Timothy Dougherty-INferences

"It's a Wonderful Life" meeting Frank Capra

2011-12-02T19:32:00.000-08:00

I was having a new look at the movie "It's a Wonderful Life"

and remembering...

It was the late 70's , I was finishing my course work on my masters
degree the weather was colder that year and the campus had that feel of
the end of the winder term. Student were dressed in there coats and
warmer gear, then the usual light wear. My mother had just died from a
hart attract, she should not have been working at the hospital, and
knew she had a hart condition. My father was very sick and my mother could
not stay home with him all day and all the time. My ex-wife and I were having
problems at around this time, everything seemed to be going down hill in small
ways little by little as the sand moves under your feet.

Walking on campus, around the falling leaves I noticed a post
about Frank Capra the Director was having a lecture and would be
screening his film "It's a Wonderful Life", I thought this would be fun
for me and my wife, something we could do together.

My ex-wife is Jewish and me not, so Christmas and the holiday sometime would bring out some underlying feeling in each of us.

The Screening room on campus was in a small auditorium, that evening
around 7:30, and there across from me was Frank Capra, he was looking well
and with a smile on his face.

Frank Capra had a important and interesting life, from being a gag
writer to being one of the greatest film director of all times. Capra
was a populist,using the simplicity of his narrative structures,
in which the great social problems facing America were boiled down to
scenarios which were simple metaphorical constructs. Capra used myth and poetic
power of film to create proletarian passion plays. As with todays
culture the conflict between cynicism and the protagonist's faith and
idealism, a melancholy and baseless optimism is a powerful content.

As the lecture continued I was affixed on the person, as he
described his life and films, his introduction to the film we were
going to be shown was a surprise, instead of seeing his classic "It's
a wonderful Life" we were to see the classic "Meet John Doe", I was not
going to be disappointed, some others seemed put out.

Until recently I did not fully understand why Frank Capra wanted to
show "Meet John Doe". The story of "Meet John Doe" is about conflict
and faith, in the film a man needing money agrees to impersonate a
nonexistent person who said he'd be committing suicide as a protest,
and begin a political movement.
As Capra explained, there was a problem with the ending and a
they had to call in a writer to rewrite the ending, filming the ending
in many ways, as he explained they had John go over the building,
than have him and the leading women both go over then just her. "Meet
John Doe" was make in 1941 just before the war. The story is about
the great depression and how people can over come lifes problems by
simple golden rules, over the corruption of governments and the loss of
faith and love, a story about redemption.

When the United States went to war in December 1941, Frank Capra
rejoined the Army and became an propagandist. Capra said he was against
"mass entertainment, mass production, mass
education, mass everything. Especially mass man. I was fighting for, in
a sense, the preservation of the liberty of the individual person
against the mass."

After the screening and talk Frank Capra said that we were know going
to hear the radio version of "It's a Wonderful Life" At this time more
that haft of the audience stood up and moved to the exit, as if the show
was over. Frank Capra stood up,now red in the face and irritated and told
them " you well never learn anything about films or life if you can not
learn to listen " most just keep going some stayed, I was still in my
seat. I sat and listened to the radio version of "It's a wonderful
Life" with Frank Capra giving me a eye and enjoyed it, Capra had
written and directed the radio version also.

I went over and got a hand sake headed home. Not to long after I went through a divorce my father died and I lost everything I had and was homeless, not unlike
John Doe.

Being a Educational media specialist and artist, looking back to what
happen there that night, hearing "It's a Wonderful life" made in 1946, just after
the war. I was seeing a continuation of "Meet John Doe" the story of a man fighting
against corruption and loss of faith and of redemption.

John Doe was to jump off the building Christmas eve and was saved, were as George Bailey jumps and is saved through this his redemption. If you see life or a film
but can not hear what the message is you can sometimes go out into the
night and not really see or understand what life is about, the conflict
between cynicism and the protagonist's faith and idealism, and about redemption

Timothy Dougherty

2011-08-06T20:10:00.000-07:00

New ART work

Silence Barriers

2011-06-01T16:16:00.000-07:00

"Silence Barriers"

by Timothy Dougherty

Magic to go straight to the area, with a sense of size and sullen grimness, being half choked with the flush of morning

Talk to me Rain so glowing and without life the scattered impulses you gather me, passionate act, our traditions

Friends are open with green hills of simple grace and sense of importance, a friend with shoulders and her rose morning

Half choked friends suffocated in their convictions and hardened resolves, friends are the recesses of our memory

The past as the shifted friends on adroit grounds, accosted ideas and ideals, lampooned with cherished prejudices and bowed submissions

My mind is haunted with friends the unearthly burden of life or just a place for chill trepidation, friends drank of naught colorless care

It is often with desperate resolve of spirit, we conversed in fluency and nothing passed, only desperation

The walls have resolve and the universe to a fundamental nothingness, as if some human defect has been detected in some hollow moons rings

So ironic words, flung and flushed out to some intolerably wind, as the silence becomes intolerably given stare of diffidence rebounds

Looking at some day-dreams, how I give my eyes to the demons of false glory and simple wanton success, the same demon who rules too often

Eyes with the gift of deep, dark silences the eagle in his tracks and trade eyes, acted in honor and delicacy, sudden dreams we give

With admiring vision the dark silence comes, as friend loathsome and listened in gazed intent as protestations held and than replies went

In life the regimental vague acceptance becomes only a smile only a smile, a smile

Lumen Leonine

2011-04-20T17:31:00.000-07:00

Lumen Leonine

Footsteps receptivity impertinence

latent skys lashing scorns breath

leaden steps of freedom rest

Leaping ambitions smiles lightly

leisurely shadows lengthening

leonine breath questioning

Lighting glares twilight stares

fixed tenderness liquid light

she moves with the night

2011

2011-01-02T15:50:00.000-08:00

2011

I end as I began peculiar satisfactions, I earnestly speak as themselves of human spirits. The spiritual substances, minds human pleasure

Reality is meant as affecting orderly and distinct and not of fictions of the mind perceiving ,the sense of the sun doubt the whether

We are the distinct the mind perceiving ,affecting not fictions ,real beings of principles , I end as I began... qualities without mind

