tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78131191098306243322024-03-13T22:47:27.668-07:00Home is where the art isRené paints, scratches, scraps, throws and gently smears colour on surface. There where it belongs, there where it feels right...René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-50083594528053630892011-03-02T11:39:00.000-08:002011-03-02T11:45:51.572-08:00Where nature finds her own way...<div style="text-align: left;">Just before the last exhibition in Meppel, I got the idea to combine these little works into</div><div style="text-align: left;">the “Chaos in theory”-series. Here you'll find the first three, the remaining parts will be here soon.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
"Chaos in theory"<br />
2006-2011<br />
mixed media, mdf on driftwood <br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
part I</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-7SN2qeAxvMs/TW6aNn6rCRI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/UMyh55UQHc4/s1600/chaos-in-theorie-deel-1.jpg" linkindex="21" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-7SN2qeAxvMs/TW6aNn6rCRI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/UMyh55UQHc4/s320/chaos-in-theorie-deel-1.jpg" width="171" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">part II</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jkeobjCMd0M/TW6aOG603PI/AAAAAAAAAOU/y-8SjTUDt_I/s1600/chaos-in-theorie-deel-2.jpg" linkindex="22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jkeobjCMd0M/TW6aOG603PI/AAAAAAAAAOU/y-8SjTUDt_I/s320/chaos-in-theorie-deel-2.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">part III</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-p-Zzaf1gn3Q/TW6aOqQrSHI/AAAAAAAAAOY/WGi-pydVuWw/s1600/chaos-in-theorie-deel-3.jpg" linkindex="23" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-p-Zzaf1gn3Q/TW6aOqQrSHI/AAAAAAAAAOY/WGi-pydVuWw/s320/chaos-in-theorie-deel-3.jpg" width="160" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-1014350437184258752011-03-01T05:46:00.000-08:002011-03-01T05:47:36.529-08:00Working from two sides now......posting as wel older as new work, to make ends meet in the middle. We hope.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Pv-zyq0AeiU/TWzyMKRs_KI/AAAAAAAAAM0/_n-ueCEEirE/s1600/achtergrondp.jpg" linkindex="19" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Pv-zyq0AeiU/TWzyMKRs_KI/AAAAAAAAAM0/_n-ueCEEirE/s320/achtergrondp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Digitaal work</div><div style="text-align: center;">2011</div><div style="text-align: center;">40 x 40cm</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-tMge_8oxZVU/TWz2-s0l3MI/AAAAAAAAAM4/6KG4NVxlxa4/s1600/da-tongue.jpg" linkindex="20" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-tMge_8oxZVU/TWz2-s0l3MI/AAAAAAAAAM4/6KG4NVxlxa4/s320/da-tongue.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
There is a new series of drawings on the way, a bit bigger than usually, 40 x 60 cm,<br />
this one being the first. And the first that already went too...</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-47879325176686892201993-01-01T07:28:00.000-08:002011-03-02T07:47:48.676-08:00When 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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZR_yFDcVLOc/TW5icX_l1CI/AAAAAAAAAOM/U_GxyT_0RtY/s1600/oneday+meditation.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="21" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZR_yFDcVLOc/TW5icX_l1CI/AAAAAAAAAOM/U_GxyT_0RtY/s320/oneday+meditation.jpg" width="145" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”One day meditation”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The whole operation took only five minutes</div><div style="text-align: center;">One did the shouting</div><div style="text-align: center;">One did the running</div><div style="text-align: center;">And I did the jumping and waved my arms</div><div style="text-align: center;">Highly astonished the sun coloured the beach</div><div style="text-align: center;">when she tried to climb the horizon</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wish I could meditate</div><div style="text-align: center;">for only one day</div><div style="text-align: center;">Would live my life</div><div style="text-align: center;">in twenty-four houres</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1992</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on something</div><div style="text-align: center;">(17 x 35)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jR7lGrNP-9M/TW5ibrMKzrI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Q__Z8L5igak/s1600/miracles+and+visions.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jR7lGrNP-9M/TW5ibrMKzrI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Q__Z8L5igak/s320/miracles+and+visions.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Miracles & visions do uccur”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Miracles and visions do occur</div><div style="text-align: center;">as the morning suns’ beams</div><div style="text-align: center;">draw architectural structures</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1993</div><div style="text-align: center;">various techniques on chipboard</div><div style="text-align: center;">(56.5 x 57)<br />
