January 6, 2017 §
When you go through life alone you are skinless and defenceless, and all and sundry can land blows on you. When you have someone you care for, their love protects you against everything; only they themselves can hurt you then. I have noticed, however, that whenever you split up, or seem about to split up, your enemies re-emerge from the woodwork and full upon you with savage glee, the savage envy of the dunces, like the Russians on Napoleon’s army on the way back from Moscow. The enemies, subdued and cowed by your love for your partner, are just waiting their chance to fall upon you again; like a virus lying dormant in your body, just waiting for the moment when fighting some other virus has left you momentarily weakened and vulnerable. I feel I have an intimate understanding of enemies; I have moved bemused and surprised through their futile attempts to throw themselves at me and destroy me over the years. They did not know who they had taken on. They bit off a bit more than they could chew. They threw themselves at me like Foreman at Ali. Like moths against a lighthouse. And could not understand why their blows just kept bouncing off. They grew increasingly enraged, and increasingly frustrated, and increasingly frenzied, and just smashed themselves to insensibility more and more. Meanwhile, I played them as one must always play one’s enemies: like a piano. I flaunted myself in their faces more and more. I provoked and provoked and provoked. They could not understand the secret source of my Nile; what kept me going. Their jealousy fuelled me. Their electricity brought me to life like Frankenstein’s monster in a most terrible thunder and lightning storm. Nietzsche I think termed it the great separation; only after the great war has been unleashed upon you can then occur the great separation which at last gives you the space you need to achieve great things. But then you fall in love, and one slightly cold response from your beloved can destroy you in a second. It is this your long-forgotten enemies are lying in wait for; this moment to come out of the woodwork, to crawl out of the pond, and fall upon you again, when you are low. I once sat on a park bench in a state of absolutely abject misery while in Australia, Brisbane I believe. I watched a wasp attacking an ant. As the minutes passed by more and more ants came streaming to attack the wasp, until the wasp was completely overwhelmed, subsumed, murdered by these ants, who then proceeded to drag the wasp away with them. I have never forgotten that.
January 5, 2017 §
When people are trying to hurt you there is no need to try to take revenge on them. I am a great believer that the universe will exact its revenge on them. The universe has the scales, and will always seek to redress the balance when a great wrong has been done to you. Van Gogh did not need to get revenge on those who were so vicious to him; Oscar Wilde did not need to get revenge on those who were so vicious to him; it is Van Gogh who is the most famous and loved painter in the world now; it is Oscar Wilde whose plays fill the West End, and has his statue opposite the Charing Cross Hotel, and his window (stained inevitably) in Westminster Abbey. No one knows the names or cares to remember those small stunted people who tried to destroy Van Gogh and Wilde; the universe saw to it that they won in the end. All those years when people were so vicious to me, threw themselves at me like wolves, smashed their brains out like moths against a blazing lighthouse, punched themselves to exhaustion like George Foreman against Ali so that I could then just start to pick them off, I never needed to take revenge. I knew I would win, and they would lose. The universe always watches and knows where there is right and where there is wrong, and soon adjusts the scales. That is why I worship Justice Palaces so much, and get more emotional in front of the great Justice Palaces, such as the Palais de Justice in Brussels or the Justiz Palast in Munich, than I do in any Cathedral, though Cathedrals move me, too. As do Bourses (or Central Banks), such as the Bourse in Brussels, or the Bank of England. A pound in my pocket will buy me one naked dance from a stripper; £20 will buy me a ten minute tryst with a Soho model; €60 will buy me half an hour with a Berlin floozy in Mon Cheri’s black James Pryde bedrooms. So Bourses represent to me the power to buy Eros. To open up the gates of lustful pleasures. It always amuses me that I can pick up the No.76 bus in London outside the Waldorf Hotel in Aldwych and it will then take me past the front doors of the Royal Courts of Justice, St Paul’s Cathedral AND the Bank of England.
January 2, 2017 §
Not only did the Esmeraldas of Vienna throw themselves at me like moths bashing their brains out against a lighthouse, me completely unmoved by their erotic blandishments, but on the other side of the coin I threw myself at Vienna like a moth bashing my brains out against the lighthouse. I navigate by the light of the moon, and my moons are Berlin, Munich and Brussels (no longer Vienna, I think). Anyway whether Vienna was a failed visit or not, travelling has brought me back to life again. My mind is working again, my great rivers are flowing again and threatening to flood their banks! My pulsing, surging torrents, my Niles, my Rhines, my Mississippis are irrigating my long dried up lands! Dry valleys and riverbeds are flowing with water once more! Everything is starting to be dark green and lush again, like Madeira! Storm-tossed, storm-lashed, dark green Madeira! Where I think me and -—- had our best moments! When I am exiled like Napoleon I want to be exiled and imprisoned on Madeira.
January 1, 2017 §
People have laughed and whooped in triumph, and sort to expose me, and shame me. Faces twisted with vicious glee, they march on my castle with their flaming torches like in Frankenstein. I let them bash their brains out like moths against a lighthouse. I play them like a piano. The Turks are at the gates of Vienna, mother. But I have repelled them. I take their abandoned cannons and forge it into the great bell which I put at the top of my cathedral.
December 10, 2016 §
There was a time when people tried to use my sordid private life against me, and bring it out into the open in order to destroy me. The fact that I exult in my sordidness, and in response flaunted it in their faces more and more, provoked, provoked, provoked, eventually confounded them. Whenever anyone tries to make you ashamed of doing something, do it more. This is my mantra in life. I let them bash their brains out against me, like moths against a lighthouse. When people attack you, you can play them like a piano. It is the ultimate compliment and you should be thrilled by it! They only attack you because they are jealous of you, and want exactly what you have got. The beautiful girl at school gets attacked because the attackers want her beauty. The intelligent boy at school gets attacked because the attackers want his intelligence. This is the way of the world, and when you learn it, you can ride the stormy seas with no fear. The hard thing is it can take many years until you do learn this.
November 8, 2016 §
One by one, strangely, they all fall away; I think when they realised they had no effect, and the more they attacked the more I flaunted myself in their faces, the more I provoked them by my continued exhibition of my wantonness, the more they realised I was playing them like a piano, the more they realised they were impotent moths smashing their brains out against a blazing lighthouse, the more I bloomed and blossomed, and flourished.
August 25, 2016 §
“The title Lepanto refers to an important historical event. In 1571 events culminated in a devastating sea battle in the Gulf of Patras, during the course of which the united fleets of Venice, Spain, and the Pope (the Holy League) ferreted the Turkish fleet out of its winter quarters and destroyed it on a single day in October. Even though more than 8,000 of its soldiers alone died that day, with this victory the Christian alliance seemed to have achieved the decisive turning point in Europes struggle against the expansion of the Ottoman Empire.”The European defeat of the Ottomans and turning back of the tide is so redolent to me as it reminds me of the time I finally managed to throw off the waves of my oppressors and be free at last from the threat of destruction. They threw everything at me for years, and tried their best to destroy me, but I learned to play them like a piano, let them smash themselves to pieces against me like a moth against a lighthouse, flaunt myself in their faces like Nana on the stage of the Theatre des Varieties inviting the whole of Paris to worship her sovereign nudity. Cy Twombly’s Lepanto in Munich will now join the Pummerin in the top of Vienna’s Stephansdom as important places of pilgrimage.