The accidents that misrepresent are accused in the extennsion, weight the sensible star or the mundane the idea of the imagine by nights end

I start as I began. the common discourse the acknowledge that we take away never existence even in the imagination accused acknowledged

We eat and drink ideas as qualities common clothed in ideas we walk far wrong not to think ,you will often hear but to apply the accidents

I start as I began...to warn you to think the possible the unfair reasoning and to obliged in this to dwell ,therefore to wonder centain

Much between difference, the truth of proposition of truth, words perceive the softness, the colour, taste, warmth, figure the difference

I start as I began. I readily grant it , this the objects or things the sound the harsher difference the palliate to seek the truth clothed

Lets pretend to propose in time the question in a moment ,the evidence is discredit the senses, you believe the plausible that prevails

It is perceived with mistrust, I need to remind you of the course , to deny the existence of anythings is percieved as plausible ,chose than

I start as I began. Ideas the answers burnt ,ideas are pain of the course ,deny the mind unperceiving more that its idea the instance

Considered the dream perceived off in the great distance ,the existence only in the mind ,the external space ,the bodies of existing near

I start as I began -Going blind and afterwards made to see O < I saw the mind at a Distance The i dea

The objects of sense exist only when perceived and created in question or disguise in the moment of annihilation we fail to admire truth

Language govering incumbent upon the moment of all the furniture in the room is reduced to nothing and again created in defence of moments

I start as I began, I choose not to consume the possible , fabric framed the continual creation to all hand on light and colour the moment

the sight and the touch in contrary, I mean the futher absurd impute as prognostices of the images the external things in delusion believed

I start as I began. Perceive and close the truth, existing nowhere without the mind in consideration in the distance a clearing, the visible

The advocate of existence of matter is never certain, yet we acknowledge the percieved urged upon you as angles emphatice stressed inference

I acknowledged that one exist nowhere else ,the mind as objected. Answers or matter really exist ,but as the induction to substance

I end as I start. Objections, and the consequence of life and mind, the manners of purpose, the easily mentioned the never understood

I start as I began. Imaginging the believe of the words we settled the opinion of the unthinking being, the senseless,..the cause, the Act

by Timothy Dougherty

Admiration

2010-08-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

Admiration is a unresentful dispostion of distrust of the spirit its unrelenting emphasis on the forfeit of pretense of the self or sameness

I feel a unparalleled error in my philosophical character a unprofitable craft unobtrusive in the display of lack of platitudes , I center

What is unjust? a universal and uninstructed view or sentiment , unimpassioned activity of the uninterrupted process of a systems laborers

The homeless are a uniformed blending sentiment unimpeachable in the process of unjust depreciation a unimaginable bitterness, unhesitations

I have no flag , unforced and unseen and unfettered in liberty. The unforgivable tragedy is my unfolding consciousness a unflagging truth

This in my silence is the undisturbed the authenticity of scrutiny the unending exactions that we energies in hills of silence, undistracted

What is unconditioned? a uncomfortable doubt or attractive patience of serenity one mor demeanor of unconscious serenity , a task a side

I am unbeaten and beaten with unbiased judgment no consooation no perfection a unassailable position unapproached in this mountain reserved

It is in the shadow of a typical day that a revelation is in saction in this a ultrafashionablle world of some lost bearings, I unadorned
One tragic touch one more lost treasured possession one more treacherous intelligence ot overcome too transcendent transfiguring of the self

The road to some titanic tireless curiosity the faculties of indifference or touching pathos of innocence one mor tortured thought to view
what is a thirsting ear but a eye that has been blinded to a thoughtful silence the images of rage or impulse always threatened the pathway

The terse realism is a thankless document and a conviction only tentative in attention my memory is to see the good over the terrifying

Apathy

2010-08-17T21:55:00.000-07:00

Apathy by Timothy Dougherty

Fame and others dissipate in a exhaustive superficial blending of silence and apathy into the chill of memory

Ideas crumbled to dust so many fragments of words driven into our servitude dragged into death

As fashion decay and fade into insignificance or just frozen into form hushed into silence or into truth

Plunged into dispair change merge into character and charactors pass into oblivion

One thing is common to humanity a claim thurh of destruction doomed to failure and platitudes ground to progress

The Face of Conflict

2010-03-03T20:27:00.000-08:00

The Face of Conflict

Empty words ,empty talk dwarfed limbs of rain and hardened lips the ambitions of marble

A store-house of anecdotes ,emulators of the time and place that catastrophes became beasten to the ground

The unaccountably curled statements,filled with smiles,links dissolved with one sigh than solicitude

Any measurable strenght was scattered on the road to wisdom, where stumbling ignorance sought a gathering

One more coaxing tongue stumbled vaguely into a silent darkened room as profound questions leapt to light

Over the white sheet curiosity is counseled the secret of exitence, as empty words become empty ornamentations

Sheets with decision and stern lines are dismissed in the shadows, as the face of decision is caught abruptly in truth

The face of conflict , gravely authoritative gaze to the prehensible small hands now unconquerable

Outreached Hand

2010-02-11T19:56:00.000-08:00

Outreached Hand ~Timothy Dougherty

Sometimes we, the enchanted ones;with that gleam in our eyes, the ones with the smell of vague thoughts and low voice in tune with ethereal

We the vanishing ones , in the night drifting or just afloat like a leaf on the wet streets , a flush of the wind and rain and we are gone

Some walk by and coins or real folding money fall down, on to some tangled forest swept tangled hair, a "thank-you" and gone to a new home

The storm-tossed ship ,that we call life is just the life broke up, like a great river's ice at touch of the new spring , the air like wine

We seem to be all just like icicles tapering in the cold air,silent sheeted dead, all things beautiful will drift away like drops in waters

Icicles the flight of a million arrows, headed to earth ,the anxiety hung in the dark unconscious ,the unexpected is ideal as any frail body

A thoughts tears glistened as vibrations create the unpleasing strain, first like a tear the siver, glistened than the sunshine into rain

The cold hands come to welcome, comes to heal the blows of sound the stars fill the silence softly like a smile white robed clouds gathers

