pattern

Works in rapid progression. Right now. And there … now. No sooner or later.

↓ ”Time Marks The Spots”, 540 x 600 mm, mixed media on paper.timemarksthespots

↓ ”Tall As Sin”,  mixed media on paper(bag).tallassin

↓ Untitled,  mixed media on paper.stretch

↓ Untitled,  mixed media on cardboard.chair

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Some more harvest

↓ ”Face” or “Border line”,  mixed media on paper.face-the-border

↓ Untitled,  mixed media on cardboard.circles-and-ladders

↓ ”Penta”,  mixed media on paper.pentacairoborder

↓ ”Step up”,  mixed media on paper.step-in-to-it

↓ ”Bond”,  mixed media on paper.bond

↓ work in progress, (600 x 800 mm), mixed media on MDF.a

↓ work in progress, (600 x 800 mm), mixed media on MDF.c

↓ work in progress, (600 x 800 mm), mixed media on MDF.b

Some harvest

↓ ”1 for 1” or “Fork by fork”, (? x ? mm + ? x ? mm), mixed media on cardboard.1for1_fork2fork

↓ “Blind anticipation”, (600 x 400 mm), mixed media on MDF.600x402

↓ Untitled work in progress, (332 x 494 mm), mixed media on paper.
332x494

Frankly and furthermore, here’s an estimation on the state of our collective being, disguised as an homage to hard sci-fi. Also: more progress to that other piece and some film festival posters.

↓ ”Rhett/Scarlett” or “Road to Extinction”, (430 x 270 mm + 245 x 340 mm), mixed media on cardboard.
Rhett&Scarlet
It started with a ladder, or rather with a vision of a ladder, or more precisely, depending of course on where in the process you believe associative lines of haphazardly firing axons can coalesce into ideas worthy of sticking to the inside of one’s skull, a fantasy of a DNA helix unfurling into a rigid ladder, left with one rail bent out of shape as if it’s rubber or maybe even warped by time, evidently proposing the question: what does that make our ladder; this symbol of progress, Jacobean ascension, abysmal descent, staggered regression, communication between higher and lower psyche, the connection between body and mind, self and ego? Well, here it made for an image worth exploring for a minute and before you knew it, and least of all my own consciousness knowing of it, these roaming hands of mine drew in a few overlapping circles,  suggesting them to be planetary objects held in place by universal gravitational forces and/or ink on a nebulous space of paint splattered, discarded pieces of cheap cardboard (one from a not so innovatively designed packaging holding a somewhat sophisticated designer toaster, the other intended to be a short-lived partition or filler between fragile and empty glass bottles) making me go “hm” and “oh” to a point where I liked where we were going, me and my brain, together pushing more towards an interpretational regimen as opposed to just spilling our babbling beans, thinking “here’s a possible commentary, exploration on the themes of never-ending growth, the incessant urge to reach yet a final frontier never thinking about the bill somebody has to pay at some point”, and a little more meditating on the subject led to the oh so obvious addition of a domino piece, the pips counting three and two, the most sexy and sacred ciphers this side of the galaxy, indicating that behind all this there’s a conduct or code, a cultural key to that particular part of human behaviour. To round out and up that end of the game, there was no other way than to add an obscured text, a secret message (uh!) by the help of a book cipher and since I was already thinking about Arthur’s and Stanley’s thoughts about the same, I used that particular good book to quote a totally different movie classic to word my conclusion to this investigation. To help you just a bit I give you the paragraph you need here:

2001: A Space Odyssey (by Arthur C. Clarke, 1968)
Chapter 1 – The Road to Extinction:

The drought had lasted now for ten million years, and the reign of the terrible lizards had long since ended. Here on the Equator, in the continent which would one day be known as Africa, the battle for existence had reached a new climax of ferocity, and the victor was not yet in sight. In this barren and desiccated land, only the small or the swift or the fierce could flourish, or even hope to survive.

↓ Untitled work in progress, (600 x 400 mm), mixed media on MDF.
600x402
It’s a sprocket. Makes a machine work, like. Somehow it still ended up looking like a flower. Now, we dance.

↓ My contestants in the 2015 Chicago Film Festival Poster Competition, (50 x 70 inches), digital layouts
flagpostermovieloveheartC51CAGO
… and here’s the winner. Congrats!
The_winner

“Stamen/Anther” is done. So is “Fallopia/Piston Postcards” and maybe that ends the flower paintings. In progress you find a board with a border inspired by Ottoman illumination

↓ ”Stamen/Anther” or “Coming”, (595 x 460 mm), mixed media on MDF.595x460_Stamen
The stamen is the “male” reproductive organ you commonly find in the middle of a flower surrounding the “female” part: the stigma. At the end of the stamen you find an anther. That is where pollen is produced and eventually discharged from. If you are a flower you want to spread that stuff in order to procreate. To that purpose many flowers use the help of bees and other insects. Doesn’t get any sexier, amirite?

↓ “Fallopia/Piston Postcards” or “Longing”, (125 ≈ 127 x 190≈ 245 mm), mixed media on cardboard.
postcards
The second piece from the top actually travelled the atlantic by mail twice before this piece was complete. A Fallopia is a vine many consider an invasive weed. It has an unrelenting urge to cover all and everything with itself. A piston serves only one purpose: to compress, to be driven, to drive and to never ever stop. Unless you run out of juices to combust. Then you need to take a nap.

↓ Untitled work in progress, (600 x 400 mm), mixed media on MDF.600x402
Ottoman illuminations surround words of scripture or the like. The Ottoman empire is now Turkey. Turkey borders Syria. Syria has effectively ceased to be a healthy society. Nothing holy going on in there.

A new duo of scavenged cardboards. A new set of fragmented patterns. Old sacred geometry? Sure …

↓ Untitled (so far), 365 x 350 mm, mixed media on cardboard

duocardboards

Postulation? All signs made on cardboard are a social commentary of one kind or another.

Except maybe the ones printed there en masse you might think, but then: not really. It does not matter whether you are picketing a behaviour incompatible with your own, asking for a free ride in a particular direction or soliciting financial compensation for your misfortune. Those are just the actions behind the sign. The sign itself is what you see first: a statement, a bulletin, an intention spelled out as clearly (or misguided) as the designer is intellectually capable of. Find them on the streets, discarded after use or ready at hand, more than often frayed with the incapability to change much if anything. But still and always addressing someones need or willingness to engage in some kind of social contract, to buy, to sell or whatnot and thereby issuing that postulated commentary. Is that reason enough for yours truly to apply artfulness on them? That is as legit a question as anyone and there’s this: as of 2011, fifteen percent (1.000.000.000) of this planets human inhabitants still see to their bodily needs in the open.

↓ Title(s): “En Suite: the right turn, our collective values, their shared advantages and the sound of freedom” (365 x 485 mm, mixed media on cardboard, work in perpetual progress)

ensuiteA

The right turn:
“I am the light!” she yelled and blew her whistle.

ensuiteB

Our collective values:
… that night he kept walking by our windows,
screaming his frustration at his phone: “… but I love you, asshole!”

ensuiteC

Their shared advantages:
“Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities.” (C. Sandburg)

ensuiteD

The sound of freedom:
“The Uniform Plumbing Code, section 409.2.2 requires that all water closet seats, except those within dwelling units or for private use, shall be of the open front type.”

In progress: these are not cardboard signs and I do not work for food.

cardboard
I just work. To still that particular Hunger. Later I’ll cook. Mushroom risotto.