notes from friends’ real life (what’s that?) walls

comment 1
art & stuff / bekanntschaften / erlebt, ehrlich wahr / fakten am rande
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graff in a backstreet of the bauhaus, seen & cherished in august 2011.

an inspiring friend &  & old wise man to be, currently absorbed by the metaphysical  task to start an encyclopedia on emerging cultural techniques, orders, styles; the poetics of facebook  (besides having some decent academic stuff going on); so this gent shared a scribbling from a real-life-wall recently with me; some lines probably taped on a wall in a house where, i imagine, he spent a bunch of youth days, and i note with particular interest, that he did not post it on the ‘wall’ we are all using in the space people conventionally talk in, in the voyeuristic semi-privacy we learned to enjoy. therefore i hope he instantly forgives me for writing this note, in brief, as i could not resist sharing these lines. they touch. the  desire for “the place where fantasy and earthly things are metamorphosed into a work of arts” and “to lay down one’s life for others in need” are indeed fragments of a “goal in life”. “i think”, the author ends her statement, on this wall from the past, which is perhaps gone already? this is how we live and imagine. sharing. i think.

The Author

kulturalista

1 Comment

  1. Hey Kate,what a fantastic way of re-presenting it!!!!The lines of the world and the frragmentary nature of the structure reminds me of two things: Lord Alfred Tennyson’s Locksley Hall and Locksley Hall Sixty Years After.secondly,The Beatyful Ones Are Not Yet Born by Ayi Kwei Armah.We are all in it—It is all mixed!! completely mixed” so screamed Maanan,the mad woman, as she allowed the grain of sand to course down her fingers. after being fucked up by politics, she sees better when she goes mad.Like Shakespeare’s Gloucester,she stumbled when she saw.Surprisingly,Blindness and madness provide a sharpness of sight and acuity of vision.For authors to see,they have to enter the blissful state of madness. i still cannot figure out how Lilian Smith crafted these words.To recognize the key values of humanity but still to place them within such a contingent and interstitial space of compromise/negotiation.In a way,life is a quetsion of bordering,an existence media res of hybridity. and then the disconnected “i think” at the end.combining conviction with reflexivity.

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