*Right behind you

there are people that radiate some kind of cold grace.
it's incredible how -while looking at them- they make you feel untouchable, while they are always untouchable.


you'll cling to the ways of their name.. .

*Press Pause?

screenshot from PRESSPAUSEPLAY

while watching "PRESSPAUSEPLAY" by David Dworsky, a movie about democratized culture and the way the creative world is evolving, I started wondering:
maybe this time we live in just offers no space for art anymore…

Everyone is an artist?
this might have been an interesting thought one day, but now, it is something we should really consider more carefully. sure it's nice that everyone is encouraged and has the possibilities to express themselves through different media, but maybe some people should do their stuff and then just let it go.
now i can already hear the mob cry "Who are you to say what is art and what is not?". i will try to explain my point of view.
some of us sit at home, staring at the wall because they can't cope being confronted with all this masturbation that is out there to see and hear. it's like an endless loop of embarrassing, uncanny reality shows -rolled up in adjusted colors and effects, filled with even more irritating youtube-clips- that you can only escape from by locking yourself into an empty, soundproof room.
the dangerous thing about this is, that there are sensitive people out there, who are deeply affected by every little thing they see and hear. now they are being flooded with different "artworks" every second of the day, and they are gravely disturbed by the dubious messages they send. the reason is: most works that are hovering out there, do not exist because of a deeply felt need of the heart to express trouble or inspiration, but are just a product of polluted minds with the goal of becoming the next big likebutton-millionair.
visiting places like art galleries or art academies, it becomes undeniable, that where once stood a silent person, naturally uncomfortable showing his most secret thoughts to the public, there's now a rockstar, reporting smugly on the "meaning" of his extraordinary work, inside a room decorated with art critics (formerly known as "guests") who just love to picture themselves in an artsy ambiance.

inside the art academies, students aren't being motivated to look for ways to express complex visions anymore, but are being instructed to produce works that are of interest to the art market, while constantly being reminded that everything already exists anyway.

these days, i can't see clearly or get myself to start to work on anything, because it all seems so pathetic and useless. but having considered all this and while not wanting to be a part of this pigsty and have my work get lost in this ocean of blurs, i still have to face the truth, that if you want to exist as an artist and you have to somehow make a living from it, because there just isn't anything else that you could possibly do with your life, you can't save yourself from this world. i'll have to go on and take the risk of sinking.
the first step will be to find any kind of motivation again.

and this is why i wrote this post. if there is anyone out there, who has anything to say to this- in the best case: an advice on how to achieve a white-noise-mode to be able to work again, let me know, i'd be very thankful.

(natürlich gerne auch auf deutsch...)

*JungArt Berlin

Visit me and my work at JungArt Berlin from 24th to 26th of November at the Alte Münze (Molkenmarkt 2).

*two years ago...

*Lightning Strikes, Maybe Once, Maybe Twice.. .

Now we're back, to the velvet underground
back to the floor, that we love.. .


























and it all comes down to this.




















(words from "gypsy" by fleetwood mac)


pictures by me&thomas

*London Sky/Brighton Shore

Lndn
>>Paint a picture,
Clear cut and pale on a cold winters day,
Shapes and cool light wander the streets like an army of strays,
On a cold winters Day.





Patient moments you chill to the bone under infinite greys,
Vision hindered mist settling low like a ghostly ballet,
On a cold winters Day.







Will you let me romanticize,
The beauty in our London Skies,
You know the sunlight always shines,
Behind the clouds of London Skies. <<
(London Skies - Jamie Cullum)




The Train To Brighton