Mad Martins
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Searching for the Waters of Oblivion
Lyrics
A tiny speck clings,
Like a minute mote of dust
Clinging to the air on which it floats.
And I am that figure, Insignificant and alone;
I am as nothing,
Against nature’s huge army.
I cling and climb,
I climb and cling.
I climb and cling,
I cling and climb.
Cling onto my canvas,
Climb into my scene,
Cling onto my visions,
Climb into my dreams;
I’m searching for the Waters of Oblivion;
Searching for the Waters of Oblivion.
Storm clouds blazing,
Above mountains ranging,
Peak after peak,
In a landscape bleak.
All is lonely,
All is vast;
I act out the role
For which I’ve been cast.
I cling and climb,
I climb and cling.
I climb and cling,
I cling and climb.
Climb into my canvas,
Cling onto my scene,
Climb into my visions,
Cling onto my dreams;
I’m searching for the Waters of Oblivion;
Searching for the Waters of Oblivion.
(Lyrics & Music: Gary Miller)
© 2017 Whippet Records
Copyright Control MCPS/PRS
Recording Credits
Gary Miller - Vocals, Acoustic Guitars
Iain Petrie - Keyboards, Atmospheric Sound Effects
 1.jpg)
Sadak In Search Of The Waters Of Oblivion [oil painting], John Martin, 1812.
St. Louis Art Museum.
St. Louis Art Museum.
Additional Text
A large oil painting entitled ‘Sadak In Search Of The Waters Of Oblivion’ became John’s first exhibited subject picture, and was the first work to bring him into notice, at the age of twenty-three, when it was hung in the ante-room of the Royal Academy in 1812…
“Having now lost my employment at Collins’, it became indeed necessary to work hard, and, as I was then ambitious for fame, I determined on painting a large picture, ‘Sadak’, which was executed in a month. You may easily guess my feelings when I overheard the men who were placing it in the frame disputing as to which was the top of the picture!” (John Martin)
It takes as its subject a story from ‘Tales of the Genii’ by James Ridley, and is typically ‘Martinesque’ in its grand and epic design…
“’Alas, poor humanity!’ is here the allegory. A man, a midget amid the terrifying altitudes of barren stone, lifts himself painfully over a ledge of rock. Above him are vertiginous heights; below him deadly precipices. Nothing helps him but himself. Light streams upon the struggling egoist as he toils to the summit of consciousness. Among the designs of nineteenth-century artists we can recall none so touching, so powerful, so moving as this picture.”
(James G. Huneker, ‘Promenades of an Impressionist’, New York, 1910)