Sold. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Fe5EDXQGDX4/TW5icHN2vbI/AAAAAAAAAOI/afumZVzqAeY/s1600/noone+alive1.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="23" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Fe5EDXQGDX4/TW5icHN2vbI/AAAAAAAAAOI/afumZVzqAeY/s320/noone+alive1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Noone alive is innocent”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">There was a child at the door</div><div style="text-align: center;">and it knew how to knock with a questionmark</div><div style="text-align: center;">Noone alive is innocent</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Am I guilty for laughing?"</div><div style="text-align: center;">the child asked the priest</div><div style="text-align: center;">and he thought a ball of fire</div><div style="text-align: center;">would come from his mouth</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then I saw my finger pointed in the air</div><div style="text-align: center;">My hand closed, needles formed a crown of thorns</div><div style="text-align: center;">Through & through & yet, no blood</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes I'm alive & I see</div><div style="text-align: center;">the world only moves out of habit</div><div style="text-align: center;">& I try to slow down its' speed</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes I wonder</div><div style="text-align: center;">how women put miracles together</div><div style="text-align: center;">I watch & I wonder</div><div style="text-align: center;">I enjoy & I fear</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1993</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on panel</div><div style="text-align: center;">(24 x 44, 24 x 44)</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-36131867862632134261992-01-01T06:17:00.000-08:002011-03-02T06:27:50.326-08:00Some 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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-I17ERKpLrcc/TW5R_Tmya1I/AAAAAAAAAN4/xrtli8HX9Kg/s1600/lets+see.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="154" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-I17ERKpLrcc/TW5R_Tmya1I/AAAAAAAAAN4/xrtli8HX9Kg/s320/lets+see.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Let’s see…”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I push a cloud into freedom</div><div style="text-align: center;">through the hole in my head</div><div style="text-align: center;">in a soft whispering voice</div><div style="text-align: center;">dreaming words I fed with liquid emotions</div><div style="text-align: center;">this time I quit in time</div><div style="text-align: center;">only half an houre too late</div><div style="text-align: center;">let's meet in heaven afterwards</div><div style="text-align: center;">& see who lived in happiness</div><div style="text-align: center;">to the fullest, to the brim</div><div style="text-align: center;">& see who lived the lowest</div><div style="text-align: center;">the coldest & most dark</div><div style="text-align: center;">& see which one of us has learned the most</div><div style="text-align: center;">& let us shake hands afterwards</div><div style="text-align: center;">when we see that nothing matters</div><div style="text-align: center;">equally to anything, anything at all</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1992</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">(40 x 60)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-HqzFoZOdcPE/TW5R_993jeI/AAAAAAAAAN8/oS9BbADzhZg/s1600/lost+touch.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="155" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-HqzFoZOdcPE/TW5R_993jeI/AAAAAAAAAN8/oS9BbADzhZg/s320/lost+touch.jpg" width="122" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”I’m sorry we lost touch”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My difficult world</div><div style="text-align: center;">How do you do?</div><div style="text-align: center;">I’m sorry we lost touch</div><div style="text-align: center;">You know how it is in these hasty days</div><div style="text-align: center;">Remembrance takes half the speed out of living</div><div style="text-align: center;">There’s always something</div><div style="text-align: center;">behind my thoughts</div><div style="text-align: center;">asking to be forgiven</div><div style="text-align: center;">or –at least- be reconsidered</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1992</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on plywood</div><div style="text-align: center;">(61 x 152)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-uOSwpEjrpEs/TW5SLXAmT1I/AAAAAAAAAOA/_FNY2Wnxd2E/s1600/nicht+zum+sterben+zeit+gehabt.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="156" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-uOSwpEjrpEs/TW5SLXAmT1I/AAAAAAAAAOA/_FNY2Wnxd2E/s320/nicht+zum+sterben+zeit+gehabt.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Nicht zum Sterben Zeit gehabt”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">If the bottle had a trigger</div><div style="text-align: center;">my third eye would soon be real</div><div style="text-align: center;">tumbling down</div><div style="text-align: center;">I’d meet the colourfull waves</div><div style="text-align: center;">I wouldn’t even have time to flashback</div><div style="text-align: center;">Is death time, holding pace?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or is death</div><div style="text-align: center;">when time stops</div><div style="text-align: center;">without letting me know?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1992</div><div style="text-align: center;">Various techniques on chipboard</div><div style="text-align: center;">(56 x 119.5)</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-85929684902880570271991-01-01T04:21:00.000-08:002011-03-02T04:24:41.130-08:00The search for ways to express what happens inside......expanded to words. The right words. Not to make anything clear. Far from it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-wgcaGfFcqDY/TW40vLxbMeI/AAAAAAAAANs/MbxsX7DVFNw/s1600/End+of+winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="24" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-wgcaGfFcqDY/TW40vLxbMeI/AAAAAAAAANs/MbxsX7DVFNw/s320/End+of+winter.jpg" width="233" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”The end of winter”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It’s cold and white</div><div style="text-align: center;">and the horizon dances around</div><div style="text-align: center;">in a wide, wide circle</div><div style="text-align: center;">and doesn’t seize to tease</div><div style="text-align: center;">From the dark, grey sky</div><div style="text-align: center;">come the white, white flakes</div><div style="text-align: center;">and my chill reaches the ground,</div><div style="text-align: center;">simultaneously and just as silent</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">If spring’s gonna start here</div><div style="text-align: center;">I swore I’d take it like a man</div><div style="text-align: center;">or like a flower</div><div style="text-align: center;">and drink the melting snow</div><div style="text-align: center;">And what I imagine to be</div><div style="text-align: center;">an arm around my shoulder</div><div style="text-align: center;">will be</div><div style="text-align: center;">gently falling rain</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1991</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">(40x50)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8hGK7MLD2_w/TW40v0svT8I/AAAAAAAAANw/Osvk2y2QSDA/s1600/I+touch.