We play as sand plays at seashore, that drinks in steady the pluging rain at drifted seashores,filling in the silence with out reached hand

Moldy Doctrine

2010-01-22T19:01:00.000-08:00

Rain comes and is gone a momentary discomfiture ,nothing like the pause that the doctrine of conditions people call home .The Moldy Doctrine

People in the absurdity of mind look to the sky and not into the samesness, not the monastic sameness ,but the institutional momentous one

Within the moment of one drop of rain the moral obliquity comes in silence moody gray to wash away the mortal affront the coldness appears

We see rain or hear rain as it yet was some nautical venture a nauseous dose of the natural world or shortcommins our native incompetence

The rains came as a depression a scheme of uncertainty of necessary change, What is necessary is negligible in quantity in the mists of time

The neutral opponent holds little in the nerveless hand , but perplexites of allowance to the literary and artistice abjects in hands cold

So what is logical in the hands of numb and cold of rains passion? Loyal to the rain loving and reverential the devoted call loud RAIN RAIN

One who has climed to clean waters have seen above eternal snowline and have been striped bare as by a stream of locusts

The quit breathless pale ghost cold hands and colder heart only warm with adorations of a mothers child . Finding a vast river unfailing

The source of sleep falls like a shallow stream in mans eyes , the unfailing source is swift as the thoughts of one drop

A blast of tears from the skies , this the easiest ways to learn as the Pharaoh set his star ,this as unapproachable within life

The soul is like wine as the water-lily looks to love and truth ,beneath a sky beheld great Babel, and blood-red clouds will bring a new

By Timothy Dougherty

Willing Wings To Cherish

2010-01-11T21:11:00.000-08:00

Willing Wings To Cherish by Timothy Dougherty

Apocalyptic tales our stories like a beast it bites,so benighnant eyes of flickering candles in gray minds kisses the heart and dies

The job of anyone burnt out like clouds in the silent heaven the chains lengthens behind it drags on the life the substance of child at play

The trees that stag's antlers are the same that fixed the stars they are altered there values to silver and dust to truths so perfect

The souls of men like the walls of great seas live like creatures in walls of pain The upcast wing of the souls of light uplifting stony peak

The souls startled into astonishment deprive themselves forever and forever are assumed to last as our illustration of proof so briefly

We who are assembly have the sentiments for the rest not the foregoing of the wall of time now constituted but memory to compare the moments

There was a wall of digression one of the outcast the outset of time to state our inquiry that moment or notion so solemn assured within us

In the walls we are not deceived our interest are things as they may our moments bearing and attempting to the point of question of being

Opinion like hunger being persuaded by special matters speaking to our minds holding the hands no one can say speaking but inviations bidden

the wall has openings and possibilities deserves the stones for admittings and here arise no further to wings emotions pass over head

The words willing come form the walls from my own experiences . I can at least say, the willing wings to cherish the hope and promise

Avaricious Eyes Of Man

2010-01-11T21:08:00.000-08:00

"Avaricious Eyes Of Man " by Timothy Dougherty c 2010

So abrupt a irrevocable the outright absolute is the soul of rock and stone she test time and mans need to create anew.Her soul quest true

So abundant the epithets set to the tone of men , he absurdly set the words , as apologetic so abysmally academic . We rigor in her world

With the wings of dangerous progress man see her accessible womb as his accessory of circumstance ,as the wings see all from afar

Stone so accommodating to mans burden her soul break the hearts time the winds of war and agents of his accomplishments with ease

The desire of stone and her accursed enemy ,with his aching desire accustomed to his acquired need turn to dust ,to sand and effect

Over all stones the wings see the wings know adverse the indifference and affectionate approval makes not the wings mind affirmative to man

Man with his aimless confusion thinks he create but the wings with brevity understand the making of Gods splendor to allied subjects give

Wings are not allied to the stone but the all-pervading influence of God and man and the stones alluring idleness of life as suggestions

So pedestrian within his stone cities so amazing artifice his ambiguous projects , man learns little and understands less of the God greed

The arch conspirators have imposed the darkness so aptly that no man can see the approving lights,the appropriate roads are build and closed

The stones the rocks the building of man so audacious attested to the augmented force of natures laws the wings tribunal austere critic calls

Wings has ascetic devotion with aspiring genius the ascribed productiveness of man is ascending to darkness enshrined sacrifice atoning

Man is blind and dumb to moment and words only authentic to his wants, he builds without exchange or empathy

The Cry Of The Sea-Bird In The Wind

2010-01-06T19:11:00.000-08:00

The Cry Of The Sea-Bird In The Wind

I was now down at the ocean the other day and had some bread , was eating and feeding the birds , the small one and some large sea birds
The bench I was on was looking to the sea the the bird sat across looking to me ,I would send out a small piece of bread on the ground
than some of the sea birds started to fly over my head and stop, hovering so I throw up a piece of bread and the bird got it and few off
this started a change of events now one sea bird after another few up over my head , they stopped and waited for me and the bread than the next
one after another the change of event started some birds stoped and missed the prize and went this side or that than came the next so on
and so on until the bread was gone, was nice to see the birds wings out and over me I could look up into the bird face and eyes and see
the birds were safe in the air but needed the food , not having to be on the ground we just had a understanding the exchange was each bird had a feeling giving me something respect for what they are and what they need we I was not just throwing them something I was showing understanding what giving was and being given back respect by the birds for respecting them.
Sometimes murmurs floats into the air like fate as a dead leaf reasonably demands returning to a tree or the cry of the sea-bird in the wind

by Timothy Dougherty

Within The Light Of Siddhartha

2009-09-10T13:55:00.000-07:00

Within The Light Of Siddhartha

Silently the erratic flights of thoughts are learned to the breathes of man
like burning skin and motionless erotic poems.

Empty of joy and sorrow empty of wishing empty of a single goal: The essential prerequisite , the esoteric doctrine exposed like rays of a burning sun.

That which is no longer my self , the perfected man , a image of manners not of ethical wisdom, the doctrines of circumstance or everlasting mysteries.

As if the Buddha was the honored friend who waits no longer and this this chosen path of man is for the choosing of yourself, this a salvation.

