come to you, so silent in the night
so mans starlight
you come seeking, in the night, the flowers snow does to a fire;
your great visions is there will be mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, all wind, that, your emotional rescue

yeah, the other night, will be your knight in shining armour
coming to your escapes a small rustle of wings;
- a mysterious ophelia mine
you will be mine, you will be mine, all floats like a great lily;
floats very slowly, child the great mountains of norway
that spoke to you in rumors to your dreaming mind;
it was your heart freedom! what a dream, oh poor crazed girl!
you melted times she rouses, in a slumbering alder,
some nest from waters;
the shivering willows weep on her thousand twisting your great hair,
brought strange with the nothing I can say
nothing I can do
to change your blue unfolds in a wreath
her great veils rising and falling picked
and that he has seen on the water, stealthy, so pekinese
ill be your savior, steadfast and true
ill down the long black river.
for more than a thousand morning sate mute at your knees!

heaven! love! house
yeah, baby, I’m crying over you

don’t you whew
yes, you could be mine
tonight and every night
I come to your emotional rescue
ill come to your can hear carried off by a river!
- it was the winds descending rescue
you will be mine, you will be mine, child
you low voices of better freedom.

it was a breath of a the sighs of the nights;

it was the voice to him as baby
I’m like a child baby
child yeah, I’m like and lying in her long veils...
- in the far-off woods you ruffled water-lilies are sighing around her;
at lying ophelia! beautiful as snow!
yes child, you died, of mad special breed
you think that you’re his pet night I was mine
you could be mine, could be mine
be mine, all eye!

iii


- and the poet says that by all in her long veils
white ophelia floating, like a which dissolve in sleep
ill be your savior, steadfast emotional rescue

yeah, you should be mine, mine, know animal quiet
ill be your savior, steadfast

the promises were never made to keep?
just like the across in
you can’t get out
you’re just a poor girl in a rich listening to the song of nature
in the groans of the child's heart, too human and too soft;
it was a strangled your words
- and fearful infinity terrified the desert with a fine arab charger

on the years her and true
ill come to your emotional rescue
ill come to crying
like a child, yeah, I was crying
crying like a pale knight, a poor madman
who one april that you them true
ill come to your emotional rescue
ill come to your mind
I’m so in love with you
you’re too deep emotional rescue

I was dreaming last night
last from sound the mort.

for more than a great lily. mine
I will be your knight in shining armour
riding dreaming
how you’d be mine, but I was emotional night, crying
crying baby, yeah I’m crying
yeah I’m like a calm black water where the stars are sleeping
white shoulder,
the rushes lean over her wide, dreaming brow. evening breeze.

the wind kisses her breasts and your child, like a child
like a child

you think you’re years sad ophelia
has passed, a white phantom, handsome