THE MALAI CHRONICLES.

I am pulling out of South Florida in two days, after six months here helping a friend gain two state licenses in the beauty business. We were successful in this regard, so she is now on her way to a better financial lifestyle. We have not raised her celebrity status on this trip, but I will be back at the end of the year to achieve that mission and we will...

Although I did not achieve a personal mission of connecting with the Miami arts scene, I did write a book titled: BEHIND GOD'S MASK and sent it out to three publishers, who claim to be self-publishers, with an objective of getting new authors published. In fact though, their interest is not that, rather, their first mission is to make money on largely the illusion of bringing (starry eyed) writers to the world. It is a lottery in reality, where you buy a ticket and pray to win. These "publishers" have no interest in whether your manuscript has any social value or is simply rhetorical garbage.. They first want your money and they rely on the numbers... sell as many tickets as possible. They rely on building up the ego of the starry-eyed authors.

I asked them to take a look at my manuscript to see if there was any chance for success. They bluntly told me to first sign the financial contract, otherwise, "nothing will happen". I told them they were full of salesman bullshit. That was the end of that deal. I will publish it myself. I will be the publisher. The exercise of putting the book together was well worth the energy output. BEHIND GOD'S MASK is now ready for publishing and I know the printing industry very well, having graduated from art school with a Diploma, Specializing in Graphic Design. So, I am heading back to my Jasper Bog to publish the book and also get ready for my road tour of art galleries across Canada.

It has been a tough undertaking trying to generate gallery interest. But my product has substantially improved since my last stage show, September 2013. I will be on the road with a new book and a new performance concept under the title: THE MALAI CHRONICLES.

 



THE MALAI CHRONICLES

 

This is my latest art project. It has been five years in development, with 35 years of art creations to call upon, as backup and support material.

Briefly stated: The Malai Chronicles is a theatrical, performance, art show that chronicles the life of the artist, as he investigates the ideological forces that have controlled his life and drove him into a life of fantasy, in and out of romance and other poignant tragedies. He sees his world as reality in his determination to exorcise the demonic, reptilian propaganda behind “God’s” mask, with which he has been indoctrinated since birth. He has documented his decades of investigation in a broad cross section of art disciplines, his creations in: visual art, writing, poetry, songs, sculpture, theatre, blogs, small hand-made books and has just completed a major book on the journey… the title of which is: BEHIND GOD’S MASK.

“God” is not the only subject of his chronicles. State and corporate capitalism are not spared his, oft-times crass and brutal, investigation, as he sees those ideologies intricately linked with religion, which itself has similar brutal and vested interests, all of which have been cleverly constructed into machine-like systemic instruments of oppression. No subject is off the table.

Specifically, the oppression of women, a new wave of community militarization, environmental destruction and button pushing media- generated hysteria are his primary focus of concerns, all of which is illustrated in his art, the tools for his show. Is it art or simply two and three dimension stationary and moving media. Or is it theatre. I cannot package it. Here is an example…

Monad’s Lover is a small book I had written sometime ago. This is a theatrical segment. The stage is set as described below. The artist reads from his book confirming his paranoia, his long standing fear of authority. It is all metaphoric, but inspired from real life situations and actions.

The Gallery become the stage… somewhat in the manner or suggestion of an artist studio. At one end, black fabric cloth is dropped down from the ceiling or from clothes line like wires if the ceiling is very high. There are three layers of these curtains about

four feet apart with openings, enough to allow random passage ways through and around. Throughout the gallery there are sculptures, paintings and other objects (creations of the artist).

There are chairs for the patrons.

In the opening of the first layer of curtains, directly in front of the audience is the iconic burning bush podium. There is a guitar, African drum, some musical equipment, a microphone.

The artist is out-of-sight between the third and last layer of multi coloured curtains and the wall. The lights go from dim down to dark. The performance is about to start. All is quiet. Suddenly, a crash and bang of falling objects, noisy items falling to the floor. A dozen or so cue balls roll through the curtains out to the audience lit by black light.

The artist tries to muffle his (apparent) frustration under his breath… “fuck…” another object drops to the floor… “Jesus Fuck…” but, the audience can hear his oaths as his digital head mic is on. All goes quiet.

The artist then begins to read from his book: MONAD’S LOVER. This is about Monad in discussion with Omm about the sexual exploits with his lover Arri Kanina and about the spy, Skopek, in their midst.