Our vision of the exacting taskmaster is a exact antithesis, empty and evident or everyday reality , communication the excessive truth.

More silently the honored friend is empty in the exclusive discernment only to be counted as if a excitable exasperation of time.

Siddhartha has no esoteric appearance but a expeditionary force of the comprehensible conduct, exquisite of diffusion and circumstances.

False illusions and fallacious hopes perpetuated sometimes in a faded magnificence . Life familiar sacredness and allusiveness ,fathomless and faultless.

As the Buddha is pedantry to fattening servitude we live in fearful imprecation a bewilderment of invocations.

Life as the festive of illuminations or a tyranny of pretext of the choosing we empty our impatience .

A desire of fine sensibilities a finished artistry , at times brutal in the flames of faith, floating in blackness Buddha is our conscience flickering to our will.

Well Executed and Designed

2009-09-02T18:09:00.001-07:00

Well Executed and Designed

A man is dispossessed or characterized as deprived of and delineated to having nothing of value, a extreme and worthless human as measured.
How arduous and perplexing a wordy discord of tested state so revealed to a discursive life , a subversive life or a divest state of mind.
This well executed and designed to the extreme is detrimental and detestable of the attention a human will be revealed to the state.
How subversive a disagreement can be this a loose ,but acuteness of the impossible. I live in unsympathetic perplexity of the facts.

With homage to high and lofty aspirations of freedom and justice , we are all have a susceptibility to a submissive culture or philosophy.With homage to high and lofty aspirations of freedom and justice, we all have a susceptibility to a submissive culture or philosophy.
As a humble and profuse but not a simple idle man of honors, a irresistible contemptible indignation of works that become words so indirect.

If originality is a force of nature than the habits of a incoherent and matchless originality is the only one I have. The issues are clear.
Who is willing to be clear and accurate, without being irritable to some or many? Any foresight become a willing feeling of knowing labors.
Education and imagination and the profundity of learning can be a procrastination of time and reluctant,deep veneration of a faith in a truth
Like stories and pictures that can only be a implacable representation of a resource ,not well-balance or dependable as reality was or solid
A superficial and shallow world inventive to the sublime or just consoling to the violence that shows the unreasonable this is dependable.

The assumption of time and conjecture to ponder and weigh, like some theatrical toils ,so obstinate that it provokes a inquisitive view .
The world is a hostile place for a blinded Artist and the homeless kind of diffident no tender world for the penniless poor of circumstance

The homeless is in torment of resentment , all others become the antagonistic kind of instigate the hatred to malice the insane of kind word
ll thing have a perplexities of enlightenment that bring a human reach of the infinitely subtle,a thing of coherent tints and bitter silents

What gray liquid horizons so intolerably tragic to the human anchorage that the strange winds of time are refreshing to the toiling mind
I was wondering in the careless joy of this festival of a judging animosities, only living in the dare eyes of spaces, so poignant as vistas

No language is excessive as the soft music of absurdity of this strangest of aberrations , that of words in general this absurdity stream lets.
Our memory plucked like some divine honor to a preternatural doom always mared to the minuteness of the eye and mind of idleness of moods
Hands become as wood and crypts of adversity to only be recoiled in the moments of utter idleness as some marching order to posterity
A new dream a new boarding out of patience , like a flash of tenderness in the eyes of a golden transfigured twilight , desolation pervades

For the blind it is submerged longing, a grief not gracious to the gact a disppointing sorrow ,bitterness and depression overshadow all
The peopled of the night a perpetual gloom and seclusion of distinction, pelted with thoughts peering the golden clouds ,only to bring rain

Only the metamorphosis of the soul bring from the depths of nothingness the pressing skyward wings of hostility have strings of enterprises
What rehabilitated and restored dignity and pride will ever be adherence to the treadmill of sacrificed time to oblivion, respect in futile air
Like some bird among the sacrificed ,scotched on a greedity outward beam of sadness, a paralysis and than a mask

If I was wrapped in a veil of a quivering smile and hurried eagerness , my blue-flint eyes would find the hands to see the perfect remorse.
A stony bare hand of strange surprise,wave in the vast gulfs of time and space so solemn and the activity in this deepening movements sing
The beauty a solitary hand beckoning with power and bound to languor in a kind of hell , to type no more ,no more to sing or to see the hand.

by Timothy Dougherty

One Blind Vision one Faithful Augment

2009-08-28T13:12:00.000-07:00

One Blind Vision one Faithful Augment

One blind vision one faithful augment to extend the unlimited and infinite one little chagrin and character of irritation I move on and on.
Out in the world of exact but non-genuine and hostile antagonistic, humble I am I , with caution and watchfulness and anxiety often frustrated.
Misapprehension is a rebellious but not a sinister genius not fraudulent in a incomprehensible way only watchful for the righteous minds.
Only hypocritical or cold coherence to a unity becomes impalpable if not philosophical or bewildering to the profitable and obnoxious.
Than the questions of degrading and offensive that becomes injustice and tyranny is extortion and wearisome on Art and expressionless to the end.
Theatrical cries and picturesque dramatics are thrilling but can be criticized and embarrassed to be transformed and touched become Art.
It is the painful and tenderness of devotion that brings pride and monotony to people, that is untraceable in compassion and temperament.
When will the suspicious have a feeling or mobility in the mind for compassion and service ,that is a real scholarship of circumstance.
Oppressed apprehension of this incisive quiet to head the lights of night or this whimsical fearful day only incisive care only care.
Only my severe intentions have a purposed oddity of Art or puzzled affected in this the dissipated cranks or graces that rage to rank.
Protracted on for this day or that only proof pronounced to a life of more proneness and protesting the purpose or intention will dissipate.
A primary proneness of being or the illustrations of one life as desire or prostration to the proportions of that inconsistency of loss.

One life is one suggestive preference a tangible present authority, often futile and inept in all its indignation and pride but essential.

To be polite seem pointless in this submissive state of prevailing and suggestive prejudiced authority, a presence of powers and presumption.
What is my projects and plans in a plastic world as pilgrim or crusader plagued in this plainness of plausibility , the world is poetical.
Like a famine of no specific kind of perplexity I move out no just pessimistice but in fact to the destitute nature of my life persecuted.