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="25" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8hGK7MLD2_w/TW40v0svT8I/AAAAAAAAANw/Osvk2y2QSDA/s320/I+touch.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”I touch, I stroke, I feel”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The deafening silence thunders,</div><div style="text-align: center;">has her wings spread over my wings and sings</div><div style="text-align: center;">She sings between my fingers,</div><div style="text-align: center;">her thoughts hang on my shoulders for now</div><div style="text-align: center;">I touch her briefly</div><div style="text-align: center;">stroke her kindly</div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel her warmth from within</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The darkness on a horse is in here</div><div style="text-align: center;">It shouts no words</div><div style="text-align: center;">It screams no sounds</div><div style="text-align: center;">Invisible for the eye in daylight</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not to be mentioned in a motionless night</div><div style="text-align: center;">I touch her briefly</div><div style="text-align: center;">stroke her kindly</div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel her warmth from within</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1991</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on plywood</div><div style="text-align: center;">(67 x 67)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-bn1pKybKS2k/TW40waF9nKI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-cRD8sCS0wk/s1600/Thought.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="26" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-bn1pKybKS2k/TW40waF9nKI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-cRD8sCS0wk/s320/Thought.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”The thought”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">One day one of the dices will explode</div><div style="text-align: center;">on a round table, making music disappear</div><div style="text-align: center;">I captured a thought in a bell below the ceiling</div><div style="text-align: center;">Could do nothing more than open a window</div><div style="text-align: center;">& hope it was all & would be forever</div><div style="text-align: center;">I know the feeling was mutual</div><div style="text-align: center;">The thought loved to leave me behind</div><div style="text-align: center;">and independently fill another sky</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1991</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on something</div><div style="text-align: center;">(20 x 35)</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-49699301421218243421990-02-02T02:28:00.000-08:002011-03-01T02:37:27.178-08:00Still trying to find the obvious, anew<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-J6cEUE6jKl4/TWzKdsktFBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/tjuGwgM83to/s1600/LIFELI%257E1.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="21" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-J6cEUE6jKl4/TWzKdsktFBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/tjuGwgM83to/s320/LIFELI%257E1.jpg" width="204" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”To all of your commands I obey,</div><div style="text-align: center;">who made your world</div><div style="text-align: center;">and created your life</div><div style="text-align: center;">To all of my commands you obey,</div><div style="text-align: center;">who wander through my world</div><div style="text-align: center;">and live all of my lives”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1990</div><div style="text-align: center;">various techniques on chipwood</div><div style="text-align: center;">(80 x125)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sold.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YlOzKr_KYEI/TWzKd0kLroI/AAAAAAAAAMc/iQfKMjTSic4/s1600/manboom.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YlOzKr_KYEI/TWzKd0kLroI/AAAAAAAAAMc/iQfKMjTSic4/s320/manboom.jpg" width="178" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Lost the title, have to get back on that... it's oil on something very hard though... Sold, also.1</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-kNfrs5i5kZg/TWzKeDr732I/AAAAAAAAAMg/lUGMAEqBvJI/s1600/so+be+it.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="23" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-kNfrs5i5kZg/TWzKeDr732I/AAAAAAAAAMg/lUGMAEqBvJI/s320/so+be+it.