The artist wanders through and around the layers of curtains. He is dressed in black, with a headlamp as he reads from his book… disappearing and reappearing, with painted images flashing on a screen or walls that coincide with the paranoia expressed in his words. He speaks from authority. As he reads the parts about Arri, images of their art (the painting they have done together), are projected unto the walls. He reads about his sexual exploits with her, his fantasy, in poetic form.

In another scene, Skopek appears in a party event expressing his obvious pretence and his ignorance of the arts. His obvious disgust for his own failure as an artist comes across as arrogance, criticism of the system that rejected him. So he spies disdainfully for the other side and he is not very kind or cultured in his mannerisms. He is a cheap drunk.

At the end of the reading, the artist finished off, standing at the burning bush podium, obviously a metaphor regarding the ten

commandments. On the podium is a large bible-like looking book, titled: The Book Of Monad. At the bottom of the bush is a small flower pot containing a green shrub, implying hope… secular hope for the world though, loaded with ambiguity.

The artist disappears behind the curtain, straps on his guitar and Jester hat and begins singing his circus-like song: The Not So Merry Go Round and walks out through the audience singing the song, with a modified slide on the index finger to give a tinny chaotic-ness as might be found in a circus. But, the lyrics are anything but playful or the shooting ducks in a row for a teddy bear. Yet, the irony of the message could easily be paralleled metaphorically to a circus atmosphere, as representing life…. with the artist jester foretelling the future.

The artist moves on to read from his new book on the subjects of the ’secular cell” and the “castrated” man, that misunderstood creature, now mired in media hysteria, snuffing out the evolutionary imperative of this “predator” man and his instinctual relationship to the natural woman endowed with feminine curves. As go the curves so go the predator. The Malai Chronicles argue for an intellectual global debate on this instinctual predator man, that has generated such gratuitous intrigue… of modernity.

All the material for this performance art work has been completed, with the only task remaining to place them together with smooth transitions, for a performance piece lasting; one hour or; one and one half hours or; two hours… depending on allowable time frames or the audience endurance.

 

Although the piece addresses some current, serious human and societal issues, there are some very touching, romantic components filled with humour in a song titled: European Women coupled with sparkling glass images from “The Boob House” (officially the Nile House, the artist’s original architectural pièce de résistance. And, another bit of humour with: No Bad Habits.

 

 

Lastly… to round out the night, a Q&A period.

 

 

The Set

 

Spatially, I envision an art gallery space, where at one end the curtains are hung from the ceiling or lines. There are easels throughout the gallery upon which various art works are displayed. Two sculptures are strategically located in relation to the “stage” (curtain area) to be easily integrated into the readings and performance.

All the props (artworks, electrical and musical equipment, costuming, etc) travel with me in/on my van). I would arrive around mid-day, setup the props, do the show in the evening and break down the set next morning and be out of there by noon or earlier. If time is not so tight, I could do two nights or more, depending on demand.

The tour will start in Halifax and move across the country… from July through to November. So scheduling needs to match that time frame.

The Malay Chronicles is meant to stimulate the mind and wrench the gut with humour.

Rod Malay

 

　

 

From: Dawson Wambolt, Halifax Psychologist

Sent: Sunday, October 14, 2012 6:23 PM

To: rod_malay@hotmail.com

Subject: Thoughts on ANA

Rod,

After I saw your sculpture 'ANA' last night it had been burning in my mind. I was talking to you still trying to unpack the thoughts and feelings that your piece elicited, and they were related to concepts such as 'femininity' and 'primal'. You had mentioned also during the course of our conversation about determinism and that ANA came from memory, but you were uncertain to what exactly the memory was related to. As I left your studio space with a pamphlet in hand about ANA, something began to dawn on me, and I thought to share it with you in this email.

I believe I had encountered an experience last night of what Jung would term as synchronicity. As I was leaving I began to think about the name you had given ANA, and my thoughts wandered to a former instructor of mine, Dr. Ana Mozol, who is a Jungian analyst. Her work focused on womens' depth psychology, particularly the concept of the demonic lover and the archetype of womanhood, which is a concept that has been lost and eroded away by culture. This archetype is something that is primal and unrecognizable, let alone comparable to any point of reference available today about femininity. I feel as though your work ANA embodies much of this hazy archetype, typified by an unmistakeable female form that is

decidedly fertile and birthing, yet is lacking in facial features. or even a head for that matter. The lines that hold the form where a head may be seem to simultaneously convey a loss of identity, and that ANA embodies the everywoman.