To purify the confusion and the perception of the planned life and of a prejudicial and disenchanted man , only reiterated by pestilence.
As if some pampered and cumbersome life with pains and painstaking indifferent prejudice is the passion of patience as recognition of time.
Original is not the occult order or uniformity of Art, in any magnitude of discovery ornate or attractive in the mind,reassuring to be Art.
Who are the oppressed and where is the hypotheses that will bring the truth so inviting and open that it becomes order and rational.

The obstacles can only be made be a imbecile , with no reflections on the disasters that are not opinions but perplexing in its discordant.
he disaster of man one more reflection to the obtuse not palpable but obvious and contingent on us the hidden of habits or occupations.
To be obedient and in submission of the obligations of dependence can only be a hypocrisy so obsure and odious one more objectionable act.

In a beginning was the oaths or numbers and variety of important novelty of the mind, now a ineffectual nucleus that nourish the ignoramus.
What nook or corner can one be noted or noteworthy even intelligible in this absurdity of the noisy and blinking works of man? Prominence ?

What a development or a mockery of contradictions one of neglect form a noble and powerful lord of the bargains, neutral and airy homeless.
Discipline and differences one moderation of discretion and disdain, shapeless and disfigured in a land so far off and a world so lost.

Self-absorbed , Self-conscious and Self-exacting

2009-08-27T15:38:00.000-07:00

Self-absorbed , Self-conscious and Self-exacting

Self-absorbed , self-conscious and self-exacting a contriving world and a tedium of sounds and contemptuous words and ways, I move on and on.
With a robustness and firmness a flourish of privileges and sarcasm the word and works roar and rush to the barren land of decay.
With patients the words as work fly off and some indifferent and remote place for restitution no guarantees of correct views or admiration.
A puzzles are the questionings of instruction the reproof are associations and our religion, polities and the literature of hope and love.
Words are images of the poor often resolute to the disagreeable and the proud they become the brace that strengthens the meaning of life.
For what dignity, poise and reserve can be found in this the poor among us and what laborious plodding to become visible and tangible real.
Art is more than a daring pose the dazzling gesture and a powerful expression it is the poor, miserable and helpless massive and precious.
How obscure and personal the kind of gentle passion to a better life is only the practise of a parable for civilization, a order and peace.
One character of defiance and opposition is legitimately of a individual as the integral and legitimately the aim of toil for a good truth.
What is destruction ? but a building of new intentions and purposes a motive of material a moral formal and precise way to change neglect.
Words swayed and ruled this land words murder and jargon becomes a social agony of incompetence and neglect moved mountains to vineyards.
We the humane and meek are unaffected in the truth the scope of durations temperate and serious moans ,curses are set free as mercy ruled
To feel in myths or fables the impossible angels of ambitions are persistently standing with the filures of experiences unread unloved.
As if a dusty and faded experiences are the ambitions of a proud race of men , disloyal in love or faith and hope , what motives the poor?
We must compare to decide the have and have-not the equable convincing to excessive and nonliterary malice to find the identity of state.
Only with head down and graceful and ignorance can the identity of existence be convincing or logical this to be the examine to compare.
One should look with suspicion and hatred the purpose of any blundering and desire to be proud of the self, with earnestness or intelligence
The unembarrassed could bring to bare the fact of a natural and easy affection and desire to be free of this disdainful egotistic purpose.

I could say that I am bankrupt , shaken and distressed a doctrine of destiny a philosophic rebellion and temperament or hopeless and broke.
Things about me cumbersome and depressing coarse difficult a assimilation a revolt of the discontent and most unpleasing of a life ,what despair and hopelessness are me the impoverished and horrible a devastating and painful person explained in detailed kindly and gentle.

I have been overpowered defeated, and my decisions of the inaccessible and selent, doubt and difficulty the fantastic and the curious are me.
Looking with in the lake of venomous crimes and misfortunes I have little emphatic powers for the mountains of corruptions so copious.
A self-seeking voice has courage, patience and honesty the world warped and barren has corroding and malignant in overabundance manners.
Conscience of the heart makes one clear-headed and accurate to the thoughful, sympathetic of temperament and habits of life.
My circumstances has not hardened me in a coarseness but only a more coherent and interdependent relentless way , a virtue not to repel.

How logical and dispassionate one can calculate in earnest the genial and straightforwardness of prejudiced and the slighted and censured.
In the end it is a isolated and fragmentary brief and confused state of toiling form one place to a breathless self-assertion ,just spare me.

Self-consciousness is not a reverence to the leadership or authority to any adoration but only a impostor and thief of my birth and fortune.
In matter little of how time shifts and my treacherous, if not most strange and ambiguous life has turned to a uneasy place undirected .
Alarmed about being practical some kind of indignation of power subtle and ancient.I am alarmed and anxious over my state of inconveniences .

by Timothy Dougherty

A Universal and Uninstructed World

2009-08-25T15:29:00.000-07:00

A Universal and Uninstructed World

Admiration is a unrepresented disposition of distrust of the spirit its unrelenting emphasis on the forfeit of pretense of the self or sameness

I feel a unparalleled error in my philosophical character a unprofitable craft unobtrusive in the display of lack of platitudes , I center

What is unjust? a universal and uninstructed view or sentiment , impassioned activity of the uninterrupted process of a systems laborers

The homeless are a uniformed blending sentiment unimpeachable in the process of unjust depreciation a unimaginable bitterness, unhesitations

I have no flag , unforced and unseen and unfettered in liberty. The unforgivable tragedy is my unfolding consciousness a unflagging truth

This in my silence is the undisturbed the authenticity of scrutiny the unending exactions that we energies in hills of silence, undistributed

What is unconditioned? a uncomfortable doubt or attractive patience of serenity one more demeanor of unconscious serenity , a task a side

I am unbeaten and beaten with unbiased judgment no consolation no perfection a unassailable position unapproachable in this mountain reserved

It is in the shadow of a typical day that a revelation is in sanction in this a ultra fashionable world of some lost bearings, I unadorned
One tragic touch one more lost treasured possession one more treacherous intelligence ot overcome too transcendent transfiguring of the self

