28 Jan 2009—14 Feb 2009
I cannot destroy that dream
When the dream seemed like a good trip.
When the bohemian vision went beyond four walls and a roof, past the deadened washed out roads of 50’s conservatism and war. They built utopias to stay free.
Along the way they kept the rain off their stained glass windows, looms, ponchos, backyard tie-dye buckets and whole earth books. Houses and communities were built, light on money and societal support, nonetheless they drew together to support themselves. They built heavily with their imagination. Light transient structures that facilitated free movement and growth. Appropriating ancestral forms and structures, they made them their very own. Breathed light into an ancient darkness. They built utopias to create and maintain a supportive collective space. A vibrant non-judgmental critical place in and through which to flourish and grow. It didn’t have to be necessarily located in any particular place; it was more a shared state of mind.
But at what point were their ideals abandoned, when did they lose inspiration and give up on the dream?
And like the works of Hermann Hesse, the paradoxes never stopped, never stop. The future unknown, the ambiguities and incongruities of the present were as weird and wonderful then as they are now. It’s the dream that connects us here and now, now with then. We must not destroy that dream.
This work reflects the fragile necessities that inspire us to face the world less brutally.
Live the dream, stay free.
‘Is that a real poncho…I mean, is that a Mexican poncho. Or is that a Sears poncho?’ Frank Zappa, Camarillo Brillo.
– Amber Wallis