In my less finished thoughts about your piece I also get the sense that ANA personifies the Shadow as well as ego, based on both her colouration and materials used to construct her that is juxtaposed with her clearly displayed femininity. The concept of the Shadow represents an opposite of the ego image, which typically contains qualities that the ego does not identify with, yet still possesses. I feel as though the woman you were talking to before me who found ANA to be cold, and something she could not resonate with, was reacting to this representation of Shadow. Separate all you may, the Shadow is still a part of self, whether it makes a person uncomfortable or not (as you may figure, the Shadow is typically something that makes those who refuse to embrace it extremely uneasy).

Had you not named this piece ANA, I would have never probably drawn the connection to all of these concepts introduced to me by Dr. Ana Mozol. It would seem the memory that you drew ANA from was perhaps something more collectively unconscious than previously thought. None the less, this is what was brought up for me when I was viewing the piece.

I can't wait for Thursday's event at noon. I think it will be quite the time.

Dawson

 



 

 

 

MacD

I LOVE ANA!!! and I could spend a good deal of time chatting with Dawson about his perceptions. His Jungian references intrigue. I'm taken with her sheer size and strength (steel), fluid lines, firmly planted, and her abundantly reproductive womb-belly, spilling forth the building blocks of society by generation. I love her.

A SAD MAN

This sculpture evolved out of media hysteria in Canada on a high profile radio personality charged with female abuse. The idea slipped visually out of my consciousness, I executed it and put it out there without substantive explanation, as I will leave that for now. Viewer feed back is what I hope to get before I reveal what I see about it.

I hope it is seen as a “work of art” and not as a reaction against the wave of social media that fundamentally castrates “the man” in society for his predatory instincts.

Are we not a society of predators, metaphorically, physically feeding on others and animals for survival. A man preys upon a woman for the purpose of procreation and not instinctually for pleasure. He has no control over his drive for pleasure, the DNA trick of nature to con him into the act of species continuity. Her luscious curves draw him to her.

This explains the bourqa in Sharia law… to moderate those predatory instincts… an interesting intellectual/philosophical invention for the times. Head scarves, hats with veils, skirts down to the ankles are not far back even in our own Western culture.

We have to stop being hysterical about this and stop categorizing women as victims, that consequently lead to castrating the male. We need to let the predator live least we end up with an abnormal society and maybe even the death of civilization.

I am certainly not into implementing Sharia law, but how do we allow the predator to live. How do we socialize that behaviour without destroying the instinct and the vitality of the male and indeed the sexual beauty of the vital woman.

 





Rod Malay

A graduate of NSCAD University 1969

I would perhaps describe myself as somewhat of a bohemian artist, though I find it difficult to package myself, having experimented in all artistic disciplines, including architecture, graphic and industrial design. I once identified myself as an activist, but that is incorrect ,

stimulating discussion, not confrontation, while generating humour, is my objective.

Over the last five years I have travelled the roadways of North America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, from the Arctic Circle to the Gulf coast, writing stories and creating art. I have been covered in virtually all the major newspapers, TV news and art magazines across Canada, including McLeans Magazine, from the

early 80’s to the present.

Art is not my mission. The state of the world is. But art is my most cherished vehicle to express views, on every social issue dealing with the ideologies of religion, state and corporate capitalism that destroy civilization and this magnificent habitat of the universe while constantly in conflict with the natural secular/cellular constructs of human nature.

Rehearsals for The Malai Chronicles, will start in early June. I am seeking venues for one, up to multiple performances in each location, whatever is available, for July through to November 2015.
You can find me on Facebook, Rod Malay, Halifax Nova Scotia and on my blog: www.shakethedevilofftour.blogspot.com

 

 

 



The two oil-on-canvas paintings are from two different series of works, about 20 years apart and obviously from two different mind sets and two radically different styles….

The latest painting, 2012, titled EJOP (European Journal of Psychology) and the earlier painting, 1993 titled: The Laughing Stock both demonstrate a radically changed intellectual development, synonymous with greater mental and artistic liberation from the early ideological indoctrination. These differences will be obvious as the performance art piece moves along.  



Rod Malay  

rod_malay@hotmail.com                                    www.shakethedevilofftour.blogspot.com

 



 

 



 

　

 

 





THE GRADUATION - FINAL COUP

I might label  this an academic coup, a contrarian degree from the University At The Door Of The Universe UoU.