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”So be it, coffee spilled over broken wishes”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well both in the flesh</div><div style="text-align: center;">needed abstract utilities</div><div style="text-align: center;">Invisible in the hugh, high hall</div><div style="text-align: center;">was the man with the lamp</div><div style="text-align: center;">I walked right through him</div><div style="text-align: center;">as I once did before</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So be it, coffee spilled over broken wishes</div><div style="text-align: center;">My island floats,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel secure</div><div style="text-align: center;">Between this winters’ pearls</div><div style="text-align: center;">I take my humble bow</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1990</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on plywood</div><div style="text-align: center;">(75 x 88)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-4432202706241889871990-02-01T02:24:00.000-08:002011-03-01T02:27:53.924-08:00On the brink of the roaring '90-ties<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-33NTDvN_Ioo/TWzHbJiAYkI/AAAAAAAAAMM/XqMCUJsUfWs/s1600/absurd+rain.jpg" linkindex="23" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-33NTDvN_Ioo/TWzHbJiAYkI/AAAAAAAAAMM/XqMCUJsUfWs/s320/absurd+rain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Absurd rain”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Whispered sentences through the park</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thought them making sense</div><div style="text-align: center;">in absurd rain</div><div style="text-align: center;">Small sounds suggesting silence</div><div style="text-align: center;">The grey grassland is wrinkling its’ skin</div><div style="text-align: center;">humoured by the noisy speed of youth</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1990</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on projection-screen</div><div style="text-align: center;">(42 x 74)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This one initially started in the same Kibbutz, <a href="http://toolserver.org/%7Egeohack/geohack.php?pagename=Gesher_HaZiv&params=33_2_20.4_N_35_6_40.67_E_region:IL_type:city" linkindex="24">Gesher Haziv</a>, a very strange Christmas-evening with a Danisch co-volunteer, and later, different strange countries later, finished at home. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0kAn4W1iiDY/TWzHbRqd-FI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/vbY5SZXjraI/s1600/at+times+I+sniff+reality.jpg" linkindex="25" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0kAn4W1iiDY/TWzHbRqd-FI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/vbY5SZXjraI/s320/at+times+I+sniff+reality.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”At times I sniff reality”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">At times I sniff reality</div><div style="text-align: center;">At times, when you’re discribing</div><div style="text-align: center;">this world to me,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I long to see it</div><div style="text-align: center;">At times I fantasise a two steps further,</div><div style="text-align: center;">turn my back</div><div style="text-align: center;">& whisper words of soothing to the past</div><div style="text-align: center;">Deaf as it looks through me in future</div><div style="text-align: center;">I twirl in present</div><div style="text-align: center;">Find no grip</div><div style="text-align: center;">in has been or will be</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1990</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on plywood</div><div style="text-align: center;">(80 x 120)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-y5LC6kiNqYc/TWzHb8t6pcI/AAAAAAAAAMU/Rt1HGj8R9JE/s1600/why+compliment+her.jpg" linkindex="26" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-y5LC6kiNqYc/TWzHb8t6pcI/AAAAAAAAAMU/Rt1HGj8R9JE/s320/why+compliment+her.jpg" width="257" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Why compliment her with the beauty of her skin”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Freedom is in naked shoulders</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes in just bare feet</div><div style="text-align: center;">What I want to do lies behind tomorrow</div><div style="text-align: center;">A night, a barrier to overcome,</div><div style="text-align: center;">smooth and easy and like a dream</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Nothing interests me more</div><div style="text-align: center;">than the mood that’ll hold my hands</div><div style="text-align: center;">& I hope I can put them on my belly</div><div style="text-align: center;">and make them smile to what’s in there</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1990</div><div style="text-align: center;">various techniques on chipboard</div><div style="text-align: center;">(40 x 50)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-89135098342257335741989-01-01T23:49:00.000-08:002011-03-01T02:02:25.338-08:00And then there's a world to exploreSometimes you mumble, sometimes you cry. Every once in a while you just got to scream a bit. And slowly the feeling starts to take root that not all has to be said...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-uXFS3rVLgg0/TWyyBaOKp6I/AAAAAAAAAL4/MHeDh9ezZXY/s1600/simply+have+to+touch.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="19" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-uXFS3rVLgg0/TWyyBaOKp6I/AAAAAAAAAL4/MHeDh9ezZXY/s320/simply+have+to+touch.jpg" width="231" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">”My eyes just simply have to touch”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I make them; these days of present</div><div style="text-align: center;">push them over,</div><div style="text-align: center;">call them mine</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can see the life within you</div><div style="text-align: center;">My eyes just simply have to touch</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1989</div><div style="text-align: center;">crayon on newspaper</div><div style="text-align: center;">(50 x 70)<br />
