Surreal Oil with Six Corners (work in progress).

Every field on the canvas with six corners will bring a surprise, for the artist as well as the observer. (Now it reminds me a little of an advent calendar, coming to think of it, but not necessarily with a relieving Christmas in the bottom. It has no bottom. It has six.) The bird-plus-whatever is still glittering with wet oil.

The central shape -- central deformation -- is an eye of sorts. It bears various fishy, hairy amoeba connotations... what do you think?

The only set idea for this painting is that every field, underpainted and now dry, should have its own theme, speaking for itself... in a language that I do not know, the language that 90 percent of our brains speak. I don't even know if the seven parts of the painting understand each other. Or if the different parts of the brain do -- if not, that would explain much...

"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."

- Mark Twain, Notebook, 1898

Green Chili Nonsense

This one I made mostly to tease my dear friends a little. My head was no good place to be (I've spent ages looking for another, for rent if not for sale) and I complained that I didn't want to go too autobiographical; I mostly draw inspiration from rubbish stored in my subconscious, but for a long while the rubbish had been a sour kind of rubbish and not the happy, sprightly rubbish that one might want.

Why don't you draw Green Chili?, one said.

And it was true; we had just been enjoying some Thai, and I had a Red Chili Stew with a few melodic syllables in the name; it was somewhat less flammable than the Green Chili that I had on the session before (and was duly teased for having anyway) and as a good little surrealist I now had to draw it. You may hint that I didn't concentrate very much on the spice in question. As usual, I am sure that among the arbitrarily functioning junctions of the synapses there's a perfect explanation why green hot chili peppers turn into this:

And here's the face; very serene, considering. Half the chap it used to be but perhaps we let go of a lot of pressure that way.

The Music Remains

This little study, I realized during the progress, is heavily inspired by The Music in Me, a digital painting by fellow surrealist Ruth Sinden (the work is heavily copyrighted by her).

This one I call The Music Remains:

Whether you write poetry, music or paint, the aching reason for doing so shall one day disappear, leaving art alone. So we have to make good art.

You may note that the guitar decorations around the hole (obviously called a rosette in English) are reflected in the garland. (You hint a little of the keys chorusing too.) The heart looks rather torn, but Music is on her mind.

(Ink and aqua on letter-size paper.)

Burning Giraffe and Hot Music -- Dalírium

This friendly (?) flaming giraffe is now on my happily madly dancing CD Dalírium -- melting watches I found a bit too cliché and overused -- but a dalíric giraffe would do.

Through this link you may hear the whole of The Happy Machine, Raindrops and Crush Collision for free.

You're also very welcome to...



...the result of many surreal hours of cutting, twisting and pasting the most odd little sounds, live and imaginary.

I still can't decide about the expression of the giraffe. In what mood do you think it is?

Smile!

Smiles are attractive, smiles sell. In order to mantain our perkiness in a world that doesn't necessarily perk, I've invented and consider patenting this Invention, yet without name. The schematic description would go as follows:

Eyelids and eyebrows are kept high and positive and friendly with Hooks (A). The occasional tears that still might escape are caught before they can do any harm with little Sponges (B) fixed in a suitable position. The great smile, last but not least, is maintained with small but strong little Nibs (C).

Smile!