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"
2006-2011
mixed media,  mdf on driftwood

part I

part II

part III

Working from two sides now...

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

Digitaal work

2011

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...

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

1992

oil on something

(17 x 35)

”Miracles & visions do uccur”

Miracles and visions do occur

as the morning suns’ beams

draw architectural structures

1993

various techniques on chipboard

(56.5 x 57)
Sold.

”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

1993

oil on panel

(24 x 44, 24 x 44)

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

1992

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

1992

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?

1992

Various techniques on chipboard

(56 x 119.5)

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

1991

oil on canvas

(40x50)

”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

1991

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

1991

oil on something

(20 x 35)

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”

1990

various techniques on chipwood

(80 x125)

Sold.

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

1990

oil on plywood

(75 x 88)

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

1990

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

1990

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

1990

various techniques on chipboard

(40 x 50)

And then there's a world to explore

Sometimes 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...

”My eyes just simply have to touch”

I make them; these days of present

push them over,

call them mine

I can see the life within you

My eyes just simply have to touch

1989

crayon on newspaper

(50 x 70)

I made this one when living in a kibbutz. Didn't have much more material than crayons and newspapers.

”Splinters of an athmosphere”

While forgotten music holds the grass,

just above its’ roots

& stops it from moving with the winds,

sure of itself

as only a child or a cat can be,

I start to like the darkness,

‘cause her thoughts are of her own

Yes, she is female

& I draw the lines between images

& feel the splinters of an athmosphere

1989

oil on linen

(30 x 40)

Then came a time of trying, finding ways to speak with paint

When the smell of oilpaint first passed my nostrils, took a turn to the left and decided to stay...

”Her silence”

The water did her flowing

turning, twirling to the left

She watched

Her feet embraced

the surface of a flat stone

Her fingers watched her

from strange positions in the water

Stopped watching

when she felt her thoughts dragged out

The stream was grinning

Ruthless sun burning

Invisible voices stopped for a moment

& her silence held it all between two fingers

1988

oil on canvas

(40 x 50)

”I’ve got three voices to talk to thin air

Not one of them needs to be heard”

1988

oil on canvas

(65 x 80)

”Will I sleep on a mirror tonight

& break it with my dreams?”

1988

oil on linen

(65 x 80)

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.

One 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...

”Curle up & hide”

Senseless in a way of speaking

I close my eyes and feel

the inside of my egg-shell

Perfectly round, a million familiar spots

No reason to get out of here

but curiosity and a strong urge to

-finally-

stretch my leggs

Senseless in a way of speaking

I open my eyes and feel

the sharves of my egg-shell

Divided, broken, a million now alienated spots

No possibillity to get back in there

Just a little fear and a strong urge to

-again-

curl up and hide

We’ll all grow up to be wise children

1988

oil on plywood

(45 x 65)