DISBANDED IN CITY MAELSTROMS


The city never sleeps, and urbanity regularly changes its great disguise so the city’s shape of today can never be the impression of yesterday. And tomorrow, when you start seeking a special already wellknown matter, then quite often you will easily be invited by an unforeseen subject which you had never expected there. Hence such temporary views are only prefactical still lifes of already past times because hide and seek reflects not alone a children’s game, while it accompanies us like a protective good spirit through our entire life. This pleasant game always guides us unpredictable but safely around the next street corner and through the final urban hubris.

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THE BRIGHTNESS OF MIDNIGHT

midnightshineHere, the blue winter moon has just touched the forgotten place of the legendary moving rocks which loaf through these lonely landscapes since unknown times. A layer of translucent lightnings and radiance covers immediately all trees and each lost wanderer in the shadow of spooky moonbeams. So take care at midnight when you hear the owls howling seemingly from everywhere such converting harmless forests finally into ghosty realms, because a mysterious place like this is never very far away.

 

 

SITUATIONISTIC MARKINGS

As the twelve nights of the wild hunt have meanwhile nearly passed by, and for the beginning of the new Year time has come to have a look on some other and new subjects. So here on top you can observe my scanned personal right foot-signature with typical claw toes like those of a wild brown bear. One of the toes seems to be obviously missing but the picture comprises just a further coloured illusion in this regard – a situationistic puzzle.

eintrittskartenspuren1988bBut are you somehow aware of the general mantrap that in every second we are leaving here and there unnoticed and unseen trails at each paced location of our lives? In hurry and movement we simply forget these small gifts to our environment while you can discover them anywhere. And now these left symbols of modern civilization also smirk digitally right here in order to bewilder secret service web searching systems. What does all this possibly mean?

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This old xerox-copy from the 90s of the last century here could represent a wire fence used for protection of the next nuclear power plant site, but in fact it just shows a soft mesh for the packing of sweet oranges. How nice and delicate such a found rubbish aesthetics can in fact sometimes be.

 

 

 

 

 

GETTING LOST IN MODERN SWAMPS

Is this really the rotten one-way road to the final Battle of Aleppo as predicted by the famous visionary Nostradamus? The burst bitumen crust opens the horizon to a presumably never ending no-man’s-land where dark water is flooding everywhere over pavements and former roads while emphatic barricades turn out to be the only guiding signs leading through this Levantine forbidden zone. Some idiotic good-for-nothing fighters must have bombed and destroyed the gigantic Tabqua dam subsequently depleting the inexhaustible water storage reservoir of Lake Assad into this new endless stretching marshy swampland. Here and there you can intensely observe ludicrous ruins and industrial facilities slowly sinking in greedy dark ponds – the latest ecological niche. Bloody water suddenly sucks in my highly stressed body like a maelstrom, thus I have to make up my mind so as to escape ultimately this wargame-zeitgeist. Eons later I will eventually reach exhausted but just in time the untold concrete-island of hope and its graceful bastion of dreamy virtual promises.

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SO JUST HALVE THAT ORANGE PLANT

“It’s no accident that we continually refer to ourselves as individuals: the term comes from the Latin ‘in’ (which here means not) and ‘dividuus’ (divisible). Our body really is indivisible: if we’re cut in half, the two halves can’t live separately; they die. But if we cut a plant in half, the two parts can still live independently, for the simple reason that a plant isn’t an individual. In fact, the right way to think about a tree, a cactus, or a shrub is not to compare it to a human being or any other animal, but to picture it as a colony. A tree is much more like a colony of bees or ants than an individual animal.”

from: Brilliant Green, Stefano Mancuso / Allesandro Viola, 2015, p. 36

 

linked to   Cee Neuner’s Flower of the Day – Orange

DANCE OF THE STONES

It is rumored that a real excessive wedding party took place here once, and lots of wine seduced the wedding guests to dissolute abuses. So people started even to bowl with breads and sausages, and then a ghost – in shape of a very old man – appeared who requested the attendants to stop this sacrilege immediately. When nobody followed this clear advice the ghost transformed all guests of the wedding dancing into basaltic columns immediately.

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A shepherd just being nearby with his animals was asked by the ghost not to turn or look back when leaving the place. But the shepherd thought to be very tricky when looking back through his legs, so he was transformed into an iron sculpture.  Now he is standing on one of these columns always dreaming of his last dance.

THE ETERNAL INFLATION

A great tornado knocks again at the unscrupulous door of our weird civilization after the great drought. This unstoppable ice-melting inflation points rigorously on the deep and fleshy abyss where the maniac xolotl-dogs are leading the whistling chorus of the first days. So when afterwards the final tsunami approaches billions of phantoms will scream once more the old imperialistic yelling of perpetual national growth because the vicious dogs had already ingraved their crucial signs of no-exit into the tarred and feathered walls. The quite unstable planet earth rumbles like a hard-cooked crushing egg while the tornados strictly bend the dark forests on the unknown islands of the glowing red iron ocean where everything had begun during the era of restless vacuum-fires.

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But this sudden drift awaked very mighty immortal enemies of the past: the steel-viper, the packice-bull, the plastic-dragon and the dump-lion.  Their unthinkable weapons spare nobody, because these arms were once digged up from the huge dark energy fields and afterwards steeled by the latest gamma lightning. Some brave cosmonauts could already escape to the stellar constellation of the swan where they then had to sleep during endless nights in the crash-landed space craft wreck before simultaneously constructing the huge wheelworks of life reminding the following to always seek the magic circulating maelstrom where the cliffs of our cosmos gaze into the labyrinths of spacetime not far away in the next multiverse hidden in every moment.