இன்னாபா பண்ருது இந்த பிகாசோவே ... நாஸ்தி பண்ணி வெச்சுகிராம்பா "மதர் அண்ட் சைல்டே"
“You got your fix” is how she reacted when I cut into her sentence, thought, interaction, focus, intension to tell me something about her plans of a short holiday. I was figuring out “the mystery of configurations that effect the beautiful” and selfishly cut into her engagement and got ready to leave. Highly unfriendly though all deep understandings have to make you into a soul that effuses great warmth that radiates compassion, affection and other congenital equivalents that define “comfort”. Remember each “life” grows in the mushy comfort of the womb. It is the mushy comfort of the womb that dictates everything : happiness, purpose-of-life, existential-angst. The perpetual edge of the artist who is listlessly searching all his life, only to end in the same rubbish : the podium of winners which s/he was so defiant about all her/his life.
Does it mean anything to that little kitten refusing to grow up fast; all my ideas of greatness, social standing, recognition = not on the basis of the media but the intrinsic worth of my arty-concoctions that will Amaze every piece of soul out there wandering in the wildernesses of “TIME”? ……… ART ….pure art, great music, great movies, great paintings, sculptures and other imaginable human renditions against time, against the tragic truth of death in front of life!!! Will it plug the void? Will it plug the valiant but useless echoing-s of rhetoric. Art is rhetoric of LIFE against death, to death and other possible prepositions before the word death that will come closer, describing this brave cockatoo-tenderness?
If I can handle “the idea of death” I will stop art; for I am not so bothered about you recognizing ……. Fullstop.
It is my destiny that I have to make installations.
This has become a word installation.
My mom opens my cell’s door and asks, “what raju? You have put the milk on the burner? Go see inside the kitchen”
At 5.10 the pot has become black, there is so much smoke inside the kitchen and thank god my-their house isn’t burnt down…. Insha allah !!!!!!!!!
Good way to wake up on SHOW-DAY
WITH an installation
With disaster averted by “THE MOTHER”
AND REINFORCING MY PLEBIAN-FEMINISM.
IMPORTANT WORDS:
!)Remember each “life” grows in the mushy comfort of the womb. It is the mushy comfort of the womb that dictates everything : happiness, purpose-of-life, existential-angst.
2)Art is rhetoric of LIFE against death, to death and other possible prepositions before the word death that will come closer, describing this brave cockatoo-tenderness?
AND THUS A WORD-INSTALLATION GOT MADE….
[idea for the next show!!! Book a gallery… print out all renderings of mine, gum up one end and stick it at readable height. Some small stools can also be made available like in libraries, to browse at ankle height]
It will take a day or few days for the burnt smell to vanish… think it has pasted itself on the walls. Aha a new thing for me : smell pasting itself on the wall…..if I can paste different smells as part of my show on the walls, it will simultaneously become “a smell installation” tooooo.
{U can also see a male process of belittling women’s PART in life in this writeup. 9months of emotion-rendition, sense-rendition that the womb does…… never gets any value and is just seen as a baby making machine, like the unpaid labor of all mothers who are food machines that move into the graveyards of OBLIVION
இன்னாபா பண்ருது இந்த பிகாசோவே ... நாஸ்தி பண்ணி வெச்சுகிராம்பா "மதர் அண்ட் சைல்டே" “You got your fix” is how she reacted when I cut into her sentence, thought, interaction, focus, intension to tell me something about her plans of a short holiday. I was figuring out “the mystery of configurations that effect the beautiful” and selfishly cut into her engagement and got ready to leave. Highly unfriendly though all deep understandings have to make you into a soul that effuses great warmth that radiates compassion, affection and other congenital equivalents that define “comfort”. Remember each “life” grows in the mushy comfort of the womb. It is the mushy comfort of the womb that dictates everything : happiness, purpose-of-life, existential-angst. The perpetual edge of the artist who is listlessly searching all his life, only to end in the same rubbish : the podium of winners which s/he was so defiant about all her/his life.
Does it mean anything to that little kitten refusing to grow up fast; all my ideas of greatness, social standing, recognition = not on the basis of the media but the intrinsic worth of my arty-concoctions that will Amaze every piece of soul out there wandering in the wildernesses of “TIME”? ……… ART ….pure art, great music, great movies, great paintings, sculptures and other imaginable human renditions against time, against the tragic truth of death in front of life!!! Will it plug the void? Will it plug the valiant but useless echoing-s of rhetoric. Art is rhetoric of LIFE against death, to death and other possible prepositions before the word death that will come closer, describing this brave cockatoo-tenderness?
If I can handle “the idea of death” I will stop art; for I am not so bothered about you recognizing ……. Fullstop.
It is my destiny that I have to make installations.
This has become a word installation.
My mom opens my cell’s door and asks, “what raju? You have put the milk on the burner? Go see inside the kitchen”
At 5.10 the pot has become black, there is so much smoke inside the kitchen and thank god my-their house isn’t burnt down…. Insha allah !!!!!!!!!
Good way to wake up on SHOW-DAY
WITH an installation
With disaster averted by “THE MOTHER”
AND REINFORCING MY PLEBIAN-FEMINISM.
IMPORTANT WORDS:
!)Remember each “life” grows in the mushy comfort of the womb. It is the mushy comfort of the womb that dictates everything : happiness, purpose-of-life, existential-angst.
2)Art is rhetoric of LIFE against death, to death and other possible prepositions before the word death that will come closer, describing this brave cockatoo-tenderness?
AND THUS A WORD-INSTALLATION GOT MADE….
[idea for the next show!!! Book a gallery… print out all renderings of mine, gum up one end and stick it at readable height. Some small stools can also be made available like in libraries, to browse at ankle height]
It will take a day or few days for the burnt smell to vanish… think it has pasted itself on the walls. Aha a new thing for me : smell pasting itself on the wall…..if I can paste different smells as part of my show on the walls, it will simultaneously become “a smell installation” tooooo.
{U can also see a male process of belittling women’s PART in life in this writeup. 9months of emotion-rendition, sense-rendition that the womb does…… never gets any value and is just seen as a baby making machine, like the unpaid labor of all mothers who are food machines that move into the graveyards of OBLIVION
