Drawings: The Comfort of Sorrow

                            The Comfort of Sorrow 30.3.2016

Aika toipua

Pelon karkoittava kipu
maailmankaikkeuden uusi valaistus
tarkoitus tiukasti huomisessa
kaikki matkaliput
turvassa lukitussa laatikossa

Tarkoituksena lipua ohi
vieraalta tuoksuvat vaatteet
huomio ylihuomisen lupauksessa
puhtaassa vedessä painottomana
epävarmuuden uskollinen voimavara

Huomio herkeämättä muualla
lehdet tyynessä ilmassa
katse seuraavan viikon kaukaisuuteen
tai ei sovitulla niin väliä
jähmeänä tällä penkillä

Katse heidän jaloissaan
onnellisuuden täydellinen pyöreys
varmuus seuraavan kuukauden paineesta
pysähtymättä eteenpäin
näkymättömät hevosten silmälaput

Varmana tästä hetkestä
puseron polttava reuna nyrkissä
hengittämättä kahden kuukauden päähän
erehtymätön särky unen reunoilla
jäljellä vastikään herännyt huimaus




Hengittäminenkin aukeni valheeksi
huonekalut oli jo viety huoneesta
lupasin sen epätoivolle jonain päivänä
arvoituksen rosoisin ratkaisu
on taivuttava valaistuksen rajalla

Luvattu jo kolmatta kertaa
ikävän keinuva syleily
tyhjänä toiveena tänään ehkä joskus
kellotornien äänetön pyörrytys
kaikki kurottavat kädet taskuissani

Tyhjät kengät eteisessä
pesuainemainos varasti tunteeni
päivämääränä ehkä ei koskaan
lahjoitetut suuntaviitat
vielä laatikoissa kadunkulmissa

Päivämäärä sovittuna erolle
kahdeksan nyöriä solmittuna
vielä jotain, vielä joskus
tiedän oravan piilottamat kävyt
hiekkarannan kimaltavia jyviä

Vieläkö täällä
jos muut ovat muuttaneet taloomme
odotan kuitenkin jonain päivänä
aika peitti kaikki kovimmat osani
hait sanat eilisen lehden ristikkoon




Odotus uudestaan ja taas kerran
kitkerällä levolla kullatut kalterit
jaksan aina kaksi kuukautta
vuodevaatteiden silmitön raivo
eikä pelkoa sokeutumisesta pimeässä

Jaksoin ostaa nenäliinoja
nyt vapautettuna valvomaan öitä
tartun käteesi kuukaudeksi
hylättyjen haaveiden vuorovedessä
makea kaste herkillä versoilla

Tarttuiko lahkeeseeni katkeruutta
päivämäärättömyyteen kietoutunut karheus
kielletyt toiveet ratkeavat jälleen viikossa
tai yhä uudestaan kiertyen
voinko hengittää näin uutena

Kielletty väsynyt voima
varovaisuuden villi kesytön viha
mitään ei tapahdu ylihuomenna
joka päivä astun sen askelen
paikallaan paikoillaan sitkeimpänä

Mitä piiloutui taskuihini
kun unohdin jo peruutetut liput
pelon katse taas kerran huomisessa
ehkä en voi hajota uudestaan
ehkä asuin toisessa talossa

Drawings: Fractals (2)

                               Fractal Petals, no 1 28.3.2016

                               Fractal Petals, no 2 28.3.2016

Colored versions of the Tree Fractal.

Drawings: Fractals (2)

 

                              Tree Fractal 27.3.2016

Five Months

Just that. Five fucking months.

Determination

You are power. You are determination. You are the never ever ending grim dirty resolve to reach higher further and broader that even you yourself deem possible. Your home is in that tight dizzying place of endlessly aiming for the impossible, the palpable realization of the clear shimmering vision deep deep inside you.

You cope by only pushing harder. By never giving up. By the easy trick of simply doing the job of ten people and not giving a damn about someone else giving up because you yourself never do. That is who you are, just there pinpointed is the top and the bottom, the core and the edge of who you are, all of you, all you ever were, in one word; more.

It is compulsory, no need to force yourself inhabit it, it happens every single time in every single situation by the simple fact that it is just how you function. There is no other truth possible for you. And so you enhance it, worship it, you make it your worth, your reason, your moral. The definition of yourself.

And so fuck help me god how completely wrecked you hit the bottom that one Tuesday afternoon when all that, all of it, is denied you with one simple word. For an indefinite time with no knowledge, no possibilities, no mercy. From now on no determination, no power, no diligence, no pushing, no reaching, no courage. Not one whiff of yourself.

How to cope with this one small problem of being denied your only way of coping?

