EXHIBITION THINKING 2

THINKING FURTHER

Than just than the water became a mirror as the wind called behind.
It revealed silence in noise, in uproar, sound echo  echo, silence in noise
sound source of silence, underwater while above, on the surface feathers
still there, like screams of geese and line clouds of wasted journeys
silence my mind

paint reality

to see what you and me can’t see
don’t want to see
a laced wing, laced netting, filigree cord sting
intertwine, interweave, mix it all, give it silence
klingerly klang of a horse shoe on concrete

glace wing

see beyond time
THAN
a feather comes with thousand drops
to do what hasn’t been done
camera under water under surface reality
dare to see surplace reality shattered movement

under or above thats the question

a boat past, waves come all moves
wobble bobble zobble
into reappearing silence, moved to be stuck
a drop reflection into a subtle action
reaction of a fraction into
inner moment, inner movement
shadows reflection, than just than

moved to be stuck

the boat pushes her under where i lay surprised
faces what to see, no longer care
all them 1.000.000.000 drops
just one little feather
feels so good, so beautiful, attractions
in that one tiny moment of passing

that feather

by elegant, glamour on a surface movement
shift in charm, to relocate me and
seeing beyond, seeing inside reflection, under drops
we only see outer reality
stir, switch, leave, transfer

drop reflections

seeing in three dimension
i have to go now, i need a piss
my inner calling
how to make 2D into 3D with an inner feeling
kijk nou

een veertje dat me heeft leren zien, leren kijken, een ander perspectief.

it will never be sure when or how we see not knowing how to show

mAgdA september 2017 alblasserdam

 

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EXHIBITION THINKING

THINKING while wondering

How to show silence of a feather, while a constant roar shout behind me.
Perhaps light, just what my camera and me see. Perhaps only what the camera sees, working with a tool of light.
Silence is no more, contradiction became a constant.

silence of a feather

What is the aim of the expo? Water? Nature? Drops? A spark off hope for nature?
A whistle in a wing on flight. A drop in the ocean.

 

just a perfect drop

A drop disappearing on the moment of that turn, your turn, your flight. A desperation to hold on what disappears before your eyes.
A pain without words, as nothing can describe it.
Picture vanishing drop, which goes where so many went before.

what you see is not what i see

Vanishing beyond time, as we limit our seeing to now,   later is now, past appearance, all dimensions in 1 moment.
Eyes need to form an fifth dimension, not 3, not past, now, later, add under, above, inner, behind, interaction, interconnection.

see

It hurts to see destruction, so you can stand above, so you can controle, so you can monitor.
I have no idea how to show, what positiveness you let – , we let destroy as we learn every day not to see. We see no inner feeling.

sunrise in a flash

Confrontation will not matter, anything. They will see me as something to ignore, justifying judgement with fire-eyes.
What if i show what is different, yet this has been done over and over, again and again.
I will not show what you can do, been there done that.

It didn’t work.


spelen met licht

Perhaps, therefor, i want to show what you can’t see, as we can’t see the inner pain, the inner connection.
Perhaps i want to show the inner, intimate, hidden, repressed, internal, secret, personal moment.

beauty within

 

I am busy preparing for an exhibition in February 2018, this thinking is the beginning of a process. The aim will be to do something more with photos than just showing framed images.
To see beyond time, beyond dimensions.
You can follow the progress here from time to time.

dabe-art

I HAVE A MORTGAGE TO PAY, I CAN’T BE AN ARTIST

I HAVE A MORTGAGE TO PAY, I CAN’T BE AN ARTIST
So here we are, feet passing by, feet standing stil, feet in shoes, shoes over feet, touching concreet, not seeing, not feeling.

 

feetstand

stand still

 

Stripes of past measurements!
There is no need to wait, there is no need to expect, moving feet, talking,  without saying, the popularity of a shoe.

 

feet

FEET

 

feetafgetrapt

passing

 

Talk to me, so glad, so filled with nothing, shadow on the wall, giggle in the air, we say yes, we nod no, catch the moment,  that moment, which always pass. i don’t need you, your talk, your walk, your subdirection, heard it all before, the kind ways of going nowhere, leaving nothing, chasing shadows.

 

feetb&w

shadows

 

Don’t mind unprocessed photoscape, staying, speaking, no meaning inside please buy mine. i don’t care, please pass by,   i can see you, no phone in my hand just a wooden pencil to feel wood to write a moment over feet standing, wandering under no seeing glassed eyes, its nothing to mind.
Lets sit down, its good, no, but its good, whistling back home game.

 

feetzit

effe zitten ja

 

let me hide hide away from it all, let me, let me HIDE as it becomes much much. Human appetite for being best better best, hunting sadness a sad expression of, what, want to be. The final decision of that one person wearing the shoes, the steel smile of me and me, let me hide please walk, by, the sadness, not here, not there, hide away.

feetshout

Realisation Fluctuation of art, enjoy what is not there, avoidance becomes a well known factor inside compilation, surrounded corner. So good to see a true smile, a wandering speciality, once again once again.

