little wiz-
dominion
notes on paintings spring21
IT HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING
ROMANTISTIC 2021-?
—
i like everything at a level below it’s name
Isn’t it iconic?
X listening is a precondition of seeing
expressive poetics and history of changing semiotics
X visuality is experiential
for what economy tho
– the emotional household (economy: household)
X trauma dub
– for vibe-aesthetic fashion
X
this concept knows not its own form, and can only be obtained through emoting and harnessing signs
let go – a star has shined on you
subtext shine, letting everything and anything bleed through,
except for the superficial;
the baby sees fireworks.
turn giddy
… those that are giddy think the world turns round
I don’t feel the rain, iz late night, I’m restless, my daughter sleeps on the bed. I go outside and cry at it; I can’t feel it, but I can hear it. all over the city.
fireworks sounds stab mine heart like
let’s trust the work knows something neither you or I can
if not why then do it
it starts off with a conflict that can only be solved thru further meaning building, adding. negation is out. irony is out. meaning building machinery goes like etymology/language/semiotics/figure/line in action, what action, what directions, and then, which setting, how to feel it so the line shakes on the presence
to see what it can contain… of sensual output …
secrets – undecryptable knowledge – emotion – something only the painting knows
what affects it can produce through it’s window
/ this room is sealed off from random ornamental art criticism
which possibly renders it pop music /
isn’t it iconic, don’t you think?
i never thought i’d learn this simple thing
but i think those simple pop iconics can transcend more radical knowledge than anything else
I struggle with this popness I struggled with feeling archaic till this will came along, desire said: you can’t learn you can only know
… after so many hours slitting wrists and waiting…. I’m here
this megalomania
and wish for teamness is not new ,
all my loves are in these paintings
and the paintings speak to us on good days
vivian girls 2021
Ssearch and Coincidence
proximity and distance
the room / the economy
you can come home and lie in the bed of the lawyer
but u shine for the youngster walking pass the window
poised, turning her spine, to see
x
Opera means work
Sowers seeding
stealthismusic
Ode to inner voices
the forehead is cracked…. this sky is ageless…. farming is radical shape shifting….. devastating ….. this flag is the best. gold, weeds, blood. what more is there. well there is gold and tantalum , coal ………………… deop orogenic drip ,,, field drip (oros: mountain, genesis: creation)venerable soil belts,
antiquity sky turned edenic naming…… one antique waits for the next ⁃ ⁃ each one guillotines the other. weed field turn’t graveyard. the sky cracks and covers the sun-up. sky flagged as false another archaic cover-up iz gothic and hopeful and glazed like a layer cake. after they dead they buried in the field and so the weed is harvested and smoked by loved ones xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx sky and cannabis field above orogenisic gold , tantalum, coal , diamonds and sapphire , opal rabbit skin glue, carbon black, reds, greens, yellows, marble flour, ink, oil, watercolour for the sunset. laquer and gold pigment on canvas. 500g of carbon black leftover. the forehead is cracked; this sky is ageless farming is radical deep shape-shifting
this flag is the best. stands for gold, nature, blood. what more is there. well there is gold and tantalum the earth is covered in jewellery , stuff , and she carries the chaos good. she slips in a little horror . she wants to live. sky and cannabis field above orogenisic gold , tantalum, coal , diamonds and sapphire . ethical opal fingerring. antique loop: one antiquity modulates into another forever . we’re kids . we don’t have memory . blood for red , gold for gold, say green for green and you already know: the hope that imaginative, focused knowledge isn’t dead
but happily buried poking up an arm thru the ground like: “i’m here. this is a pretext. it prevents me from dying” and somebody will see
the ageless sky looks down on stripes and crosses of gated market farming, cultivation makes these flags marks blow. marble blue smog covers up the sunset. flag field, weed field, graveyard, decay, glaze , smog, mass, saturation in the colours,
not asking for too much time , saying what needs to be said , all’s antique loop and earth is bejewelled, we’re kids and we haven’t learned
but beauty can potentially transcend any design. at least, that’s what I say to myself
deep orogenic field drip I: OLD NEW DOMINION
after they dead they buried in the field and so the weed is harvested and smoked by loved ones. the earth is covered in jewelry , stuff , and she carries the chaos good. she slips in a little horror
she wants to live
I love you so much I will smoke you when u dead
take you some new infection to your eye n the rank poison of the old will die
y think all six motives are endlessly repeatable.
finally after seven years y have SIX motives.
the underground. the dying. the ecstacy of the in-between and the dare.
the horizontal landscape. the godlikes (working) OPERA MEANS WORK
vivian girls: for my feisty fighting no-fucks girlfriends , alive and dead
you very rare and so dear to me
but we feel
starcrossed, starcrossed, starcrossed, starcrossed, starcrossed, starcrossed
you come to me at home, and I can’t have you there. you trashed my bathroom.
