Saturday, March 30, 2013

Free Four

Free Four
©2013 Marcus James Christian
marcusunlimited

Free, like the air that chases seas,
and races over golden sands,
before climbing up ocean cliffs,
and slithering through wild grasses.

This is our new state of freedom.
We are an improvised motif,
engineered through perfect science,
functioning in complete freedom.

Free Gift Three

Friday, March 29, 2013

Free Gift Three

Free Gift Three
©2013 Marcus James Christian
marcusunlimited


There are these things which bring us joy,
and such things are all around us.
We are an unsinkable ship,
in a vast sea of abundance.

Time lines things up for us nicely.
Good feelings arrive frequently.
The things we ask for, we receive.
This is what its like to be free.

Free Gift Two

Free, Second Gift

Free, the Second Gift.
©2013 Marcus James Christian
marcusunlimited
 
Now we look upon new flowers,
flowers within our new gardens.
Now we stand upon marble floors,
floors which have stood the tests of time.

Ah, the joy of finding castles,
which have proven their resilience,
and held hidden treasures for us,
this is what its like to be free.

Free Gift One

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Free Gift One.

Free Gift One. 
©2013 Marcus James Christian.
marcusunlimited.

All limitations fell away,
as we left the old galaxies.
To dwell on those hard times
would be to the demise of now.

The new vehicles were better.
"Us" and "we" felt better than "I."
Wealth is better than poverty.
This is what its like to be free.




Facebook I

Facebook I, a poem.
©2013 Marcus James Christian,
 marcusunlimited

Poems are posted on Facebook,
 in the form of status updates.
Families connect there, 'round the world.
Many new friends have been made there.

Sometimes, people post pictures there.
Cats and Dogs are popular there.
Politics are discussed there too,
the web sites color scheme is blue,

Facebook.



the Unlimited Singers' Enharmonic Exposition 530.12 ft. Howard Pyle, Kin...


Wednesday, March 27, 2013

♫ POEM: I Love You for Who You Are.

"I Love You for Who You Are"
©2013 Marcus James Christian,
marcusunlimited.

I love you for who you are.
Thus, for you I build with my words.
A perfectly picturesque hill,
topped with undulating green grass,
a shelter built of hand stacked stones,
upon floors of worthy marble
... near the sea.


Haiku Poem: A Crisp, Clear Full Moon.

♫ Haiku Poem:

 A crisp, clear full moon
misty clouds shattered by light,
in the cool stillness.

"Our Entourage Rode on a Train," a poem for a Video Opera. Version II

"Our Entourage Rode on a Train," a poem for a Video Opera. Version II.
(WT) From: Quotes, Lyrics and Songs from a Secret Society of Unlimited Singers.
©2013 Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited.

(♫: abdc#@♫♫)

(♫: B/D# | Em | G | Bm | )

Our entourage rode on a train.
Strong tracks took us through private lands.
It was one of our old estates.
Birch trees, deer and green grass lived there.

Some of us had been there before.
For others it was a first time.
We kept some of our treasures there.
There, impossible was made real:

(♫: Em8 | D8 | B8 / )

 The dogs on the estate loved cats.
 The cats on the estate loved dogs.
 Birds sang from eucalyptus trees,
 which fed a friendly Koala.

(♫: B/D# | Em | G | Bm | )

Our walls were covered with fine art.
Originals by Picasso,
the Hudson River school and more,
hung proudly up upon our walls.

Music was heard everywhere.
Bel canto voices filled the air.
Breeze shook leaves made soft rhythmic sounds.
American Goldfinches sang.

African Rooibos filled our mugs.
Green tea was brought in from China.
From Genesis one twenty-nine,
we formulated how to dine.

(♫: Em8 | D8 | B8 / )

 The dogs on the estate loved cats.
 The cats on the estate loved dogs.
 Birds sang from eucalyptus trees,
 which fed a friendly Koala.


____________________________



 

Monday, March 25, 2013

Quotes and Lyrics: "Our entourage rode on a train ..." a Poem

Quotes and Lyrics from Members of the Unlimited Society:
©2013 Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited.

"Our Entourage Rode on a Train," a poem.