 

feetlongline

pas die schoen

 

Shut the door with lights in eyes no not again a situation to escape hiding in a glass hollow vision, with blue glow in hair from ten thousand movements. There most be a way out of here, beard attraction, tears in eyes differentiation problems, walking, seeing, get some sure visuality!

feetescape

taking part in an art fair 

TENDER TENDER

TENDER TENDER

While wandering around the Sculptur-Projecte 2017 in Muenster, Germany i stubble on the most amazing concrete poetry, called Tender Tender by Michael Dean.

tenderreallovelocks

love locks

It might be inspired by the many love-locks you find around in the city, but no explanation was given, which makes it even better.  Looking at it from one site or the other site, you see what you want to see, it plays with seeing and reading.

tender viewing holes

see through

What do you see while you are reading a poem, or a story, or just one line.
The poem is juxtaposed around all over and in the sculpture. At times shredded and than it is crumbled and even painted or hidden behind a wall on the top floor.

tender verscheurde woorden

hidden words

You can see it from above like organised chaos, but perhaps thats what love is, organised chaos.
Only to shred that idea when you see a printed danger tape with frecksake fucksake. Yet while on your knees you see love.

tender concrete

you can see that no need to say more

butte why than, yes why than, all the fists hmmmmm ok that one goes with the crossed fingers so why.
well one thing shows through it all the meaning of concrete, right there, everywhere, but don’t follow me just see it yourself and go on your knees to see every detail and than go up into the air to see it from that different angle.

tender fingers

maybe tomorrow yes perhaps tomorrow

 

OOOOOh and when you spy through that screen don’t be surprised to see love you should not see.

tenderevenkijken

can you see it

however i just and i mean just LOVE it it made my day and even month finally creative writing a very creative love song butte it is not a love song

tendergedicht

poetry printed and printed again and again everywhere

lots of love

tenderscheur

and more

tenderwoordgroen

more

ZOEK LOOK

ZOEK LOOK

captured light

captured light

believe in Beauty, flashing senses
it takes courage to see sensuality
zoek a look
sensuous sentence, offers a pattern
simplifying simulation every stone in a Bubble
zoek a look

standing still

stil 

drop without an ocean, no flow of quadrant
a distant tree, whispering names on your way
zoek a look
across silent breaks
its in your hands, under your feet flowing in your ears
zoek a look

what goes around comes around

what goes around comes around

there over there
whiteout a whisper following maze
zoek a look
around description
saying nothingness
zoek a look

it hurts

it hurts

Dottle over a road, of mystery meaningless tread
tired march of stems
zoek a look
wisps makes you go
used to empty rooms, no matter what you do
zoek a look

saampjes

saampjes

locked away rocks
freak window seal leaking dreams
zoek a look
drop by drop, lash-hold of the scream bird
leave window by horsehairs
zoek a look
purple shoes as wings

wings in your eyes

wings in your eyes

A certain dream while walking along in different shoes around different times into different landscapes. Holding my camera in my hand.

dance911_001

dabe-art.org

STORY WHEEL

STORY WHEEL

The concept of a garden as a piece of art will be discussed for many years to come. The Japanese see gardens as art, no discussions there any more.

zen-scapeair1

Zen-Scape inspired by Japanese gravel gardens

We from Dabe-Art were talking about it; you can’t answer this question without talking about the criteria for art. Creativity would be a number one, unusual would be an other, using material in a different way and last but not least a thinking behind it (intellectual). For many people art ends by making something beautiful (aesthetic) for us at Dabe-Art it is more than creating something pretty.
When Derek Jarman made his garden in the last years of his life his aim was not beauty, he used different materials, not just plants, he had an idea  which developed while making the garden. The garden he created became art and people use it as an example for a garden as art.

visioncol

Vision 2004

Like any art a garden start with a base, the soil is for the gardener what an empty canvas is for a painter, or a block of clay for a sculptor. Before we create our art we work on the base,  the empty area. On the moment i work on the soil and like other artists while working on the empty the filling happens in the head.
A criteria for art we forgot is passion, if you don’t have the passion you will loose it already while making the empty base. The passion will filter through and makes it all worth doing.
You can understand why the Japanese gardeners made the weeding into something special, something creative, while weeding they create certain patterns otherwise their gravel would be hidden under a shower of greenery. The gravel gardens they made have inspired many gardeners for centuries, including myself.

wheel-walledgarden

wheel at the walled garden 1997

While reading Earthly Joy written by Philippa Gregory, about a famous English gardener and wanderer John Tradescant, it came to my mind to write a life story as a garden.
An autobiography written through landscapes into a garden landscape.
The soil from the garden gets shaped in an old design “The Wheel” a large circle divided in 8 triangels leading to an inner circle, like a wagon wheel. You will find the design in many old cultures around the globe. Each triangel of the Story Wheel will tell a story of a place where i lived during my life, reflecting how that place shaped experiences.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

the Story Wheel where old and new will meet

The stories start at, yep the East, as there the day start as well as the night, sunrise, moonrise. Each triangle will hold a tree connecting the triangle to the place it describes. When all the flesh melts from the bones them trees will grow on and on changing the face of the land, hiding the written stories.

While weeding away, to have my blank canvas, my mind wanders to all them places and the piece, triangle by triangle starts to live and get filled.

So a new piece of Land Art began, which will grow on for many years to come just like many of my other Land Art.

You can follow here how it slowly but certainly take shape and how the creative story evolves.

 

TAIL OF HORSE

TAIL OF A HORSE

go where one can go

go where one can go

looking for stillness amongst sounds
of constant going
squeal over iron, rubber tackling asphalt

the surprise from a crossing horse
across flowing mist shelter
chestnut trees

ssstttt

ssstttt

cannot believe my luck
hoef niet bang te zijn on the streaming desperate
motion
purple stains old punk passing tail trail fail
no more

lets tale away in mystical devotion
over river stows silence remains
by the lone wooded strain, do not come my way

eye aye

eye aye

the morning sun wake endless shakes, it will not follow you
beams into shrinking themes go under ageing agent tree
it seems free to go
silently

cannot see, really feel very strange
the sun is here where the Hawthorn left, the Elder follows
pigeon flies over horse trail Chestnut

monet

monet moment

very soon they all come out
despairing my lost moment
tires overshadow birdsong, running way, running away
i do not want to stay, minding bones
its all so strange, do not feed the animals, do not flee the peace, do not flea the peas

horse SUN

horse SUN

mAgdA

17 June 2015

Hemel Hempstead