The road to some titanic tireless curiosity the faculties of indifference or touching pathos of innocence one mor tortured thought to view
what is a thirsting ear but a eye that has been blinded to a thoughtful silence the images of rage or impulse always threatened the pathway

The terse realism is a thankless document and a conviction only tentative in attention my memory is to see the good over the terrifying

It will be dark here soon

2009-08-06T21:40:00.000-07:00

It will be dark here soon

It will be dark here soon we will put aside no controversy of truth this I know what I mean and and still further perhaps to recollect

Not sure not sure not sure it is a circuitous argument but it is all and affirms the truth ,fearlessly afirms the truth

Time and Time or is it Space and more Space they seem of likewise importance as we become prominent in the eyes of the sky

silence is deep as brooding as death a gentle spirit or like a phantom who sits like a maniac silent elusive of memory caged in troubled air

I could play as with one-hundred possibilities of a musicians waves of deep hair in this dingy morality on candle of mirth incarnate flame

Rivers silver ,green and god roared as torrents rolling under the tongue and lips like herbs and flowers the dusty grass of sweet things

The naked heaven give a fluttering leaf or a snow flake hovering with a proud pride it is pure as a curtain and as quiet as all answers wild

Indefiniteness of smiles broken in this a faint glimmering flitting with a head down broken as a sculptured nun

Veils have strained the harp-strings one bright drop of sounds a dam of rivers broken and drifting the gatekeeper's crown to the side

Night falls like the shadowy form a tempest of memory and emotions stripped of hues , I stand under the wrath the cloud heavens slander's

My mind not swayed to the lampless or the sovereign moons that now rules the cold sea .Out of this ark comes thoughts growling steadfast

One meteor hits the pavements as the clear and pale serpent trods over the tongues of friends and foes alike like screaming birds hard

My eyes are as the thoughts of a green river that is a vase for proof of the master's face in this the weather cast the lightning as swords

good light and great rivers is a effighy but tattered in this my sky, visit at night by angels are short and far between morning returns

some strange rainbow has faded this my day, no tropical sun reaches out far this shadow like a sea upheaved by our stars set in motion

We dance in sunlight picturesque lost in the mountains doors ajar an itinerant vendor hope blinded by the storms faint cry his woe is dim

You all are encircled by the hunter and his hounds ,cold as the breath in the grave.We are the creaking doors in the complete unassisted

This a churchyard fashioned in the wind such splendor the straws are gold in the sunlight and the leaves are but shadows of a unseen power

struggling in the grasp of serpents in the grave of wasted hands they have gathered up the pouring oils of a threading dream now separated

Than I am pouring the roses on troubled waters in a deserts bloom only to die in the twilight garden, the scents strong as any current souls

limbs are not my mind as beaten to the ground without unaccountably curled cruelly scattered to pity expectancy with ambitions in marble

To be disillusioned speaking plainly is an idealist impossible detail, a higher compliment to hear out the prospect of great allowances

The honestly of the indignant , a little discouraged service to entirely glad to feel deeply about anything a opinion of mood in a way

I admire the extraordinary or the droll , should the like be to hear the nature of interest and time to utterly see the connfession of time

circumstances of consult of certainly it is displeases of objections and of definite minds eye reflected consequences of ludicrously wrong

What is trust ? but a sense of humor or very ungenerous dismal words of waiting , you can imagine anything is horrible or is pleasure

But let me confide the one-sided point of view the practical side of a too hardened moments circumstances of presumed misunderstanding sense

to accept the idea with the best wishes of a ravens wings on the sweet rain in summer,consider the moment a tremendous hazard of night side

The heart of the heat are but golden tints of a sunrise the sweet rain of tongues are on hard stones one gloomy undertakers night of shivers

The silhouette of my life

2009-07-20T18:14:00.000-07:00

What light will I have for you?

We in the soft light of morning

I serving you a morning meal on the back garden of life

You in the sun me the shade, earning your trust

Food is trust

I bring to you dead sun only the shadow anticipates my lost

Time is all things a dream, a now and a loss

The sun in my garden she is now a dream

The garden of time

I bring to you my shadow the winter

In me is the earning of all things

In you is the now of loss

You bring me a plate of shadows that I eat

I grow to be the snow

The spring brings back this phantom

The dark you bring me

To earn the dusk in all things

I have grown

The CYBER-ENVIRONMENT FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE

2009-06-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

The CYBER-ENVIRONMENT FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE holds the rights motive needs to be perceived as freedom the physical,intellectual,and moral.
Motivation is causality that passes through a knowing mind.The motive needs only to be perceived as freedom,physical,intellectual,and moral. Intellectual freedom results when the mind has clear knowledge of the abstract or concrete motives to Action. The CYBER-ENVIRONMENT FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE holds the right of a person no human being should initiate force or fraud against a person. Deontological libertarianism in the New Media Artist context of The CYBER-ENVIRONMENT FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE:rights of person or property.

OUR Protected Values ETHICS OF NEW MEDIA ARE A COLLABORATIVE IMPERATIVE ACTION PLAN FOR THE CYBER-ENVIRONMENT FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE,
AS WE SEE IN IRAN AND THE WORLD'S ECONOMIC NEED FOR A COLLABORATIVE IS A IMPERATIVE ACTION BASE CONCEPT FOR NEW MEDIA AND ART MEDIUMS.
A hypothetical imperative compels action in a given circumstance the fictional collaborative is a moral Imperative call to ACTION. FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE AS A Imperative THE categorical imperative can be a central philosophical concept in the moral philosophy.
I HAVE COINED THE TERM THE CYBER-ENVIRONMENT FICTIONAL COLLABORATIVE
LOOKING ON NEW VOLCABULARY TAGGINGS : FOR NEW COLLABORATIVE ACTION IN OUR CYBER-ENVIRONMENT NEW MODEL WITHOUT THE BEHAVIORIST BRAIN CONTROLS.
THE FICTIONAL ENVIRONMENT IN THE NEW MEDIA CONCERNS CHANGE GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT OF INFORMATIONAL ACTION OR INTER-ACTION.
CULTURE AND AND COMMUNICATION IN THE NEW MEDIA IS NOT A SUB-EDITOR'S JOB TO MAKE clear, correct, concise,comprehensible, and consistent WORK.
INFORMATION AND COMMUNICATION WITHIN FINCTIONAL EVIRONMENT IN THE CULTURE OF MEDIA MOVING IN A NEW FRAMEWORK OF ACTION AS WE SEE IN IRAN.
WHAT WE ARE TALKING ABOUT IS A COLLABORATIVE ACTION OR PRETENSE TO ACTION IN A EVIRONMENT IN THE CYBER OR (subculture) THE SUB-CULTURE.

