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Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Springtime / Raise your hands up in the air

Past Present (Past Presence), 2011 - ink, acrylic on magazine
Past Present (Past Presence), 2010 - ink, acrylic on magazine


all drawings © Michiel Keuper



Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Juxtapositions VI / Ingres & Tumblr

Ingres - La Grande Odalisque, 1814, oil on canvas, 91x162cm, Musée du Louvre


via Tumblr, 2011


Monday, March 21, 2011

Under the Radar / music, art and ideas

























I'll be showing some of my paintings and works on paper during this one-evening event, this coming friday March 25 at RufReaktor in Berlin friedrichshain. For more info and location click here.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Juxtapositions V / Helen Frankenthaler & Saul Leiter

Helen Frankenthaler - Portrait of a Lady in White, 1979, acrylic on canvas, 209x123cm


Saul Leiter - Street Scene, 1959

Monday, March 14, 2011

Peter Orlovsky / Frist Poem

Peter Orlovsky - Venice, September 1957. Photo © Allen Ginsberg Estate


FRIST POEM
A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified. 
Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills 
    the air. 
I look for my shues under my bed. 
A fat colored woman becomes my mother. 
I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap. 
I grow a beard in one day. 
I drink a hole bottle of wine with my eyes shut. 
I draw on paper and I feel I am two again. I want everybody to 
    talk to me. 
I empty the garbage on the tabol. 
I invite thousands of bottles into my room, June bugs I call them. 
I use the typewritter as my pillow. 
A spoon becomes a fork before my eyes. 
Bums give all their money to me. 
All I need is a mirror for the rest of my life. 
My frist five years I lived in chicken coups with not enough 
    bacon. 
My mother showed her witch face in the night and told stories of 
    blue beards. 
My dreams lifted me right out of my bed. 
I dreamt I jumped into the nozzle of a gun to fight it out with a 
    bullet. 
I met Kafka and he jumped over a building to get away from me. 
My body turned into sugar, poured into tea I found the meaning 
    of life 
All I needed was ink to be a black boy. 
I walk on the street looking for eyes that will caress my face. 
I sang in the elevators believing I was going to heaven. 
I got off at the 86th floor, walked down the corridor looking for 
    fresh butts. 
My comes turns into a silver dollar on the bed. 
I look out the window and see nobody, I go down to the street, 
    look up at my window and see nobody. 
So I talk to the fire hydrant, asking "Do you have bigger tears 
    then I do?" 
Nobody around, I piss anywhere. 
My Gabriel horns, my Gabriel horns: unfold the cheerfulies, 
    my gay jubilation.

Peter Orlovsky, Nov. 24th, 1957, Paris


[from Clean Asshole Poems & Smiling Vegetable Songs, Pocket Poets Series #37, City Lights Books ©1978 by Peter Orlovsky.]




photo © LIFE
"
Peter Orlovsky was best known as Allen Ginsberg's lover and companion of almost three decades, from about the fifties to the seventies. What is less well known is that he was a wonderful poet in his own right. His work has appeared in numerous magazines and antholologies. Peter died May 30, 2010 at the age of 76. 
(...) Peter couldn't spell. Or, let's look at it another way. This is how Peter spelled. I'm assuming that most publishers of his work attempted to keep his own spellings intact. I believe Peter's spelling rendered his thoughts accurately. (...)"


Brian Nation on Peter Orlovsky / 



Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Colour by nature / The blue stork

Blue stork in Biegen, Brandenburg, spring 2010

The secret of the stork... nobody knew how or why... Wonder if he comes back as colourful this year...

Friday, March 04, 2011