ALS GÄBE ES KEIN MORGEN  / AS IF THERE'S NO TOMORROW  

_universe_

_still in process_

_universe_

_oil crayon & sticky tape_

_universe_

_oil crayon & plastic_

_someone needs help_

_sold_

_someone needs help_

_oil crayon & acryl_

_someone needs help_

_oil crayon & acryl_

_UNIVERSE_

 
No idea, where to find!

One of them lies so near anyway that one tickles on the body walls.

One robs the breath so,

that the lungs can be inflated from the outside unwillingly.

He seems too powerful because the pain.

  

_someone needs help_


How closed? How imprisoned? How does a body bends,

if it has to change. It condemn the viewer to a judge or even to an animal. A picture makes itself, so did the incomprehensible before itself becomes understandable.

Explicit for me it has a Kafa'eske styl. The little, helpless beetle who depends on thisrobot. A raised spirit. Whether it's good or bad, the beetle tries to crawl up onto the other body.

 

The soul of storytelling, is the error ...-N.R.-

_egg_

_finished_

_egg_

_acryl_

_egg_

_oil crayon & acryl_

_egg_
 

The view through a peephole.

For me it's a creep. In an endless sadness which tries outside there to hide the universe.

On the other hand I can see how something

is being born.

A new kind of human being who recognizes that the world is too cold and his knees clutching more tightly. But the world will cut more and more.

 

_reach me_

_sold_

_fear missing_

_watercolor_

_micro macro cosmos_

_watercolor_

_reach me_
 

 _reach me_, is three a series, which flee themselves around the topic to catch and turns. The hands, which look for liberty, as if would be them like prisoners in a course.

The Woman _fear missing_ wants to catch the painter, have herself for itself. Lascivious bewitch him. And then the _micro macro cosmos_ world, which saves a hope, despite dystopian effect.

A hope after a new world.more. 

 

_skin_

still in process

_skin_

_oil paint & plastic foil_

_skin_

_oil paint & plastic foil_

_skin_
 

 Under the skin.

On the skin.

By the skin.

"Skin" is a layer on the next. Filigree, gleaming,

fiercely she works.

Almost one would like to sniff in it, touch it.

Try to pull the plastic of the skin.

 

_clinic man_

_sold_

_clinic man_

_charcoal_

_clinic man_
_clinic man_

_charcoal_

_clinic man_
 

 Everything disappears.

Resolves.

No hold, while time and space

stretches and moves together again. Caught in a universe from which there is no escape. Hunted by pain, which causes tearing. Own internal hell, longingly the look at the window,

the escape directed.  

 

_you'll missing the end_

_sold_

_you'll missing the end_

_charcoal_

_you'll missing the end_

_charcoal_

_you'll missing the end_
_you'll missing the end_
 

 What has happened?

The picture appears like a scene.

It works as if one had thrown the woman in the corner.

Lying calm. Forget.

Is she dead? Does she still live?

Almost one wants to help her and

they preserve from the eye

which observes her present silently.  

 

_landing man_

_sold_

_landing man_

_charcoal & crayon_

_landing man_
_landing man_

_charcoal & crayon_

_landing man_

_charcoal & crayon_

_landing man_
 

 A person from another world.

Has he landed?

Was he arrested?

Bound?

His face, is it distorted with pain or sad?

His body, is he held by ropes or is pierced by tubes?

One does not know it.