Drawings: Fractals (6)

 

 

                        Yet Another Boring Fractal, Color 24.3.2016

The progress of drawing is shown (backwards) below as I find the different steps create interesting viewpoints of the "same" shape in this case. All the fractals so far are hand drawn (pencil & marker on paper) as the meticulous hand drawing is just so damned much fun (no sarcasm); the utterly satisfying concrete realization of the abstract with your own body. Also I find the hand drawing creates a beautiful softness to the pictures. Colors on the other hand are done afterwards on computer with Gimp.

 

                       

                    

                

Drawings: Fractals (4)

 

          Fractal Stained Glass 21.3.2016

Just messing around with the original: Rose Window Fractal

Drawings: Fractals (3)

                    Fractal Clover (Color) 21.3.2016

                    Fractal Clover 21.3.2016

Siltamme ohuista versoista

Rakensin siltamme ohuista versoista
Kiedoin tiukasti ympärilleni hengittämättä
Ojensin käteni vastaanottavaan lämpöösi
Taivuin luoksesi pehmeytesi voimasta
Odotin sumussa silmät sidottuina
Kävelin hämähäkinseitin harvaan ympärillesi
Kosketin syntyäkseni uudelleen ihollesi
Rakensin siltamme ohuista versoista
Kasvoin ympärillesi vapautuen juuristani

Music. Again.

Music hurts. Opens doors without knocking. Breaks barricades. Rains down merciless. Grasps the past and pulls it in front of your eyes, bleeding, trembling.

Music hurts. Soothes soft layers of sorrow over your body. Sleek, yielding, treacherous with assurance. Envelops you with tenderness that you worked so hard to abandon.

Music hurts. Fills you up, bursting, aching, screaming with echoing emptiness. As an invitation, unavoidable, unreachable. Raw with agonizingly unfulfilled prospects.

Drawings: Reasons

 

                            Reasons Why I Dance 18.3.2016

Drawings: Ahla Andalusi

                    Ahla Andalusi 15.3.2016


Listening to oriental music again. Inspiration from the album Maher Kamal: Ahla Andalusi

As a side effect the heart piercing sorrow of not really being able to move with the music. Is that why I ended up with a picture without feet even though I was thinking of precise steps in my mind choreography?

No point.

No point waking up. Don't believe I'll achieve anything anyways.

No point going to sleep. Nothing yet happened today.

No point checking the time. Will be just the same tomorrow.

No point sleeping much. Never got tired ever now, actually.

No point knowing the date. Cause who's counting?

No point in schedules, really. No rules and regulations in misery.

Drawings: Water

 

                                Water 8.3.2016

Drawings: Fractals (4)

                        Rose Window Fractal 7.3.2016

Drawings

 

                             Flower Arrangement 5.3.2016

Drawings

                    Colors II 5.3.2016

Not.

There is procrastination. There is escapism. There is laziness. I know all about them too, not to worry.

There is that.

And then there is the fucking pain in your whole bone structure that will blind you if you open your eyes and therefore you just have to, you just have to keep sleeping.

There is that switch you had to flick, you were forced to flick it, really, as otherwise you'd have been swallowed, digested and turned to earth by the crushing weight of responsibility, so now you're just floating free in the zero gravity cell you created.

And then there is. Well. Not. Just nothing. The void, the silence, the numb. Just no reaction. Just staying still. Not even ignoring, because just: not. Not doing. Not being. Not. Simple. The empty set. Effortless. A bypass. A solution. A free round. Just one more.

There is that.

And am I waiting for the day when, when someone knocks, I'm not forced to create just another door to close? Wondering what opening them all one day, one by one, will feel like?

There is that too. Perhaps.

Drawings: Growing Up

                     Growing Up 3.3.2016

Drawings: Looking For a Way Out

                     Looking For a Way Out 2.3.2016

Light. Today.

What a difference a small gesture can make.

Today outside, really seeing the sun as Spring for the first time this year. Looking at the jam-packed brightness on the pavement, the roundness of the light in the dusty air. The kind of light that has its own smell and touch and sound.

At the swimming pool, letting yourself at last be completely engulfed by the unconditional exhilaration of continuous movement. The delicious soft burn in your lungs, building up and spreading alertness throughout your body. The vivid present aching pulse in your muscles, the buoyant feeling of being the movement, the slight breathlessness, the welcome warm flush on your skin.

Under water, feeling the smooth silky current flowing around your smile for the first time.

Afterwards tranquil, weightless in the dressing room. Perhaps today, getting dressed again was not a chore.

Sitting in the car, hearing the sand under the tires, the car turning and all the possibilities of life suddenly in the parked cars at the parking lot, in the row of thin trees just there, in the earliness of the hour and in the light all around, permeating inside the car and inside bones, nerve cells, veins.

What a difference a small gesture can make. Seeing your doctor smile for the first time.