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Ayden 2022-09-15 14:18:45

Uncle Dong is a real artist, there are some excerpts from the text in the documentary

1 Fear of lost memories

--What do you fear most

--Losing my memory. Memory is what we are. I think your very soul and your very reason … to be alive is tied up in memory. It is the precious, original memories that define our lives and those memories that we spend forever chasing after those easier childhood memory. Those moments, when gears of the heart really change, and that could be being discovering some work of art. It could be some massive traumatic experience that happens. It could be some tiny moments, a fragment of moment. And in some way, that's really what the process of songwriting is for me, It is the retelling of these stories and the mythologising of these stories. To lose the faculty of memory is a massive trauma within that world obviously

2 The desire to be someone else

I think on some level we all want to be somebody else. And we all look for that transformative thing that can happen in our lives. And I think most of people find it in some way or another and that's a place that they can forget who they are and become somebody else. It is really that moment that you can be somebody you want to be

3 Our story

Who knows their own story. Certainly, it makes no sense when we are living in the midst of it. It is all just clamour and confusion. It only becomes a story when we tell it and retell it. Our small precious recollections that we speak again and again to ourselves or to others. First, creating the narrative of our lives, and then keeping the story from dissolving into darkness

4 About bad weather in the UK

You know, I can control the weather with my moods, I just can't control my moods is all

5 Uncle Dong's song has soul

The song is heroic, because the song confronts death. The song is immortal and bravely stares down our own extinction. The song emerges from the spirit world with a true message. One day, I will tell you how to slay the dragon

6 About ideals

All of our days are numbered. We can not afford to be idle. To act on a bad idea is better than to not act at all because the worth of the idea never becomes apparent until you do it. Sometimes this idea can be the smallest thing in the world; a little flame that you hunch over and cup with your hand and pray will not be extinguished by all the storm that howls about it. If you can hold on to that flame, great things can be constructed around it; things that are massive and powerful and world changing. All held up by the tiniest of ideas.

7 Uncle Dong's outlook on life and art

In the end, I am not interested in that which I fully understand. The words I have written over the years are just a veneer. There are truths that lie beneath the surface of the words. Truths that rise up without warning like the humps of a sea monster and then disappear.

What performance and song is to me is finding a way to tempt the monster to the surface, to create a space where the creature can breakthrough what is real and what is known to us. This shimmering space, where imagination and reality intersect, this is where all love and tears and joy exist

This is the place. This is where we live

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Extended Reading

20,000 Days on Earth quotes

  • Nick Cave: All of our days are numbered. We can not afford to be idle. To act on a bad idea is better than to not act at all because the worth of the idea never becomes apparent until you do it. Sometimes this idea can be the smallest thing in the world; a little flame that you hunch over and cup with your hand and pray will not be extinguished by all the storm that howls about it. If you can hold on to that flame, great things can be constructed around it; things that are massive and powerful and world changing. All held up by the tiniest of ideas.

  • Nick Cave: The first time I saw Susie was at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London and when she came walking in, all the things I had obsessed over for all the years - pictures of movies stars, Jenny Agutter in the billabong, Anita Ekberg in the fountain, Ali MacGraw in her black tights, images from the TV when I was a kid, Barbara Eden and Elizabeth Montgomery and Abigail, Miss World competitions, Marilyn Monroe and Jennifer Jones and Bo Derek and Angie Dickinson as Police Woman, Maria Falconetti and Suzi Quatro, Bolshoi ballerinas and Russian gymnasts, Wonder Woman and Barbarella and supermodels and Page 3 girls, all the endless, impossible fantasies, the young girls at the Wangaratta pool lying on the hot concrete, Courbet's Origin Of The World, Bataille's bowl of milk, Jean Simmons' nose ring, all the stuff I had heard and seen and read. Advertising and TV commercials, billboards and fashion spreads and Playmate of the Month, Caroline Jones dying in Elvis's arms, Jackie O in mourning, Tinker Bell trapped in the drawer, all the continuing, never-ending drip feed of erotic data came together at that moment in one great big crash bang and I was lost to her and that was that.