Our entourage rode on a train.
Strong tracks took us through private lands.
It was one of our old estates.
Birch trees, deer and green grass lived there.

Some of us had been there before.
For others it was a first time.
We kept some of our treasures there.
There, impossible was made real:

  The dogs on the estate loved cats.
  The cats on the estate loved dogs.
  Birds sang from eucalyptus trees,
  which fed a friendly Koala.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

♫ Abstract Art Composition: 3.2013sum4+5, Grazing Cattle, Trium Bos Primigenius

Abstract Art Composition: 3.2013sum4+5, Grazing Cattle, Trium Bos Primigenius
©2013 Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited.

... and the music video version:

Doing a remake? Do not be true to the original story or characters, here's why? A lesson I learned from Picasso.

Doing a remake? Do not be true to the original story or characters, here's why? A lesson I learned from Picasso.

As an opera composer, who has focused on pioneering "Video Opera," which I've meme'd as "VideOpera," I am always considering various collaborations, and or keyword, marketing realities. One concept is the idea that on occasion taking original ideas I have, and realizing that some form of public domain work or character may serve as a marketing advantage, causes me to dash the new original idea with a bit of the public domain.

Proudly, this results in a new work that is ideally untrue (in most cases) to the original source material, and in some cases may even oppose it. I once thought this was a problem, then there was this visit to an amazing art museum which just happened to have Picasso, and a host of other masters on loan the day of my visit. The exhibit contained works by Van Gogh, Manet, Monet, and the league of French Impressionist masters. Meanwhile, the rest of the museum's exhibits were all full of stellar, spectacular works of art in every room. It was the Palace of the Legion of Honor, after all, San Francisco.

So we were in this circling train of people. It was odd to come before a Van Gogh and feel the need to keep moving, at least slowly because there was so much other "fine art," to see. I mean there were some of the greatest works of art in human history and there was very little stopping. Slow moving, yes, but actually dead stops of admiring stares, largely no. However, there was one work, out of place with the other works which brought the most refined intellectuals to a dead stop that held them in a state of pondering for minutes on end, to the point where mature, pillars of the community had to be politely addressed by security to continue moving slowly, yet even then, there were pauses of rebellion from all, including myself.

"Why is this happening?" I thought to myself. The answer did not come to me entirely immediately but eventually I realized what I can demonstrate in this metaphorical examination of the phenomena.

Imagine you have asked me for piece of blank, white paper. I turn around towards my paper supply and hand you ... a blank piece of white paper. Done. It is over, all thought interaction is complete upon the moment that you receive exactly what you expect. The event, beyond the polite gesture, is forgotten and any significance of the piece of blank white paper is completely a failure.

Now, imagine you have asked me for a piece of blank, white paper. I turn around, towards my paper supply and hand you ... a sand colored, Sumerian writing tablet made of sandstone. It is half covered in Sumerian markings and laying at its center is a tiny hammer and chisel.

What has just happened. Obviously you have stopped your train of desire based thought. You have come to a pause of speculation, and then (marketers and creatives take note) audience interaction has occurred as the receiver becomes the grantor of the following question, "What is this? What am I supposed to do with this? Is this a joke? My God, this is Sumerian, I love this, is this real? My God, this is not what I was expecting, I hate this? Can this be real? Where is the expected? Now I'm looking at this and thinking about it and three months later I still recall the event. Especially when I see sand, or a story on ancient cultures, or reach out to grab even a plain piece of white paper from my printer paper's cache!"




Sunday, March 3, 2013

Symbols, Characters. a Poem from "Robot Suits"

"Symbols, Characters." a Poem.
from "Robot Suits"

1. Symbols, characters,
lines in every direction,
time ever changing.

2. I speak my feelings,
as I update my status,
holding back a bit.

3. It is all okay.
Everything is alright.
a tree on my screen.

4. I see through my mask,
and see the peaceful trees sway,
through my Robot Suit.

5. I can take it off,
and become some kind of human,
a breathing machine.

6. I can fall in love.
I can descend through the clouds,
and ascend again. 

©2013 Marcus James Christian
marcusunlimited