Fantastico! Jodorowsky talks about his new film — naked

http://vimeo.com/77372213

Translation via internet friendwork:

I see no difference between poetry and the cinema. I see no difference between undressing the body and undressing the soul. That’s where I am, in full honesty, naked body, naked soul, in full poetry, the dance of reality. I don’t want to make commercial movies to make money so that I can live.

I want to make cinema that loses money, cinema that forces me to look for work in other mediums. To me, a movie is sacred. It must serve a purpose. To expand our consciousness. To unite our past, present and future.

To save the world. Of course, you cannot change the world, but *we* can begin to change. Do not ask me to present my movie. My film is a being. It speaks for itself.

I will give my honesty, my truth, in this confined space, where my infinite soul lives.

NEW JODOROWSKY FEATURE FILM “LA DANZA DE LA REALIDAD” DEBUTING AT CANNES

High-res trailer, info website on new Jodorowsky film debuting at Cannes:

http://www.pathefilms.com/film/ladanzadelarealidad

Low-res trailer:

English translation of voiceover and text from youtube contributr:

0:14 You and I are nothing but memories. 0:20 Never a reality. 0:24 Something is dreaming us. 0:27 Give yourself to the illusion. 0:29 Live. 0:30 (AFTER ‘HOLY MOUNTAIN’) 0:36 (AND EL TOPO ‘THE MOLE’) 0:42 (THE NEW FILM BY Alejandro Jodorowsky) 0:49: ‘The darkness will swallow everything’ 0:57 Everything you are going to be, you already are. 1:01 What you are searching for is already inside you. 1:05 Be happy for your sufferings, 1:09 Because of them, you will come to me.

"FOR LEONORA CARRINGTON" BY PETER LAMBORN WILSON (Arthur No. 31, Oct. 2008)

This poem by Peter Lamborn Wilson was published as a letter to the editor in the final issue of Arthur, No. 31 (Oct 2008). It was in response to the piece by Alejandro Jodorowsky in the previous issue, an excerpt from his newly translated memoirs, The Spiritual Journey of Alejandro Jodorowsky, detailing his informal apprenticeship to Leonora Carrington in Mexico City in the late ’50s…

FOR LEONORA CARRINGTON

# 1
Mexico City is absolutely.
Or was.
With a claridad that would’ve seemed
glossy as bone except for the fecality
of its plutonian fruit. Especially
Leonora Carrington – the secret hardness
of colonial baroque – its refusal to be
reasonable – its crown of owls

#2
Chocolate is Mexico’s great
contribution to Surrealism.
With unbroken incantations in the
voice of a lion prepare (on wild rocks)
a soup made of half a pink onion, a bit of
perfumed wood, some grains of myrrh, a
large branch of green mint, 3 belladonna pills
covered with white swiss chocolate, a
huge compass rose (plunge in soup for one minute)
Just before serving add Chines “cloud” mushroom
which has snail-like antennae &
grown on owl dung

#3
As modern Hermeticist she ranks with Fulcanelli
a Madame Paracelsa who tells yr
fortune in the sense of buried treasure.
It seems you yourself have psychic gifts
which are only exacerbated by her soups.
Molé as Dalí realized surrealizes all
dishes via its resemblance to excrement
e. g. over boiled lobsters (serve
with pink champagne). Shit you can sculpt.

#4
Like gunpowder which was invented solely
to exorcize demons – a secret passed
along the Silk Road to Roger Bacon
who unfortunately leaked the recipe
to the uninitiated – Carrington
embodies both the siesta & the
anti-siesta. A Madam Adam
with a handcranked gramophone with a horn
lacquered black with gold pinstriping that
plays only beeswax cylinders of Erik Satie
or Gesualdo. Here alone exile
attains an elegance & impassibility known
only to stoned Rosicrucians.

#5
To live absolutely. A tricky trajectory between
clinical dementia & the sloppy lace
curtain Irish kitchen gemütlichkeit that
usually passes (present company excepted
of course) for life outside literature &
even for true love. Or else it’s
the altitude — mushrooms & chocolate — under the
asphalt the bloodsoaked landfill —
cactus cowskulls &
drunken fusillades of flowers.

(NOTE: Soup recipe by L. Carrington; see The Spiritual Journey of Alejandro Jodorowsky.)

Peter Lamborn Wilson
New Paltz, New York

Arthur Radio Transmission #23 w/ Prince Rama of Ayodhya

At the center of a wind tunnel, we find ourselves stuck between perspectives. Is the world moving at a million miles around us, or are we the ones who are flying? This week, join hands with Hairy Painter and Ivy Meadows as they plunge into the unknown, fortified by Prince Rama of Ayodhya‘s ancient primordial howls, growling synthesizer moans and consciousness-melting pulsations, which swirl like electrified streams of sonic debris in the positively charged atmosphere… “Give yourself. Lose yourself.


STREAM: [audio:http://www.arthurmag.com/magpie/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/Arthur-Radio-Transmission-23-w_-Prince-Rama-of-Ayodhya-6-27-2010.mp3%5D

DOWNLOAD: Arthur Radio Transmission #23 w/ Prince Rama of Ayodhya 6-27-2010

playlistum lyeth beneathio…
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Arthur Radio Transmission #13: CLOUDS IN THE HERMAPHRODITIC MIRROR

This week’s collage, including illustration of Alejandro Jodorowsky by Will Sweeney and photo of Ira Cohen by Gerard Malanga. Double-click for fullscreen + scroll.

Let’s take a silver train underground
to the back streets of Atlantis
thru the corrugated iron roots &
then to the peak itself, to the
saddle of the last ridge past strewn
boulders,
finally meandering thru cascading snow
wearing miner’s hats on the perpendicular
dark night &
going up to the edge of the Southern Cross
where we reach at last the pure white
glistening glaciers &
begin to chant over bones in rags
of Scorpio
Armless in the sticky substance how could
they ever have had a chance?
Permission will not be required
only poems of blood offered to
the memory of TREE
It is not ice which is eternal
but the fury of the absolute
separating the void from the spirit
of man,
uplifting like life when it is used
against itself,
that is, Radical Love — & again, we
are reduced to living beings
Caught by the instant
we are taken away
We live in the imprint of the flame
& we are helmeted within the internal
blackness
where the ray begins its passage
across the indignant sky
Vain clouds uncaring in a tangle of
crossbeams
culminate in the hermaphroditic mirror…

– Ira Cohen (taken from “Atlantis Express”)

Read more of Ira’s dome-shaking poetry here.


Stream: [audio:http://www.arthurmag.com/magpie/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/Arthur-Radio-Transmission-13-4-11-2010.mp3%5D
Download: Arthur Radio Transmission #13 4-11-2010

This week’s playlist…
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