I’m so scared. trying to convince you to leave. I close the bedroom door. go away.
I can’t have your old shit here. I can’t have your anger and your hate here.
the day after a friend suggested I make a little temple. I can’t give you that cell.
i miss you so much
but you make me Lucky everyday
then you came to me through the speaker shuffle in the studio like
Where were you when the stars went out?
Where were you when they started to shout?
I saw you alone by the pool,
And all your friends called you a fool.
And you were so beautiful, you were so very special, I wish I was with you now, I wish I could save you somehow.
Where were all your friends that night
As you switched off the final light?
I saw your body in the water
Like a lamb going to the slaughter
And where were all of your laughing friends?
Where were they at the very end? They started to steal your glory
They never even told your story
***(psychic tv – god star)
Two ladies smokes pibe till death stares em in the eye
They read Cocteau
or are at the opera
while a coffin lid closes on em
in their hospital bed
and a lazy rainbow appears in the distance
you’re underground doing harmolodics while i feel i use our hands up here or look down at you like at the opera
the coffin closes on you, cute icon grows grows between our chests
Seeding
the two big figures stand godlike and poses like orlandos
one has m and k on the mouth,
they all dirty from the field work
I hope you see they really big
a friend said they seem to be dissatisfied with being on the canvas, sad even.
I told him when u got a duty like a god u can be dissatisfied all you want
but the prize is you keep the whole material spinning, you the eternal opera
eurydice might not like being stuck in her canvas looking back, looking back
but, as I said to him, isa mirror – pathetic as it is. he didn’t see they are making life, and at the top of their heads seeds too fall and shape ‘em from the natural invisible hand
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Up the rocky ground spring a finger ring, all saturnine, singing:
I dreamt of old copenhagen that’s what we called it; speechless, thoughtless, witnessing the swirling hurricane of burning gold and lightening of ashes and sand and rock pull up closer, melting the window in front of me, slashing on the old town and the rest. I melt, I’m no body then just pure vision: as the wind gets lighter; the gold falls like cigarette ashes and slowly burns away the color of these fields of flags
till only gold’s left
ginormous ethical oval blue fingerring growing from/drowning in rose gold landscape covering burning field stripes
top / sky regular yellow gold covers a tornado of burning gold that falls like ashes on ground waving in the wind.. details in bronze.. X’es, crosses appear. meanwhile, two transparent princess X’es stomp around with their damn flags making a mess
the earth is a coin flipping so fast it looks like a ball. i dig flat-earthers.
I hope the power switches off.
the right ones won’t know what to do with dark nights
Buy A Stara bluetiful
Legend City
High-rise
blue is just a scattering of light
engagement and detachment
. attraction and revulsion
the marble flour does it so the sky will crack infinitely
Will-Star Thief stealthismusic
Seeder, Seeding
conspire breath together now work big now
these things I know:
seeding, sowing, making life is a good spring
cultivation somehow ended up with the role of the devastation
— when some wiz dom was lost, unheard, unvisioned
seeds mean keys, opera means work
irony is out
knowledge somehow ended up resembling data
… they exceeded themselves to seeders of ungraspable data ….
instead of knowledge that can’t be known but can be used.
i guess that’s the definition of wisdom …
“how does this work?”
there’s truth in the arch-pictograms.
the star, the rainbow, the grave or gravestone, memory
the rainbow resembles the scattering of light on a rainy day
makes a saturnine O that sings
the fingerring is too a thing of devastation of some soil
orogenesis is a devastation in itself, power on, power up, real power
the question has become
if it constructs or destroys, and what . powerful economy.
and by tradition, the fingerring acts celebration.
the roman coin erected like a princess X
spelling non plus ultra
can too be spelled on a note sheet, inviting one to play in full excess, vision-mode
cause letting go induces that drama, – truthings
we’re getting so good at transparency everything is potentially just a ghost
yelling WITCH on the street. I looked back. no-one was there.
