woensdag 2 maart 2011

Where nature finds her own way...

Just before the last exhibition in Meppel, I got the idea to combine these little works into
the “Chaos in theory”-series. Here you'll find the first three, the remaining parts will be here soon.

"Chaos in theory"
mixed media,  mdf on driftwood

part I

part II

part III

dinsdag 1 maart 2011

Working from two sides now...

...posting as wel older as new work, to make ends meet in the middle. We hope.

Digitaal work
40 x 40cm

There is a new series of drawings on the way, a bit bigger than usually, 40 x 60 cm,
this one being the first. And the first that already went too...

vrijdag 1 januari 1993

When in doubt... just post.

Though I officially started the first one in 1992, I thought i finished it in januar 1993. Does it matter? Not really, but I just want to be thorough, for once.

”One day meditation”

The whole operation took only five minutes
One did the shouting
One did the running
And I did the jumping and waved my arms
Highly astonished the sun coloured the beach
when she tried to climb the horizon

Wish I could meditate
for only one day
Would live my life
in twenty-four houres

oil on something
(17 x 35)

”Miracles & visions do uccur”

Miracles and visions do occur
as the morning suns’ beams
draw architectural structures

various techniques on chipboard
(56.5 x 57)

”Noone alive is innocent”

There was a child at the door
and it knew how to knock with a questionmark
Noone alive is innocent
"Am I guilty for laughing?"
the child asked the priest
and he thought a ball of fire
would come from his mouth
Then I saw my finger pointed in the air
My hand closed, needles formed a crown of thorns
Through & through & yet, no blood
Sometimes I'm alive & I see
the world only moves out of habit
& I try to slow down its' speed
Sometimes I wonder
how women put miracles together
I watch & I wonder
I enjoy & I fear

oil on panel
(24 x 44, 24 x 44)

woensdag 1 januari 1992

Some paintings got lost....

...in time. I invite anyone reading this, who owns a painting made by me and doesn't see his or hers between the ones here, to send me a picture. And if I made a poem to it, it would be very nice if you included that too.

”Let’s see…”

I push a cloud into freedom
through the hole in my head
in a soft whispering voice
dreaming words I fed with liquid emotions
this time I quit in time
only half an houre too late
let's meet in heaven afterwards
& see who lived in happiness
to the fullest, to the brim
& see who lived the lowest
the coldest & most dark
& see which one of us has learned the most
& let us shake hands afterwards
when we see that nothing matters
equally to anything, anything at all

oil on canvas
(40 x 60)

”I’m sorry we lost touch”

My difficult world
How do you do?
I’m sorry we lost touch
You know how it is in these hasty days
Remembrance takes half the speed out of living
There’s always something
behind my thoughts
asking to be forgiven
or –at least- be reconsidered

oil on plywood
(61 x 152)

”Nicht zum Sterben Zeit gehabt”

If the bottle had a trigger
my third eye would soon be real
tumbling down
I’d meet the colourfull waves
I wouldn’t even have time to flashback
Is death time, holding pace?
Or is death
when time stops
without letting me know?

Various techniques on chipboard
(56 x 119.5)

dinsdag 1 januari 1991

The search for ways to express what happens inside...

...expanded to words. The right words. Not to make anything clear. Far from it.

”The end of winter”

It’s cold and white
and the horizon dances around
in a wide, wide circle
and doesn’t seize to tease
From the dark, grey sky
come the white, white flakes
and my chill reaches the ground,
simultaneously and just as silent

If spring’s gonna start here
I swore I’d take it like a man
or like a flower
and drink the melting snow
And what I imagine to be
an arm around my shoulder
will be
gently falling rain

oil on canvas

”I touch, I stroke, I feel”

The deafening silence thunders,
has her wings spread over my wings and sings
She sings between my fingers,
her thoughts hang on my shoulders for now
I touch her briefly
stroke her kindly
I feel her warmth from within

The darkness on a horse is in here
It shouts no words
It screams no sounds
Invisible for the eye in daylight
Not to be mentioned in a motionless night
I touch her briefly
stroke her kindly
I feel her warmth from within

oil on plywood
(67 x 67)

”The thought”

One day one of the dices will explode
on a round table, making music disappear
I captured a thought in a bell below the ceiling
Could do nothing more than open a window
& hope it was all & would be forever
I know the feeling was mutual
The thought loved to leave me behind
and independently fill another sky

oil on something
(20 x 35)

vrijdag 2 februari 1990

Still trying to find the obvious, anew

”To all of your commands I obey,
who made your world
and created your life
To all of my commands you obey,
who wander through my world
and live all of my lives”

various techniques on chipwood
(80 x125)

Lost the title, have to get back on that... it's oil on something very hard though... Sold, also.1

”So be it, coffee spilled over broken wishes”

Well both in the flesh
needed abstract utilities
Invisible in the hugh, high hall
was the man with the lamp
I walked right through him
as I once did before

So be it, coffee spilled over broken wishes
My island floats,
I feel secure
Between this winters’ pearls
I take my humble bow

oil on plywood
(75 x 88)

donderdag 1 februari 1990

On the brink of the roaring '90-ties

”Absurd rain”

Whispered sentences through the park
Thought them making sense
in absurd rain
Small sounds suggesting silence
The grey grassland is wrinkling its’ skin
humoured by the noisy speed of youth

oil on projection-screen
(42 x 74)

This one initially started in the same Kibbutz, Gesher Haziv, a very strange Christmas-evening with a Danisch co-volunteer, and later, different strange countries later, finished at home.

”At times I sniff reality”

At times I sniff reality
At times, when you’re discribing
this world to me,
I long to see it
At times I fantasise a two steps further,
turn my back
& whisper words of soothing to the past
Deaf as it looks through me in future
I twirl in present
Find no grip
in has been or will be

oil on plywood
(80 x 120)

”Why compliment her with the beauty of her skin”

Freedom is in naked shoulders
Sometimes in just bare feet
What I want to do lies behind tomorrow
A night, a barrier to overcome,
smooth and easy and like a dream

Nothing interests me more
than the mood that’ll hold my hands
& I hope I can put them on my belly
and make them smile to what’s in there

various techniques on chipboard
(40 x 50)