no more singing in the woods
no more singing in the car
no more singing in the streets
no more singing in the bars
no more singing into you eyes
no more singing into your arms
no more singing in the yard
no more singing in the park
[from the six-book poetry collection "mantra.x" (book iii/ ethical suicide artist), circa 1988, by titus toledo]
For a short window of time, we are being offered a front row seat to screen a compelling new film that takes us on a global exploration of hidden ancient technologies that may just provide the keys to address the crisis of the modern world.
Winner of the 2016 Van Gogh Award (Amsterdam Film Festival), the film "The Reality of Truth" brings together individuals, groups and entire cultures that tap into expanded consciousness through meditation, spirituality, plant medicine, and psychedelics. Featuring thought leaders Bruce Lipton, Ram Dass, Marianne Williamson, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, Deepak Chopra, Foster Gamble and many more.
Make time before July 4 and watch the full documentary online for free, here: http://bit.ly/WatchTROT
"Why then does the clockwork seem to be damaged as if it were moving in slow motion? It no longer tells the time, and consequently, sensation is not transformed into perception, perception is not transformed into concepts: Nothing any longer becomes. It is true that we can no longer love or hate, but what of that? Does the hand on the clockface derive its movement from our hate or our love?"
—Benjamin Fondane, "Existential Monday"
”the most unfettered imagination belongs to young people, and they don’t walk through life; they fly” ~Rod Serling
"There is no object to art. Art is the object" –Titus
Titus Toledo is creator of spread (circa 2000), among other precarities, mostly transitory and often darkly arcane. An inveterate new media artisan, he is almost spastic in his output, leaving entrails of so-called works and in-the-works here and there from, say, his sundry excursions into sound art (“death is a door,” circa 2002, an album of aural assemblages), type art (“re:signs,” circa 2003, about an imagined but probable extra-terrestrial alphabet), code art (“sarcophagus.txt,” circa 2001, a duchampian experiment in self-mutating automatic hyperfiction), literary art ("Last Trip," circa 1987, to name his first officially published short story, which hints at murder in a nightbus), and poetics (“mantra.X,” circa 1988, by his own admission, a spiritual suicide note disguised as a six-book poetry collection).
Toledo cut his teeth working the editorial and design rackets for the longest time– to say nothing of his 18-year stint as a third world community journalist– before retiring, in a manner of speaking, to pursue what he describes as “a more deeply personal and physical” scholarship in the humanities.
Of the seeming interdisciplinary character of his labors, he has this to say: “What I cannot write, I draw. What I cannot draw, I drink,” or words to that effect.
Of his nascent attempt at “enterpreneurship,” including and most especially the goods he has currently made commercially available in the interwebs: “It has come to my attention that my work here is not exactly for everybody. If, by chance, you are not exactly everybody, this is for you”
Toledo was born in Angeles City, Philippines, in 1967. He is abundantly married and blessed with innumerable children. As of this writing, he digs space weather, code art, semiotics, guerrilla gardening, and crispy begukan— in that order.
He comes in peace.
i am titus toledo. i create: http://titustoledo.redbubble.com
- the art of titus toledo on redbubble (current)