Eight months in the writing, five years collecting, creating and living on the road and 72 years of memories and the book is finished: BEHIND GOD'S MASK

I should have a mind blowing conclusion here, but I cannot at this moment come up with even one poetic line. Yet, through this eight month blogging process, that resulted in memory recall back to my early childhood life, I have actually made a monumental discovery, that disentangles me from all religious doctrines and debilitating, fabricated social constructs, not just intellectually, but also philosophically. I am now convinced of the judicious secularity of the human mind. And I do not speak from authority, but conviction, gained from experience, which I am labelling ‘poetic authority’ or more commonly, ‘gut feeling’, which has substantial empirical data backup, in both genetic and digital libraries.

Now, freshly graduated, like a student from the halls of academia, humbled by the process, I must step out onto the critical streets of the world, one on one, face to face, body to body in real time and off the screens of digital magic. This is not a fantasy.

Connecting with social media along the way, through my blog, Face book, Twitter and emails has been a delightful and therapeutic exercise. I crossed many borders, as persona no grata, to places where no reputable artist should travel, politics, religion, social issues of the day, media commentary voicing my opinion in a crass and disconnected manner. It seemed necessary, as my belly mind was full of garbage that over shadowed my ambitions of philosophical purity… he must not embroil himself in the day to day events.

An artist must be above all of that “loose cannon ball” reaction, while commenting, with his art, on the deeper forces that motivate humanity. His art must be the messenger, without verbal commentary. He must not be narcissistic. The ambiguous nuances in his art must explain him, to the liberated mind, lest it/he has failed as a messenger.

Art must be left to the critics to explain to the masses. That is their job and duty, as the layman cannot be chastised for not getting the point. Though it is not always important to “get the point” if one feels the point. “Gut” feeling is a universal language, which no words can explain and are not necessarily needed. The artist creates from the gut and is not required to understand or to explain.

I will not explain A SAD MAN, the last image in this book. It will offend some, maybe many, but the viewer must investigate his/her reactions and feelings, as the artist cannot do this since he cannot read minds. Yet, the triggers that elicit reactions are universal.

A SAD MAN spontaneously arrived out of a long series of events regarding sexual abuse against women, couple with the vitriolic social backlash against men. An instant picture flashed in the synapses of my brain which I acted upon with out analysis, but with a duty to perform.

There are social forces at play in this work of art that sit deep under what will be the initial surface reactions.

Now that I have my degree from the University of the Universe (UoU), I no longer have further need to examine my motivations. I am liberated. So I can get onto to perfecting the articulation of my creative energies that were long ago smothered by the propaganda embedded in regressive dogmatic and fabricated doctrines by the vested interest bodies of this human society.

Phew… that was a journey. Okay let’s see…am I really an artist or just a foul mouth, ignorant rhetoricalist. I still plan to use, unapologetically, those eloquent, cultural and universal colloquialisms of my mother… fuck, goddamn and others that may pop spontaneously off my tongue from time to time. I have certainly burned at the stake, those theocratic doctrines from my genetic bank, but there is no coin is denying one’s heritage and culture of those early days in that royal, rural forest habitat.

As a highwayman, the Secular Cell-way offers a clear vision of where I go next. This book is as I see it, an essential element of the package I am offering to venues around North America.

When you reach a point in life where you do not blame anyone or do not judge anyone or do not expect handouts and you accept life as it comes and you are ready to present yourself as you are, without fear of ridicule or judgement then, you are at total peace with yourself and filled with confidence. Cannot say that I am actually there, but I am feeling these states like I have never before. How did this happen.

Intellectually, I argued that it was possible, if one got everything out, as Thomson Jefferson said, then that would be the therapy that would solve all or most of one psychological issues. We should remember that the more we keep things in, hiding them from those around us, out of embarrassment or fear or abiding by accepted mores of day, they then establish corrosive juices in our psyche, that isolate us socially.

I was not sure if that, intellectual fireside chat I had with myself years ago was anything more than a playful fantasy. However, I stuck with the mission, but did I succeed. Since I started writing this book I have basically been in isolation, physically in a small condo in South Florida looking after two dogs and making meals for my Celebrity friend. My only significant exposure to the outside world was in discussions with MacD who was a welcome intellectual challenge to my ideas. She connected me to a measure of reality, that kept my mind active and alert. Of course, I also had the internet/social media… news in a box pumped into my enclosure like propaganda…

Pavlovian conditioning… pushing buttons 18 hours a day.

