BERLINO Wants YOU to...

"How enduring, how we need durability.

The sky before sunrise is soaked with light.

Rosy color tints buildings, bridges, and the Seine.

I was here when she, with whom I walk, wasn’t born yet

And the cities on a distant plan stood intact

Before they rose in the air with the dust of sepulchral brick

And the people who live there didn’t know.

Only this moment at dawn is real to me.

The bygone lives are like my own past life, uncertain.

I cast a spell on the city asking it to last." 

At Dawn - Czeslaw Milosz

Pencil on paper

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1. 
   

Deep is the web of the city. ("when I came into this land, I did not understand...")

Fusion Dancer

""The sky is blue" he said "the grass is green". Looking up, he saw that, on the contrary, the sky is like the veils which a thousand Madonnas have let fall from their hair; and the grass fleets and darkens like a flight of girls fleeing the embraces of hairy satyrs from enchanted woods."

WOOLF , VIRGINIA - Orlando

(Medium: Colored pencil, charcoal pencil and gimp. Form inspired by Man Ray's Chevelures)

Lizzara&Tatsch - Trompa (Alle Farben Remix) by Alle Farben

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Anything We Want

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In Memoriam Calculus

Poetry in the cracks, in the abysmal crevices

that stitched up the hours of those days

(My father is dying)

Let me make you some tea!

6 minutes to boil the water

3 to brew the leaves 

10 sips per cup

5 cups per pot

These things I could count

The crystals loosening in

the longest lake of the North

Each water molecule can have

4 hydrogen bonds by

delocalized electrons

I can hear them click together

As they tumble and sink in

to the petroleum dark water

their 104º angles hum at 

liquid 4ºC density

These things I could measure

The polar sun smearing

its long caress of blue

and gold along the horizon

I know the secrets when Light 

holds 590nm at the side of 474

and don't knead the dough too hard! 

Saccharomyces happily swimming 

in a little squeeze of syrup 

3 cups of flour to 

1 cup of water

These things I could weigh

But recounting, I couldn’t escape the elongated hours

The tea leaves disintegrate

The bonds paused

The light froze 

The Infinitesimal Integration of my Grief

The tangent endlessly bending

To the dictatorship of O

My love, my ambiguity infinitely bowing

To the totalitarianism of death

(The nurses report solidifying on the receiver. The wooden dock plunging out into the lake, the chains heavy on the planks. The tin foil holding samples in the lab as I looked at the phone lying on the table.

Waiting, waiting for the call that would give an answer to my Integral) 

Oil on canvas, GIMP

The Boats - The Days We Didn't Spend by Fluid Radio


O! (I do feel like Mr Bloom)

Ben Woods Taking Small Steps Pt.1 by nidhalskywalker

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(A tribute to the days I know must have been between the 4th and 8th of May 2011 - And a thank-you to those faces that kept me sane, Maria, Anna, Beni and Ulrich among others)


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In retentis

"Fortunately it's unhealthy to insist on living in the past, but you can't be very proud of yourself when you realize you've more or less disowned it. That's why they invented that dreadful compromise: Commemoration. Yesterday blood, today red wine salted with tears. Many people find release that way. To others, it must seem horrible."

Simone de Beauvoir - The Mandarins

-

Tornetrask, Swedish Lapland.

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 " I don't suppose you'll ever forgive me

for being so silent

the silence, this silence, belongs to you

semi quavers of doubt

interpolated

laughter drifts into the mist

this silence is beyond

both the silence you voice says nothing"

(Desmond Donnellan - Scribblings)

  

                                     

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Feathers on our breath

"The effect of music is so very much more powerful and penetrating than is that of the other arts, for these others speak only of the shadow, but music of the essence."

- Arthur Shopenhauer -

"Ten thirsty fingers of my blind Muse

Confer upon my face their sensual spelling"

- Lawrence Durell -

Pencil on paper

Underexposed: Field Rotation - Cloud Observation by Fluid Radio


In our feline board
Leopard stains have been pulled square

And along this zebra field
Black or white, we toe the line

The rules are played like
The strings of a shipwrecked quartet
Sometimes the grid wavers
(Spaghetti dancing away on the boil)
Should I kill the King? Should I undress the queen?
Sheer away their lacquered robes!

