I think it’s great for two people to be together. That is a good number. I think, that to keep it alive though, you can’t spend every day together. It wears out the magic, Love means nothing to me if it’s not fortified with fierce, painful longing, brief explosive instances of furious passion and intimacy and then a sad parting for a time. In that way, you can give your life to it and still have a life of your own. I think some couples spend too much time together. They flatten out the potential for experience by constant closeness. Passion builds over time like steam. Let it rage until it’s exhausted and then leave it alone to let it build up again. Why can’t love be insane and distorted? How can it be vital if it has the same threshold as normal day-to-day experience?
Why can’t you write burning letters and let your nocturnal self smolder with desire for one who is not there? Why not let the days before you see her be excruciating and ferment in your mind so on the day you go to the airport to pick her up, you’re nearly sick with anticipation? And then when desire shows the first sign of contentment, throw it back it its cage and let it slowly build itself back into a state of starved fury. Then when you are together, it all matters. So that when you look into her eyes, you lose your balance, so that when she touches you, it feels like you have never been touched before. When she says your name, you think it was she who named you. When she has gone, you bury your face in the pillow to smell her hair and you lie awake at night remembering your face in her neck, her breathing and the amazing smell of her skin. Your eyes go wet because you want her so bad and miss her so much. Now that is worth the miles and the time. That matches the inferno of life. Otherwise you poison each other with your presence day after day as you drag each other through the inevitable mundane aspects of your lives. That is the slow death that I see slapped on faces everywhere I go. It’s part of the world’s sadness that’s more empty than cold, poorly lit rooms in cities of the American night.
Most poets are elitist dregs more concerned with proving their skill with a dictionary than communicating ideas with impact. If I wanted a mystery, I’d read Sherlock Holmes. I don’t want to hint around, I want to be depressed with a vengeance.
Never be satisfied. Satisfaction is a dead end. It’s nowhere. I am an enemy of satisfaction. I’ll take dissatisfaction any time. Anything that will motivate me to improve. There’s nothing like my own limitations to inspire and infuriate me. I suck - so I have to work harder to achieve half of what others do. I am not good at anything - so I have to do it over and over again until it is beaten into my skull. I understand that pain hurts and I can take a lot of it.
I have no choice but to be an artist. When the art doesn’t come, I make art out of the lack of art. That right there seems to be a good definition of creativity - to make something out of nothing. To express depressed expression. Eh? Eh? In writing, I have to feel like I am speaking to someone, at least a little - and when you feel like the world has turned its back on you - or rather, you have turned your back on the world - you feel like no one is there listening, so thusly, it makes it difficult to write - to communicate. You isolate, or become more of an “internal” person. That’s how I feel about it, anyway. You don’t. or I suppose, in my opinion, shouldn’t be writing if not to communicate - and that is a two-way street. Art can indeed exist as a product of individual expression, with no direct intent to share, but it is usually created as a reaction to something in the world, or internal world - the mind. With that, it becomes a certain statement, whether the creator realizes or intends it to be such. With written or spoken word, it’s always a head-rush to be able to turn a notion or idea on its head a bit. It is always interesting when I whip something clever together, and people think that I have taken or quoted it from somewhere else - assuming from a bigger piece of media, like a song or a movie. This is because, all I see from other young people, or the majority anyway, is this type of ripping and quoting from other major-marketed sources. Worst yet, to us literary types, often they do not even attribute the original source; song lyrics sitting on a page - do they belong to them? What do they mean in this content? The art of the word, or true individual communication is lost, man. I want your unique thoughts to get in my brain. Let me think about you for awhile, and try to figure it out, not read a carbon copy of something else. With that, I’ll return the favor. Give me an intellectual challenge, and I will give you an aural orgasm. Let’s talk. I enjoy just letting a’ rip onstage or in front of the camera, or a microphone and rambling a string of thoughts together into a barb-wire of rusty wit and fragmented opinion. In the case of using a more intricate medium to communicate something, film has always been my love interest; the undying crush I could never seem to properly ask out on a date - the girl next door that I just couldn’t get to third base with. The one that got way. Sure, we might’ve hooked up a couple of times, in the form of my acting in a few things, or taking some classes, watching and analyzing movies in papers, shooting music videos, or drooling on the computer keyboard after having fallen asleep mid-editing session - but created a start-finish dyed-in—the-wool film? Not yet. Nothing I’d be proud to fling up on an art house screen, anyway. The resources of community television, or cable access, have been something of a crutch in recent years, in that, while it remains our greatest alley in getting projects off the ground, and helped us launch our greatest achievements, in the form of said videos, and our film festival, EXPERIMENTALLY ILL, it also has kept us sleeping soundly in the less-than-four-star bed of “Access” - of which has given us our whole world, in terms of friends, coworkers, and a great jumping-off point for more. Despite the sandbox of toys Community Media stations provide, a whole lotta cherry pickin’ must be done in order to find a large sect of people actually willing to create something different. I’ve been fortunate to know a few of those types, and we took those folks and their short films on a local ride through a few Boston-area indie fim theaters with Experimentally ILL - embracing the DIY ethic and a bit of punk-rock aesthetic, to the tune of some sweet press and audience praise. On paper, I am still a staunch advocate of Public Access Television itself, in George C. Stoney and Red Burns’ original “Hey, how’s it going’?” set-up-a-TV-on-a-street-corner concept - but Michael The Arch Angel’s gotta spread his wings and try to fly sometime. It’s important for me to not over-think things too much, and just splatter some art up on the e-canvas here. Fortune favors the bold. Thanks for reading this. Written by MIKE PHELAN O’TOOLE. Boston, MA, USA. http://mikeotoole.nethttp://twitter.com/mikeotoolehttp://experimentallyill.comhttp://mikephelanotoole.com mikeovideo@gmail.com
Life has no smooth road for any of us; and in the embracing atmosphere of a high aim the very roughness stimulates the climber to steadier steps, till the legend, over steep ways to the stars, fulfills itself.