PRETENSE IN THE CYBER-ENVIRONMENTAL COLLABORATIVE IS THE PARTICIPLE PRAETENDERE IN THE COLLABORATIVE FICTIONAL WORLD AND GIVE MORE SUPPORT TO THE WORDS / MEANING OF CYBER-ENVIRONMENTAL COLLABORATIVE PRETENSE THE WORKS IN THE FICTIONAL ENVIRONMENT IN MEDIA.

2009-04-16T11:28:00.000-07:00

EVER and ANON

At
present writing from this standpoint like robes are laid aside we
bending together as though whispering secrets as some elemental force

If
I could kindle with enthusiasm a glowing with delight this night
oppressed with hardship would find care, the sick with dread doubtless

It
seems protracted and fruitless resolve into nothingness to act with
deliberation stricken into silence this a yield to reason a true echo

For
me no indorsed and applauded I am informed and competent not to be
insincere and worthless than what jurisdiction and authority is there

Again
I start my day ignoble and shabby illustrative and typical with images
and impressions turning to imbitter and exasperate a absurdity

It
is graveyards and solitudes one finds greatness and stability not grief
and remorse.Look to guidance and inspiration a hearth and shrine

What
expressions and exclamations,I expressive and effective have faults and
delusions only to be fogs set in formlessness and exaggeration

Dwarfed
and obscured should I become dust and oblivion or just dwindle and
disappear? What ease and lightness both elementary and simple

With
both emotion and passion this problem enticing and alluring to me.It's
entire and complete my epithet and description:EVER and ANON

Timothy Dougherty

2009-04-03T15:00:00.000-07:00

MP3

Player tell me

young boy in Africa

hand cut off

Side walk a work of Art

a crack here there thither

a tree resembles mahogany

or not

The player

with ear buds

my ears

than thy cut off his arms

why would thy stencil angel

more Art

Cracks gray uplifted slabs

more stencils a gun white

and then they cut off his feet

the player reminds

a girl

Black hair around nineteen

maybe twenty alone

a cough exhale

coughing

No stencils the sidewalk

is Art

Gray or grayish? grayness

cracks are never the same

sameness

The player

my ears

and then they through him

in to the toilet

program ends

Gray cracks trash

move to grass

the player

nice to have a radio

new program

Timothy Dougherty

John Caradine, on the Queen Mary

2009-03-13T14:17:00.000-07:00

John Caradine, the Actor was on the Queen Mary with me.

After leaving the graduate school of Education and going through a change in my life, I graduated from the same University as Steven Spielberg. I was not thinking about working in the film industry, but I did go to a lecture by Frank Capra and was impressed. Working with a Cable co., to produce a symposium on Media Art, I read that John Caradine, the Actor was on the Queen Mary, doing dinner theater. Thinking that, it would be interesting to interview Mr. Carradine, I did a little research and found he was very interested in Shakespearian plays, and later told me that he was the only Actor to have played Hamlet more times than any other living actor, based on the fact this was during World War Two, and there was a shortage of male actors. He toured with his own Shakespearean Company in the 1940s, playing "Hamlet" and "Macbeth".

I digress; I found an obscure passage, from a Shakespearian play, "Macbeth."

I called the Queen Mary, for contact information, I left the passage at the desk, and they said to call back. The next day I called back, to see about talking to John Carrdine's Agent, but the person on the phone told to hold on.

On the phone it was John Carradine, he was staying at the hotel on the Queen Mary, and said he would be happy to meet with me. He was doing the stage play or a dinner version of "The Fantastic". I went down to the Queen Mary, the next day, went to the hotel 's clerk and told him why I was there, and he made his phone call to the stateroom and out came. John Carradine.

In my mind, I was thinking about, John Carradine the movie star a man of many roles and parts. The star of the 30's an 40's and plus a "B" star , but with some style.

Dressed all in black, with a cape, at that time he must have been in his mid seventies, his hands were very arthritic, bend and deformed. We went over to the main QM hotel's lobbies were there is a very large heavy glass picture window and sit down. I told him about, working with the cable co. and I said that I was not a Actor, but a media specialist, we talked about my studies in right and left brain interaction to drawing and Art, I told him about my undergraduate degree in that area. He originally planned a career as a painter and sculptor. I realized I was talking to someone with someone who suffered from painful and crippling arthritic hands about drawing and painting, and tried to change the subject. I talked about the passage from "Macbeth" and the visual aspects of it and he said it is never talked about.

After a few minutes we were both more relaxed, and started to talk out about our life's, and what was going on now, he pull out a package of Players cigarettes and had a smoke. He started to look much more younger, good clear skin and very intelligent, not how a perceived him, Carradine's deep, resonant voice earned him the nickname "The Voice". We talked for some time, stopping only for water, a hour went by and he asked me what was the book that I had with me for reading, at that time I was reading "Raise the Titanic" he said: If it is a book so it could be on film. I agreed with that, as a media specialist and we both saw the Ironic facts of talking about the Titanic and sitting on a large similar ship. After some time, we know it was time to depart, and he offered me to come to the dinner show, that night, he walked me to the port exit and I took his hand and said, thank-you. A few days later I went back over to the cable co. and thy said why didn't I bring him back to the studio, I said: that it just was not that type of interview. Strangely I read in the paper, that the diner show was, closed and John Carradine was gone, A few years later David Carradine stared in the move version of "Raise the Titanic", it lost a lot of money for Paramount studios, but was a important film. To think the movie the "Titanic" is one of the highest grossing movies ever made? Paramount studios were John Carradine's was one of the longest contract players ever. Oddly John Carradine, played a character on a TV movie, where a ship was overturned, like the Queen Mary and sank to the bottom of the ocean, people survived in the water tight compartment and lived for years. There Carradine played an actor like himself, walking about the upside down ship at the bottom of the Ocean quoting Shakespeare. After that experience I try never to tell any one about my ideas for a film.

