between arts

2009-04-30T09:36:00.011+01:00

Here I am. And by being here, by accepting the sublimity of my name, hate I have not, or feel it.
Not even guilt. Neither mine nor yours – you hunters.

Materia prima I blame. She, the source and fault, also the truth.

Without matter, no weapons would exist.

Could the cowboy be a cowboy without his gun? And you rapist, how do you kidnap an ethereal non-form? How do we contain souls?

Without matter, no words but thoughts.

My friend elephant, how can you completely embrace the perfume of your tree?
How can I define your Élégance?

Here I am, with you, in the high level of our (non-)existence.
Watching those gambling with heavy shapes, which are not.

Let me play with them, using my illusion to build the reality of their wrongness.

Give me one of your seeds.
By deforming it, I will give it the form of a tiny little inexistence being, made with immaterial feelings.

I have called it virus.

2009-03-22T13:37:00.011Z

A reporter from THE UPPER CHRONICLES wrote in one of his articles this morning:

"...after a tragic shooting in a german school last week and another illegal hunt in the Central African Republic of Chad these days, the new born and innocent angels have been welcomed with open hands...

... Like usual the newcomers are located on a white pure cloud where both, a pair of human and animal, can take care of their survivors and philosophise about the mechanism of life...

...and on cloud no. 86²³ we welcome The Girl called Love and The Elephant.

May their loss make humans a little wiser."

2009-03-04T21:14:00.009Z

while i try to gather my thoughts in a less unquiet place than my head, i behold your desert
LOnely and fresh.

and it seems that i haVE found one of your trees
and like my eclipse, like my doubts, so as this tree became a flashing single row with no colour or shape but flavour
but hope.

a tremendous sweet AND bitter taste invaded my mouth.

THE bitter did not came from the forgotten places tattooed in the elephant's trunk
that he used to plant the tree.
maybe old memories in between us
or maybe it came from the unknown movement that took away the meaning of senses, my own ones, away from me, my only ones
and for so long.

the sweet came from her
again. ÉLÉgante as ever.

and them I asked your elephant where to find my shadow.

love, my friend. he said.
you can find it in a desert or in the city
even in an emPHAsized word.

but not in a no(n)sense.

love, my friend. he repeated
and I have plaNTed the next tree.

2009-02-12T18:19:00.012Z

2009-01-10T19:32:00.024Z

the light off
and at the corner of the room
a candle

the sweat burns, I observe your shaded hair, but why the raincoat? no, you are not, not yet. in the time of Hemere you will arrive.

there! with the sun finally lined up, yes! Hello! You cam____/. sorry, I thought that… ah! at the other side, the pavement, enlightened from north, hey! here! ar____/. the eyes, they have all stolen the flame in your eyes.

over there, there you are! I have got to run, wait, listen to me, it is you, all of you wait, It is her, no! the car, stop! the ca____/.

the light on
and at the corner of the room
still the candle

but it resembles You.