“Quest?” Prose Poem/Wordplay - 6/23/2011 Two leather-clad, spike-wristed desperadoes walk up to the gate, kick it in, dodge a few flashing light effects, and swiftly slay the dragon that is self-doubt. I am still on this search for meaning, bending words, lines, and catch-phrases at will, in order to express beautifully fragmented thoughts - spray painting them up against the sugar-glass moonlight. There is nothing like the head-rush of hitting the stage and throwing caution to the wind - words flowing out like a freshly slashed jugular vein. This is my morse code - dots, hyphens, and dashes on the page. Or is it dashes to the stage? Another day, another hourglass figure to touch - sands flowing out of it, as she grinds into my broken in soul. I tagged this up for you. I wander, and wonder… Are you out there, and do you have a voice like mine? Intellectual stagnation leads to the quest for adventure. I rip off layers of literature, and sling it across the planet. What else am I gonna do? I’m a kid playing with clay…
I am pleased to write a letter of recommendation in support of Mike O’Toole’s application to the Massachusetts College of Art. Since March of 2000, when I first met Mike, he has impressed me with his knowledge, creativity, wit, and flexibility. It has been a pleasure to work with and learn from him.
As both the government and later the education channel coordinator at NewTV, Newton’s community television station, I had the opportunity to work with Mike on several occasions. Early on, he volunteered as a production assistant on the City’s summer concert series – a multi-camera shoot with a large crew. As part of the team, Mike helped with the setup and breakdown of all the equipment and served as one of the principle camera operators. During the shoots, he would suggest camera shots and angles, which might have been overlooked, but which ultimately improved the overall production. As the technical director, I was grateful to have his perspective and initiative. His instincts were right on.
Mike also volunteered on numerous studio productions, including programs for the library, the public schools, the mayor’s office, and Newton’s legislators. He helped in the control room with everything from graphics to audio to teleprompter, always giving input and feedback. It was great having Mike as a crew member, because he was willing to do whatever was needed. His flexibility and sense of humor often came in handy with last-minute changes or mishaps. His ideas for enhancing the program, such as a set design adjustment, made a huge difference.
When Mike asked me about doing an internship in 2004, I agreed without hesitation. One of his first projects was to edit an art exhibition using Final Cut Pro. His choice of shots, transitions, and music brought the various still images to life. The artist was moved by Mike’s fresh and innovative approach, and so were the viewers. Recognizing his editing skills, I asked him to teach and assist other student interns on Final Cut Pro.
During the summer of 2004, Mike volunteered to join other high school and college students in creating and producing All Over The Map, a half-hour magazine show. During pre-production, he brainstormed and collaborated with the other students, sharing many ideas, which were later incorporated into the final program. In addition, Mike participated in several studio shoots, teaching some of the new students how to operate the equipment in the studio and the control room. During post-production, he was one of the principle editors. He also secured the music used in the opening from a local artist. In 2005, the program received the NewTV Red Carpet Award of Excellence for best education channel production overall. That summer, All Over The Map received the First Place Hometown Award for innovative programming from the National Alliance for Community Media. Mike’s contributions, once again, had proven to be invaluable.
As a result of his hard work and dedication, NewTV has hired Mike to teach Final Cut Pro and help members and interns edit their projects. Given his many talents, I think he will do very well at Massachusetts College of Art and later in the communications field. I recommend Mike with the greatest possible enthusiasm. Thank you for your consideration.
