Verscholen

En zo vloei ikke effe verder over het veranderlijke van gevoelens in stilte.

sedition

tear

sedition

silence tears fall down her face leaving a trailed salted crystals
no sounds no sob no shaking shoulders her face deadly still

teardrops trincle down while darkness surrounds her
feathers from dead ducks support her head, getting slowly wet

woollen weight from perhaps walking sheeps suppress her into bed
eyes wide open leaving flowing tears out like rising tide

 midnight blue skylight sprinkle her face through plastic windows
legs stretch out door open into well known surrounding

rise

pyjam trousers soaks up tearing morning dew
streaming river cobble at edge kissing bare feet

released to feel, see, hear tender beauty entering morning seal
words try to push out sinking emotion deem well known answers

first feathery touch leaves sheltered leafs turn above head
shouts wake up all the rest with revolt reddening light

sun appears above hill line enlightening all water drops onto blood coral beads

tomorrow she must leave what holds her so dear

the why creates sedition where can silent tears find that courage

 

any government during any time in any place does the same
declaring this kind of living illegal
giving the people hell
so others can spend their money
so i will walk against the government any government who
destroys what is so dear to me
showing my photos while walking

 

Beesje

Under cover

them tiny corners under feet
reflecting hidden songs, if you look hard
you will find her on the site of your written book

 

site corner

 

She hides for the stars of eyes your eyes mine eyes our eyes
she hide and cries between lost leafs
leaving her sky behind
her wandering over the unknown

 

red companion

 

she burst into cover not to run
a red companion with black dots under white stem Birch
trees
how can i hide like her

 

hide

 

the call of that lost moment
everybody wants to go to that forest as a reflection on running pencils
under music of leafs they all sit in total silence
while going somewhere

 

flight

 

she flies away
over pocket secrets
which beak will capture her red motion
tickle them black dots above moving feet with hundred toes
got to show how
thats why sun shines
if you don’t know why you shine
under them leafs you got to go

===========

A little visitor while writing in my notebook made the day extra special, she wasn’t the only visitor.
Life is wonderful in a forest.
Went to discover a new place to take some photos of leafs for the exhibition and to write poetry for the exhibition.
it was a very inspirational day.

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

PRICE OF ART

I woke up with you in mind hearing your shouts, seeing your act art you said art

as i wait for the first bird song you wait for the first embarrassment

you have a name, you have a fame, you teach to earn

scream to act art you say

the thousand fine lines a question the embarrassment

Looking further into some facts

the aim for the shame

searching for what is lost

inside a scream of silence a scream of taal

en nog eens taal

Vergeefse woorden zoeken naar menselijke mening, menselijke redenering

ik herinner, terwijl de vogel mij niet ziet

een vermenging van woordeloze Beelden

Verbeelding van menselijk gezag

het gezegde van een FLITZZZZ

onderweg van het weg zijn van de

WALKING IN THE RAIN

roaring trucks, zooming first cars

into the silence faling raindrops, rolling of leaFs

circles

somebody else has been here, footprint from behind

shout for what is lost, what will be lost

only without the anger, leaving that embarrassment

a shout of silenced grieving, act silent walking, over a noisy track

should i act this sadden dance to get attention for loosing

perhaps it is the falling of failing

FINGERS

dat ik bewandel na de nacht

een druppel hier            een druppel daar

een gloeiende plaat, in ieder hoek

taal zeg je een vergeten woord van het niet willen weten

stilletjes nat worden voor het zien van dat kunstzinnige moment

kunst waar vind je dat, aan een hangende tak zonder bladeren

het niet weten voelt veilig aan

nee, laat maar     ik wil het voelen

achter de pijn van verliezen ligt de glorie van schoonheid

DIE komt zonder prijs

dansend over een bank, terwijl de bankrekening loopt leeg

genietend van een teer moment, regen valt niet leeg

SEED

treecreeper crawls away vertical movement

now

the rain truly falls

100 1000000

one hundred million

for a piece of skull

money of dead reminder of bulbs 1640

art for few collecting emptiness, no tax on art

10,000 times 10,000

art against reason a silent reminder of what i don’t want

is het een kunst om iets te maken waarvan iedereen zegt wat knap

of

CAMPER IN THE RAIN

is het een kunst om iets te maken wat jezelf niet echt snapt

een vergeten liedje van herman van veen met blijvende gedachte goed

walking back through the rain leaving art well behind

i sell what i create

artinisme off

dripping drops make no difference

i see your anger of lost words

leaf your act of desperation

its all a vague nothing on lendless paper

REGEN WEG

ik ga verder met mijn zin

zinloos dwalen tussen woorden van niets

lege druppels in jouw haar

warme bries in mijn gedachte

verder heeft het geen

ZIN

 

DABE ART