… decay …. iz all still the same ……
the story of flag-lines resembles the core of the main symbolism
of some power or powerless translated thru dye
the story of white stars on flags is almost impossible to pin down;
starlink premonition. ..
first, they devestated the earth, then the sky, mapping the stars was the original
way for them to grid the earth, sail the seas, trade, fuck, kill, set up shops
i hope the power switches off
do you know what to do with dark nights?
(vivian: alive)
henry darger’s vivian girls are at war with those mappers, and at night while floating, dreaming or drowning in the water, the stars on the sky bows in that mean circle – but are mirrored perfect – rendered explosive – alive – in the night light water
a storm comes to the old town, a tornado of burning gold moves up closer – the making of a very ancient godlike
they all melt, ecstatic; when it’s all over, everything’s equally bejewelled at last
earth is the bejewelled planet and somehow she carries it beautifully
thx to hydration and orogenesis
….. and us, the little monsters that just adores stuff so much ……
5000 years later, some other intelligent animal picks the sapphire from a skull and crushes it to powder with an intelligent tool; the skull gets no reception or exhibit, it’s just human, worthless to her, – it’s just material, like all the other millions they found below the gold, and she makes a glue from the powder
You say I am loca because I am your girl
You say I am stupid because I am your girl. You leave me out on the steps, you dress me up like a boy
You say that I am your secret love
You say to be quiet but I want to tell the whole world
I like my neighbourhood I like my gun
Drive in my little car:
I’m your girl and I’ll protect you
We do it in the back of my little car
Pull up my pants and fix my bra go on home to your kids
I’m going to be quiet and I’m going to tell the whole block
sad pony guerilla girl – xiu xiu
Will somebody own these walls I worked with , so they can survive test of time?
canvas fits too well in the trash – horrible. bronze or rock art can and loves to live and survive. this is closer to music = somebody will have to help it persevere
through sensation , meaning and simply a roof over it’s head
I thought the painting’s dead, but it ultimately it’s very close to a living body.
preserving is what we need not forget in our anti-historical fashions.
I will fight for the wiz dom keys that gave me life. the cd, the drawing, the tag, the real stuff that heavies me and makes me grind.
earth loves her jewellery tho iz a heavy load
. . . . . . . . .
welcome to the small world cardgame
played by the outsider longing for something else,
preserved by the pirate like tarot
the coin king investing, and the faceless staring in through the window . . . . . .
does iconographies always have a specific audience
– an absurd and faithful passion being part of it –
she said my music and my pictures are the same, but they are merely connected thru being somehow same transforming emotion through form giving and composition. presence.
and possible to read thru language xx
but the prophetic mirror usually renders words unnecessary …..
Styling emotions
sky is endless and antiquarian
earth not dead yet
stars are explosions rendered to it’s simplest form
rainbows are hope
spikes are protection
seeds are encryption keys
stilettos are knives
arms are cut to count the days
all these girls are vivian girls
hot on cell : crime of the dreamer to want it all to herself
trade
mystery: trade
skeletons and skulls is the ultimate way to paint something human
no muscle no skin no consciousness or conscience – no shit
im tired of humanist bullshit dividing
the human race has other motifs
like wisdom can only be obtained thru experience
Singer
this is what my general psychosis felt like in my teens , this is the first of the six paintings
it was naked for year or so
only her face and his and the winged stiletto and the chairs and trees hung out –
till in the end she was crowded by em
and at last she got a head-mic and a dress, and so it was a staging
skeletons and skulls is the ultimate way to paint something human
no muscle no skin no consciousness or conscience – no shit
i hate the new hysterical humanist bullshit dividing, notice yall claim to h8 what the nazis too hated:
something that’s different, divergent, omniscientific, omniloving, pansexual, unboxable, unknowable, unownable switches
careful now baby u still got good time
try to see the good in this painting
looking for moral intent is worthless in the vitalized reading
the human race has other motifs
like wisdom can only be obtained thru experience and what you teach you learn
memory play
feat
dead voices
embracing darkness is listening,
hearing is a precondition of seeing
cherry flavored medicine: historical materialism means: follow the money
…. antique again ….
the true modern makes the old new .
not all flags are bad i love a black flag flag for state of soul
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
the way you begin will often determine where u end up
to be is to be descendant
the antiquity began with the loss of a prior antiquity
Antique ol fashion anti-like
ancient ol school archaic
semiotic! semiotic!
