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

PRICE OF ART DROPS

RAIN DROPS IN THE AIR

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

PRICE OF ART BRIDGE

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

PRICE OF ART FINGERS

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

PRICE OF ART SEED

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

PRICE OF ART CAMPER

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

PRICE OF ART REGEN WEG

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

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

MOTION

MOTION

write it down

write it down

from here we slowly set of too much illusion
and from this we go further to nowhere no weather stopping us no movement
from here as well we go looking at very little motions
and from here we go towards hulling over an otherwise rise in movement
from no motion to slowly an action forwards perhaps  perhaps first a bit back flow towards
progress passing the onwards section on movement touching the flowing source of life
emotional manoeuvre  no hurry just go on swinging on current solution
tendency touch me stirring an inner connection from advance thinking
over to development  feelings  inspiring bustle
effecting the fluctuation she becomes excited an idea in movement
act upon herself reliance perhaps
a trend flows over in time running past all possible illusions
moving going going yet never ask where?
she will go as long the unfixed stays around she feels good
a propel behind her steers her in no correction go her own
no development she sees as her own prospect
she shift fast just goes on her current
her vision on nothing push forwards a momentum
a short slow moment in motion perhaps slow motion
you think to see her yet she disappear to nowhere
lets poke her prod her poke the site and
go on move further she goes and you go and all together
we move creating movement within agitation so to say
moment after moment we created last moment on a mountain
moving over a low hanging branch as we go on and on no stopping
over and over we never stand still until it is pop
late yet it was the moment of my life flow
that life is to show to go on
stand

motion

motion

My first experiment of writing poetry in a different more visual way. The poem was written with the idea in my mind of the never ending running of our society never having time or taking time to stand still. The lines went in circles endless circles and i just kept on writing what ever came to my mind.

YEAR CONTEMPLATIONS

YEAR CONTEMPLATIONS

tunnel

tunnel

It was a floating year with changing water,
brown to black sometimes a bit of blue and see-through
and one moment just teal.

teal

teal

A journey with tree planting inside trees,
around trees, under trees,
floating trees finding their destinations in the soil of choice.

oaks

oaks

An expedition of rock collecting,
rock finding, rock digging,
pebbles scrubbing, colour dreming,
root rocks, soft rocks,
sculptured stones all on a roof top,
all displaced along the way by the planted tree.

tock de rock

tock de rock

A wander through water,
over water, under water,
raising water, tumble water,
shallow water to discover a new element.

yearaqua

A trek of freedom discovery,
past origination, forgotten stations,
hidden glory, silty stories,
sudden fading of layered horizontally.

freedom

freedom

A roving moment leaving the old harbour,
well behind the stored ships,
to enter deep sense oeuvre, daunting remakes,
what is behind does not remain.

de alvracht drie

de alvracht drie

A float surrounded by circles,
finding the inner coir,
displacing the outer mind as water becomes the soil,
linger to be silent drifting joy,
revealing miracles.

SPIRAL JOURNEY

SPIRAL JOURNEY

The next year celebration into a new direction
Spiral Journey
made without solitude engaging attitude.

happy NEW year

EARLY

An early morning walk on 29 July starting at 04.55 in my own words of perception.

the early morning mist longed over water
dancing skimping in distance

misty

misty

over wildFlower meadow hovers
veil of most tiniest of tiniest drops
touching everything with a dust off water
minute water forming a needed
awakening to long warm day
while short night ends

sunmist

sunmist

many will be moved
as i look for colour
that past moment
2 summers ago
somewhere else
own creation of nature
total feeling comes again
as the dream wakes on a sliding hill
as a stream it will come again

every drop a story

every drop a story

feeling warmth of growing sun
glistering silver dust thousand sparkles in one

streaks of light over the blue canvas sky
breath silence in shallow traffic
an adoring moment

streaks

streaks

nobody here
nobody there
only
a flatter of silver bird Wings
stroke movement curling in the sky
what will the day bring

early-bird

early bird

cool yellow rock
into shadow of doubt
a piece of land
mint marjoram bees
leave it all the same

ponds of drops

ponds of drops

you will not see
the end
from that bit
there

perspective of a moment

perspective of a moment

a late submission of a day gone

15

A new piece of land art inspired by a year, which is almost behind us.
The prime inspiration for the land art is an odd drifting part of a boat found in Rotterdam.

drifting oddness in Rotterdam

drifting oddness in Rotterdam

A great piece for some drifting land art however, just last year the canals of the UK had a drifting piece, called uprooted trees, so moving away from drifting. The shape stays as a pattern for planting trees.

reflecting thoughts

reflecting thoughts

A place for reflecting on our human being and the strength of trees.
Where ever I cruise with the Wånderlust I see the reflection of trees in the water growing like pieces of art holding on the edge of the land.

The next inspiration comes from a land art poem which is very popular on Flickr photo sharing site.

why

why

It made me think about a piece I made once in response to a video I saw about exponential function 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128 , etc.  How even today we still believe economical growth has no limit and keep on moving towards an ever increasing number. The report from the club of rome did already mention the impossible of continues growth, in the early seventies.

can we count

can we count

In the point of the pattern i plant one tree the next row 2 and than 4 finalising it with a row of 8 trees.

Further inspiration came from the street trees, how they are planted in the jungle of concrete and bricks. Around a street tree you will find a bit of earth, a place to shit for the city dogs. In 2013 Stamper died at the age of 16, my dear old doggie.

street trees in Dordrecht

street trees in Dordrecht

Dordrecht the place i was born the place where my papa died this year, looking over a chestnut tree, which stands at the edge of the river.
Not a square at the foot of the tree, too many corners for my liking. A circle with rocks around each single tree, filled with sticks as a mulch.

a vision between the stones of time

a vision between the stones of time

How dead trees help the living trees, going back into the earth, to feed the living. A vision of drifting sticks came into my mind. The sticks and pieces of wood we find in the canals drifting along the boats, the sticks we find, hiding behind the lock doors.

from the old comes the new

from the old comes the new

Willows, lots of Willows showing the art of trees showing the inspiration of drifting.

willow reflectionThe unexpected appearance in the spring, a living source of nectar for bees.

black hoodie

black hoodie

8 Willows it will be.
In between not so sure yet, Oaks or even Ash.
Every tree gets her own poem, some written in the past, some written now, some will be written. 15 written poems, land art poems, the written landscape take your time to read while you grow.

a poem once written this year recovered in the stream

a poem once written this year recovered in the stream

golvende momenten
van vrede
vallende draden
van het evenwicht
vloeiend naar de
leegte

Perhaps i will find it again, maybe not.

de river streams past

de river streams past

The location is clear somewhere on the edge of water, perhaps a peninsula, even better an island.
The shape made with iron hidden by driftwood. Iron collected from scrapped metal boats. You can visit the island by boat, only.

a drop in the ocean

a drop in the ocean

15 drops hidden in the ocean, drifting to be seen.

And

That is how a proposal was born.

shadow of the moon

shadow of the moon
shadowofthemoon6

white geese glide by
black hull waiting for some frosty bite of bread
in the sliver white light
giving shadows of a neck
no camera can picture

shadow of the moon

as the spark goes dull, by bright taking
away
the dark of the moon light

staying a little while chatting
in untold language
to visitors of the night

shadow of the moon

water turned
black hole with a fluff of white geese
my breath becomes
one with a puff lowering mist

shadow of the moon

longing for the glow of coal
the gander frowns
to find an other door in
moon
through
the
film
rancid rainbow
my door is no more than a flip flop

roos
from the cruising art gallery
Wånderlust