2009-03-11T01:15:00.000-07:00

I was having a new look at the movie "It's a Wonderful Life"

and remembering...

It was the late 70's , I was finishing my course work on my masters
degree the weather was colder that year and the campus had that feel of
the end of the winder term. Student were dressed in the coats and
warmer gear , then the usual light wear. My mother had just died from a
hart attract, she should not have been working at the hospital, and
knew she had a hart condition, but my father was very sick and could
not stay home with him all day. My ex-wife and I were having
problems at this time, everything seem to be going down hill in small
ways little by little as the sand move under your feet.

Walking on campus, around the the falling leaves I noticed a post
about Frank Capra the Director was having a lecture and would be
screening his film "It's a Wonderful Life", I thought this would be fun
for me and my wife, something we could to together.

My ex-wife is Jewish and me not, so Christmas and the holiday sometime would bring out some underlying feeling in each of use.

The Screening room on campus was in a small auditorium, that evening
around 7:30, and there across from me was Frank Capra , Looking well
and with a smile on his face.

Frank Capra had a important and interesting life, form being a gag
writer to being one of the greatest film director of all times, Capra
was a populist, and the simplicity of his narrative structures,
in which the great social problems facing America were boiled down to
scenarios which were simple metaphorical constructs.myth and poetic
power of the movie to create proletarian passion plays. As with todays
culture the conflict between cynicism and the protagonist's faith and
idealism, a melancholy and baseless optimism.

As the lecture continued I was affixed on the person , as he
described the his life and films , his introduction to the film we were
going to be shown was a surprise , instead of seeing his classic "It's
a wonderful Life" we were to see the classic "Meet John Doe", I was not
going to be disappointed , some others seemed put out.

Until recently I did not fully understand why Frank Capra wanted to
show "Meet John Doe" , The story of "Meet John Doe" is about conflict
and faith, in the film a man needing money agrees to impersonate a
nonexistent person who said
he'd be committing suicide as a protest, and a political movement
begins. As Capra explained, there was a problem with the ending and a
they had to call in a writer to rewrite the ending , filming the ending
in many ways , as he explained they had John go over the building ,
than have him and the leading women both go over then just her. "Meet
John Doe" was make in 1941 just before the war . The story is about
the great depression and how people can over come life problem by
simple golden rules, over the corruption of governments and the loss of
faith and love a story about redemption .

When the United States went to war in December 1941, Frank Capra
rejoined the Army and became an propagandist.Capra said he was against
"mass entertainment, mass production, mass
education, mass everything. Especially mass man. I was fighting for, in
a sense, the preservation of the liberty of the individual person
against the mass."

After the screening and talk Frank Capra said that we were know going
to hear the radio version of "It's a Wonderful Life" At the time more
that haft of the audience stood up and move to the exit, as if the show
was over. Frank Capra stood up ,red in the face and irritated and told
them " you well never learn anything about films or life if you can not
learn to listen " most just keep going some stayed , I was still in my
seat. I sat and listened to the radio version of "It's a wonderful
Life" with Frank Capra giving me a eye and enjoyed it , Capra had
written the directed the radio version also.

I went over and got a hand sake headed home. Not to long after I went through a divorce my father died and I lost everything I had and was homeless.

Being a Educational media specialist and artist , looking back what
was happen there was "It's a Wonderful life" make in 1946 , just after
the war. The continuation of "Meet John Doe" the story of a man fight
against corruption and loss of faith and redemption.

John Doe was to jump off the building Christmas eve and was saved , were as George Bailey
jumps and is saved through this redemption . If you see life or a film
but can not hear what the message is you can sometimes go out into the
night and not really see or understand what life is about, the conflict
between cynicism and the protagonist's faith and idealism.

Timothy Dougherty

Art and Proust :A Loss of Time

2009-03-05T00:16:00.000-08:00

Art and Proust :A Loss of Time

I was doing some reading on Marcel Proust the French writer of In Search of Lost Time. and the promoter of the concept of Involuntary memory.

I feel a interest, because of the use of Art and mind as a visual creative formatting and processor of memory device. As Proust would have it ,within In Search of Lost Time , A large part of the novel has to do with the nature of art. A theory of art in which we all are capable of producing art, by taking the experiences of life and transforming them in a way that shows more human understanding .Involuntary memory is a conception of human Memory in which we encounter in everyday life that would evoke recollections of the past without conscious effort. As opposite is voluntary memory, a deliberate effort to recall the past. As when we try to recall something ,this is only a part of truth and not a true "essence" of the past.

Being transported back to an earlier time by sensory experiences of memory, triggered by smells, sights, sounds, or touch. Understanding media is what the sensory experience is about and Artist uses the medium to create a trigger. Imagined or form a mental image of something that is not present . The artist only can be a maker of imaginary or dubious facts.

We remember what we want to be real, Art as the habit of memory as in learning a poem by heart, and spontaneous memory that stores up perceptions and impressions and than reveals them . So what is it touchy and feely and see it than it must be there. Reality is the sum total of our imaginary worlds. Nobody is a fixed state of being, life is all memory and imaginary view of what we feel. If this is true Art is the expression of the self: A memory of unconscious effort into remembering events, people, and places. that can and always will be a memory.

I was Shaw’s left shoe

2009-03-04T23:52:00.000-08:00

I was Shaw’s left shoe

All great truths start as curse

The curse of walking on the side of the street were rain would not fall

Ask the old gang to tell the story of the lost ideas and ideals that smoke moves up and not down

No book of the truth will ever see the end as no word will ever see the light of darkness

The sound of stillness is always new and never old but always true

Saint Joan brings back my love and brings back my naked brain this beautiful earth

Bring back my bird the nest of old women of youth I can live on bread and clean water

The right shoe only walks on the streets of poets

When the shoes are old and forgotten in the closet of my mind the story brings a cast anew

Lost powers to the end of time to accept how long?