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.

 

MEEUWEN IN DE TUIN

SCHIMMEN SPELL

coincidence of no focussing camera
macro point of view
into infinity

eyes

eyes

TOEVALLIG
FORTUITOUS

unexpected random appearance
don’t like
record of time
waving by on constant
grommmrrrrr
looking for silence sight
finding literature gardens
standing in black past

black sight

black sight

ONVOORZIEN
ACCIDENTAL

observant mind draws an other
picture
alert neglect
movement flows in air
float on water
leaving no remark

schimmen spel

schimmen spel

ONWILLEKEURIG
UNWITTINGLY

it goes shining over dreams
inspirational Blues
seeding representation under
Windlight sims
mention in passing fine lines
divide us

what you see    what i see

what you see what i see

LUKRAAK
HAPHAZARDLY

a camera alone will never do it
eyes will not see it
together they show a screen

mP

Inspired by
http://www.moewenglanz.de

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.

READ TO DISCOVER

At the moment I am working on two small poetry books which will be sold along the canals.
The question came up: should poetry be self explanatory, so people will read and understand about what you are writing? Shall Poetry be made according to the rules and regulations of language – grammar and spelling  – or can the poet just play with words?
The discussion came about due to a line in one of my poems were it looked as if the word “leave” should have been “leaf”. My answer is: it can be both, both meanings, whatever you want. When you read it in the context of the poem it even can be both, but I spelled it as leave meaning departure.
Leave has several other meanings like holiday, farewell, exit, goodbye and leave as a verb has similar meanings; depart, go, retire, pull out, set sail, abandon and next to it you have ‘leave out’  which means exclude.
In the poem:  “Where the leave touches the stream” followed by “soft reflection drifting into a motion of no direction” So it cold be both a leaf from the tree just fallen in the canal, or a departure or even a holiday. That makes it, in my opinion, special; that makes it literary art created with words, being creative with words.
If text needs to explain something you should not be creative with words but weigh the meanings of the words and use them in a clear matter.

Image

old text Cathach of St. Columba

The druid in Celtic society, as the wise people, memorised their knowledge in the form of verse and poetry. These poems are not self explanatory but a way to train your memory as the Celts didn’t use books or script to store their knowledge like the Romans did.
When we look at these old poems, specially those that were written down in Ireland, we will be puzzled as time changes language. A language is not static, so the text can’t be a true text and will always be interpreted. Even more so when a text is translated in an other language.
We use language mainly as a form of communication. Art can become a form of communication but also can be open to the imagination, poetry can be imaginable, being dream like – even unreal – that shows the beauty of poetry and language: using words in a dream like way to stimulate the readers imagination.
Language can be just like a picture we all see it in a different way, as Rene Magritte said: “this is not a pipe” under a picture of a pipe.

My poetry will be with a photo but the poem doesn’t explain the picture, both will show a way of seeing. The human imagination comes in many shapes and forms and we shouldn’t be afraid of it. Some of my poems show how I see the photo, or the moment the photo was taken this doesn’t mean that you should see it in the same way as me. The title of one book is; “the little book of drops” yet every drop shows a lot more than just a drop of water.

Sparkle

Dusky glimmer in the rain     
gives a dashing stroke without a brush,  
to avoid the flashing witty twinkle

The dropping becomes the prism without the cutting edge     
The colour palette holds the Rainbow against the light

The beast gets a revelation on her hair   
No more hiding away in the dark corner

She slowly wander to the glowing ball of water,    
hangs on while it falls from the movement of her legs,     
a lost tick

Image

What do you think?

WATER under the bridge

WATER

the rain falls on drowned
fishes
it gave you nothing you can hold

waterswan

the clouds of ribbons close like screams
nothing feels as it
seems
between the pain and the gain stands the
weeping willow
floating to the top of the hill where a wild raspberry
grows

waterinthecorner

the shivering popular calls your name
as you start to climb into the frame
when she came
back
she found you on a lost track
this woman is free she will not fall on your knee
something white shows her
solitude

watershadow

the red light of the ferry
sees the
ho
ri
zon
she is happy that you came
over
the curtain of curtsey

watervertical

dance the flows
away

partly written on the road partly taken during the expo of water

ROOS

BEACH ART

Going down the beach at low tide creating a pattern in the sand with rocks, to let it all wash away by the high tide. Some thoughts on land art.

white rocks on black sand

white rocks on black sand

 

At times nobody sees the art at all, well no humans, art with no presence, art wit no attitude, no frame of mind. An impression on the landscape made from the landscape created in the landscape to perhaps remember how amazing the landscape is.

driftwood in a circle

driftwood in a circle

This lovely picture will be printed in a dairy for 2014, yet the stick is gone, the circle is broken.
Land art as a pretty picture, the photo is the art but, i am no photographer. Is it a documentation for the future of what it once was as nature vanish bit by bit while i write this down. Do i show the vanishing nature? As the art vanishes by an act of nature, the high tide.
Or do i remind you that art has no value as it will vanish one day, the value lays in that special moment, not in the staying.

as the water comes closer i have to rush

as the water comes closer i have to rush

As a land-artist you touches nature as nature touches humans. A stone is not just a stone as you take it in your hand and paint with it. It isn’t a sculpture placed in the landscape nor  a site related installation. The landscape is used as art, yet it is in the end just a picture of a line of stones.
We can’t sell nature yet we do it all the time, even the foot-step left behind in nature,we sell.

dancing seaweed written on stones

dancing seaweed written on stones

It represents real life it needs real touch, it demands contact. Not just an image.

leave it all behind
for no reason
give it no value
just the touch
of a
moment
in
nature
*_*