Though, here I am now, with a degree: Passionne de Contraire and will soon be leaving my box… to face the real world…. or that of it which is real, as there is a lot of unreal out there in the coo coo’s nest… enough to fuck up a stable mind. But I am used to that and I did not have to seek psychiatric services or become a Buddhist to harmonize my mind and body with that chaotic world, where always one will find flowers between the cracks of concrete and asphalt. I simply used the mental and financial practicality of common sense… that resulted in no medical bills.

Let me point out the obvious. A substantial degree of content in this book is on the subject of “GOD”. That is because I see this ideology as existing in virtually every aspect of society, deeply entrenched in our constitutions, in spite of our imperious claims of secularity. It is so broadly webbed in our daily life, language and laws that we are gratuitously even defensively accepting it as reality.

Everyday, I feel and see it around me, as I am convinced this omni potent dynamism of “God” is nothing more than biological energy forces at play in the hundred billion or so neurons of activity in the cellular structures of our minds.

　

　


MY LAST POST

This is my last post on “gofundme”. It was a financial failure. The organization did not live up to it’s advance billing. Friends told me it was silly. But there are a some successes. And congratulations to those winners. But it depends on the cause. An artist trudging along on an ambiguous journey, investigating the causes and effects of humanity, as valid as it may be, does not pull at the “heart strings”. I realized this early on, but decided to continue, as the format, limited as it was, offered another wide new theatrical stage upon which to present my material. But it is now time to put it in the past, but this is not the only part of my life I am putting in the past.

“God” is going there also, to the cobwebbed attic. I need to make no further comments on that subject. I am finished with that myth, that began for me 72 years ago and hung around for almost thirty five years, before my consciousness kicked in. The journey of that exorcism started in the early 80’s. It was a struggle and if it was narcissistic, I did not recognize it at that time. My philosophical rationalization was that I had to dig inside myself to find the answers to the woes of civilization on planet earth. I even prayed to “God” for answers. Of course, nothing came of that.

After five years of travelling the highways and by-ways of North American, living in my vehicles or garrets or bog shacks, I have finally put the verbal and visual record of those journeys into a book titled: BEHIND GOD‘S MASK. I believe I stayed true to the original objective, to investigate the inner forces and my contributions to the woes of this magnificent planet.

I am no longer in doubt about the existence of “God” and can clearly express my opinion on that matter. If there is a god out there, he/she/it is surely not going to resemble any visual or verbal concoction invented by the frightened, manipulated and under-utilized human brain for the last few thousand years. Science has desecrated the traditional myth around that, while not confirming that there is no god, as biology has not yet conclusively explained the origin of life.

The human mind is now liberated and filled with a new level of optimism and anticipation, as am I. Yes, the wars continue and there conceivably will be another “apocalyptic” style blood bath and destruction. But, if the human race survives that, it will be a better world, at least for a lengthy period of time, if we can control the default gene in our DNA.

BEHIND GOD’S MASK will be going out next week to the number of publishers who have expressed interest. And I will be carrying copies with me for the next 72 years. Hope to see you on the highways and by-ways… cannot wait to see what comes next, as I move from this internet armchair n back to the streets with my: Galleria Unplugged.
Although I believe there in no "God", as I have been told throughout my life time, I will not be proselytizing to anyone on the good or evil of their beliefs. I have reached my position in this matter and have told you so, according to the wisdom of Thomas Jefferson: "We ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other". It is not off the table. I will always be open to discussing the issue, as it is fascinating, embracing and intellectually inspiring to wonder about the deep and complex space in the inner universe, with its hundred billion neurons.

You are not my enemy if you believe in "God". I will live and let live and get on to looking through new telescopes... without the fear of authority looking over my shoulder.

I am heading out of South Florida and back to the Bog in three weeks to prepare for my journey across Canada. While in the Bog I will be practising my musical craft, the most frustrating and seemingly unattainable mission in my life. Musicians have long been my heroes.

Not certain what my next instalments will be on this Blog, but back in my Jasper Bog I will be practising the music I have written over the years and will be making videos. Let's see what comes of it. If I feel I will not be too ill crafted, I will post some here to see if I receive any feedback. One thing is for certain. Any reference to the traditional "God" will be incidental coincidental. That "God" is no longer a functioning practical factor in my life. I say this without anger, or regret, but with the joy and anticipation of the freedom road ahead... liberated from the myths while re-enfranchised with my creative powers. I no longer fear the authority of the myth makers.


Selamat tinggal



　

Xrod






　

　

6 pgs 1921 words