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I made this one when living in a kibbutz. Didn't have much more material than crayons and newspapers. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MV1zK8UX_Xo/TWyyBgEC68I/AAAAAAAAAL8/8dg3BcX7o1g/s1600/splinters+of+an+atmosphere.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="20" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MV1zK8UX_Xo/TWyyBgEC68I/AAAAAAAAAL8/8dg3BcX7o1g/s320/splinters+of+an+atmosphere.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Splinters of an athmosphere”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">While forgotten music holds the grass,</div><div style="text-align: center;">just above its’ roots</div><div style="text-align: center;">& stops it from moving with the winds,</div><div style="text-align: center;">sure of itself</div><div style="text-align: center;">as only a child or a cat can be,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I start to like the darkness,</div><div style="text-align: center;">‘cause her thoughts are of her own</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, she is female</div><div style="text-align: center;">& I draw the lines between images</div><div style="text-align: center;">& feel the splinters of an athmosphere</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1989</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on linen</div><div style="text-align: center;">(30 x 40)</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-64041056175827682961988-02-01T00:01:00.000-08:002011-03-01T02:01:50.523-08:00Then came a time of trying, finding ways to speak with paint<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">When the smell of oilpaint first passed my nostrils, took a turn to the left and decided to stay...</div></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TR3apGmBekQ/TWylYAm008I/AAAAAAAAALU/cem93gpKbbM/s1600/her+silence.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="21" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TR3apGmBekQ/TWylYAm008I/AAAAAAAAALU/cem93gpKbbM/s320/her+silence.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">”Her silence”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The water did her flowing</div><div style="text-align: center;">turning, twirling to the left</div><div style="text-align: center;">She watched</div><div style="text-align: center;">Her feet embraced</div><div style="text-align: center;">the surface of a flat stone</div><div style="text-align: center;">Her fingers watched her</div><div style="text-align: center;">from strange positions in the water</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stopped watching</div><div style="text-align: center;">when she felt her thoughts dragged out</div><div style="text-align: center;">The stream was grinning</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ruthless sun burning</div><div style="text-align: center;">Invisible voices stopped for a moment</div><div style="text-align: center;">& her silence held it all between two fingers</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1988</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">(40 x 50)</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fudjWnILdvY/TWyfLhpJk7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/X8WwZT3vNFc/s1600/three+voices.jpg" linkindex="22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fudjWnILdvY/TWyfLhpJk7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/X8WwZT3vNFc/s320/three+voices.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”I’ve got three voices to talk to thin air</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not one of them needs to be heard”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1988</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on canvas</div><div style="text-align: center;">(65 x 80)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-63SBvR-bgEY/TWyfiiRVL1I/AAAAAAAAALE/oJdo5WjEp98/s1600/sleep+on+a+mirror.jpg" linkindex="23" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-63SBvR-bgEY/TWyfiiRVL1I/AAAAAAAAALE/oJdo5WjEp98/s320/sleep+on+a+mirror.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Will I sleep on a mirror tonight</div><div style="text-align: center;">& break it with my dreams?”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1988</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on linen</div><div style="text-align: center;">(65 x 80)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The last ones both have been sold. The second one really was a trade for a cooler, that, after a very long and succesfull carreer finally passed away. Softly. With a smile on it's door.</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813119109830624332.post-11982067464838839811988-01-01T00:18:00.000-08:002011-03-01T02:01:17.844-08:00One of the first works ever, if I'm right this piece of plywood used to be the backside of a cupboard... The first load of oilpaint and brushes came from two deceised granddads...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ZdPqFKBX9dg/TWyo6gFPGaI/AAAAAAAAALs/faYsCLfXHcM/s320/curle+up+and+hide.jpg" width="223" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Curle up & hide”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Senseless in a way of speaking</div><div style="text-align: center;">I close my eyes and feel</div><div style="text-align: center;">the inside of my egg-shell</div><div style="text-align: center;">Perfectly round, a million familiar spots</div><div style="text-align: center;">No reason to get out of here</div><div style="text-align: center;">but curiosity and a strong urge to</div><div style="text-align: center;">-finally-</div><div style="text-align: center;">stretch my leggs</div><div style="text-align: center;">Senseless in a way of speaking</div><div style="text-align: center;">I open my eyes and feel</div><div style="text-align: center;">the sharves of my egg-shell</div><div style="text-align: center;">Divided, broken, a million now alienated spots</div><div style="text-align: center;">No possibillity to get back in there</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just a little fear and a strong urge to</div><div style="text-align: center;">-again-</div><div style="text-align: center;">curl up and hide</div><div style="text-align: center;">We’ll all grow up to be wise children</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1988</div><div style="text-align: center;">oil on plywood</div><div style="text-align: center;">(45 x 65)</div>René http://www.blogger.com/profile/17589061004973663466noreply@blogger.com0