• Seeding (Opera means Work)
Orogenic gold drip
• one antique takes over the other
…all the rest of us wrapped in the soft mesh of the grey blue morning air …
• Dreamers dying
• Audience Smoking,
• starless and bible black
• You alone can hear the starfall
Overshoot day . Vivian Girl •
omg… eurodyce… starlink train heraldry… Classics
william blake says a prophecy is an accurate description of what’s going down
not of what will
painting tattoos
dominion
ace of swords
queen of swords
ten of swords
victory
completion
wisdom > reality
market farm dominion puzzle
listen, after they dead they buried in the field and so the weed is harvested and smoked by loved ones
All plays shall contain the word Listen at least once
I LIVE FOR PLAYS. I LIVE FOR WORD THAT RENDERS ANYTHING AWAKE WHEN WRITTEN, SPOKEN AND READ.
HOW ELSE CAN I SAY IT
I could conceptualise over anything
i sing to daisy:
i talk to the wind
my words are all carried away but the wind cannot hear
I’m on the outside looking inside
what do I see?
⁃ much confusion
disillusion
all around me
you don’t possess me don’t impress me just stop at my mind
can’t construct me or conduct me
just use up my time
that’s how we feel baby
me and ville were talking in the kitchen
mira said I’m always afraid things aren’t real, that it’s not for real, but listening to your conversation made me feel it’s real
at the psychiatric dep.
I’m now in , don’t know if I can call it a getting my treatment since it feels like I’m in a fucking sitcom, or playing some game written by a politician
she asks me is it ok she locks the door
well yeah whatever I say
I could stay in here forever
you see me vampin mama
no I feel comfortable enough
but you won’t cure anything by debunking possible fear
I’m mostly driven by fear doctor
I have to say to myself though I’m doubting whatever comes out these hands – that I know what’s right and I’ve been a prisoner of someone else’s desire for a little too long
y can’t desire desire
of course I could run
so prison it isn’t
staying in a locked room
a bad thing can be very strategic and smart
fuck good intentions
though the voices of my gods got very far away
– no I was smart – now I’m somewhere in between
I hear ‘em
I paint every day
It’s getting better – I tell her –
I feel something good building up
I’m doing what’s right
I’m chaotic right now
the psychiatrist says:
you’re very lively. very stressed out. very happy. are you seeing things?
you laugh when you should cry.
she says if I’m criminal
I explain to her nothing I do’s no crime
the only crime is to be superficial
– all that’s known is good
all’s parodic
she literally paints a picture:
a sad emoji with a few bars covering the face.
this is you, she says.
then she draws a big mouthed smiley face. she makes forty bars across the face; completely blocking the face.
she says; this is you if you start medication again – proudly.
no thanks.
I quit this shit. bye. thanks.
a good conversation must be enough to cure it
and some time alone
and painting
and music
next meeting:
I build a new cell.
I notice I get comfortable in all these psych rooms by making the rooms into bedrooms in my head
furnishing ‘em beautifully and saying to myself:
this is the last room I’ll ever enter, this is where I’ll read, sleep and die, somehow that wish feels so alive
rosa in her cell
looking at the birds
telling everybody
it’ll be ok
is this the dream of the true criminal?
no no
it’s the crime of the dreamer
to want to have it all to herself
so I walk out into the sun
hey uninformed uniform , we’re forced careless
checking out classics
recognising we rly just grown children , rly just pure from our hearts it goes
children forever
stuck in sum antique loop
..
Flag language
cross / crucifix / plus / stars / horizon / sun / stripes
.. -.- -. — .– . …- . .-. -.– – …. .. -. –.
on punctuation: switch flips by demand. demand can be taking responsibility, or it can be a surprise: you sit in bed, yr daughter sleeps next to y. a young boy runs fast towards y with a blue flame, brutally throwing it into yr chest, thereby handing y heart-arrest. the beat of a drum completely fucks yr mind. y try to say goodbye. all of a sudden y her the sound of yr daughters breath, and yr reminded of the mission. it all takes a second. y live. y build from the vision, cut across it in these wild glimpses of horror, grief, depression, psychosis, ecstasy, happiness, joy, calm, now sleep princess X what u love is what u give
xxxx