…Everyone is always a better player, when watching a 

Game of Chess

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On the art of Mirrors

 " And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?                  
  And how should I presume?


  And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
  And should I then presume?
  And how should I begin?"

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock - T.S ELIOT

Pencil on paper. GIMP

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"His being is a lack of being, but this lack has a way of being which is precisely existence. Man makes himself a lack, but he can deny the lack as lack and affirm himself as a positive existence.
 He then assumes the failure. And the condemned action, insofar as it is an effort to be, finds it validity insofar as it is a manifestation of existence. "

The ethics of ambiguity - DE BEAUVOIR

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Memoryhouse by max richter"

Nightly lines

That we threaded - through fur, hide and flesh.

*

“Did you hear that, bear?” Said
Monkey, “we’ll get out of here, fair and square
They’ve left the gate open wide!

“So, my bride.

“Here is my hand. Where is your paw?
Try and understand my plan, ursala.
My heart is a furnace
Full of love that is just, and earnest ...

 

Pencil on paper. <3

Now.
We know that we must unlearn this
Allegiance to a life of service,
And no longer answer to that heartless
Hay-monger, nor be his accomplice
(That charlatan, with artless hustling!)
But ursala, we’ve got to eat something,
And earn our keep, while still within
The borders of the land that man has girded,
(All double-bolted and tightfisted!),
Until we reach the open country,
A-steeped in milk and honey.
Will you keep your fancy clothes on, for me?
Can you bear a little longer to wear that leash?

“My love, i swear by the air i breathe:
Sooner or later, you’ll bare your teeth."

JOANNA NEWSOM - MONKEY AND BEAR

 

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Slow sunday

And Virginia's cat continues filching fish in the corner of our eyes... so we watch and count the spines - see where the tail drops; It leaves an oily mark, as the clouds passing rivet the shadows like rivers across our faces. Our stained hands are heavy, for there is nothing on which to hold a firm grip, long dissolved is the comfort in which we were warmly held.

Pencil on paper

"There is the puddle,' said Rhoda, "and I cannot cross it. I hear the rush of the great grindstone within an inch of my head. Its wind roars in my face. All palpable forms of life have failed me. Unless I can stretch and touch something hard, I shall be blown down the eternal corridors for ever. What, then, can I touch? What brick, what stone? and so draw myself across the enormous gulf into my body safely?"

VIRGINIA WOOLF - THE WAVES

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Síndrome siberiano

"MEOW"

Pen on paper. GIMP

 "- Hajime -dijo- cuando te miro mientras conduces me dan ganas de alargar la mano y dar un volantazo. Si lo hiciera, moriríamos, ¿verdad?

- Seguro. Vamos a ciento treinta kilometros por hora. (...)

-No te preocupes. No lo haré - dijo- Sólo que a mí se me ocurren estas cosas. A veces. "

MURAKAMI, HARUKI. Al sur de la frontera, Al oeste del sol.

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F.S.Blumm & Nils Frahm - Heber by sonic pieces

Button up those bones

"They made love through the hole in the wall. The three lovers pressed against one another, but never fully touched. The Kolker kissed the wall, and Brod kissed the wall, but the selfish wall never kissed either back. The Kolker pressed his palms against the wall, and Brod, who turned her back to the wall to accommodate love, pressed the backs of her thighs against the wall, but the wall remained indifferent, never acknowledging what they were trying so hard to do." 

FOER, JONATHAN SAFRAN - Everything Is Illuminated

Ara Lucrecia Dalt by Iso.belle

Pen on paper

All simmering away, our boiled shreds dance to the broths bubbling. 

Somewhere, the vapor is lifting in threads from the skeleton's frozen hair.

Clinking of fossils, chiseled embeds of the things we never said. 


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Let My Key Be C (Thriller Edit) by Fluid Radio