A Pastel drawn at night time, early autumn. I was working on a lot of pastel works during the summer... I might put up some such in here, once I get home. A tiny exhibition of sorts.
20101003
20100929
On hämmentävää tuntea, kuinka vaikeaa kuolemisesta kulttuurissamme on tullut. Niinpä ihmisillä on kuolevalle jaettavaksi vain valheellisia lohdun sanoja. Ikään kuin saattoväen moraali olisi romahtanut, arkunkantajat livenneet tehtävästään ja kuolevan siten itse huolehdittava ruumiistaan myös kuolemansa jälkeen. (Haudattava itse itsensä.) Miksi tämä pelko ja sen luomat valheet? Mistä ahdistus?
Ihminen -- sinä typerä, heikko ja valheiden täyttämä eläin. Jätä maailma.
Ihminen -- sinä typerä, heikko ja valheiden täyttämä eläin. Jätä maailma.
Kuolemastani
Syvä vastentahtoisuus määritellä paikkaani yhteisössä jätti minut kuitenkin äskettäin määrätyn sanan eteen, jota minun oli vaikea pyyhkäistä sivuun ja siltä istumalta unohtaa: "Dekadenssi" -- hyvinkin syvälle ulottuva ja pitkälle kehittynyt, elämänehtoja määrätietoisesti hävittävä ihmisluonnon rappiotila, joka -- luonteellensa uskollisesti -- vieläpä muotoilee itsestään oman ihanteensa. Kuolema on asettunut talooni ja odottaa minua näiden kulmien takana.
Ei masennus eikä toivottomuus -- vaan fysiologinen kuolema.
(Patologille neuvoksi myönnän päähenkilön itsensä määrittelemän todennäköisen kuolinsyyn: en kuitenkaan kirjoita sitä julki tässä.)
Syvä vastentahtoisuus määritellä paikkaani yhteisössä jätti minut kuitenkin äskettäin määrätyn sanan eteen, jota minun oli vaikea pyyhkäistä sivuun ja siltä istumalta unohtaa: "Dekadenssi" -- hyvinkin syvälle ulottuva ja pitkälle kehittynyt, elämänehtoja määrätietoisesti hävittävä ihmisluonnon rappiotila, joka -- luonteellensa uskollisesti -- vieläpä muotoilee itsestään oman ihanteensa. Kuolema on asettunut talooni ja odottaa minua näiden kulmien takana.
Ei masennus eikä toivottomuus -- vaan fysiologinen kuolema.
(Patologille neuvoksi myönnän päähenkilön itsensä määrittelemän todennäköisen kuolinsyyn: en kuitenkaan kirjoita sitä julki tässä.)
20100926
Of monogamy & exclusive bipolarity
"Needless to say..."? Or, perhaps not, after all.
The view-point, though, was amply well implicated in the previous posting, so by now it ought to be --
But, let me re-iterate: I believe the institution of monogamous relationships (not marriage itself, to be sure, as long as it be one that accepts polygamy) or the one of exclusively bipolar 'partnership' -- is a structure of destruction and spiritual decline. I do not acknowledge it, and pay no respect to conventions that arise from it -- lest there be no other, actually valid point-of-view to vindicate it.
(Thus, I would, for instance, respect a friend's wish not to complicate -- if such was actually to be expected -- his relationship by too intimate an involvement.)
"Needless to say..."? Or, perhaps not, after all.
The view-point, though, was amply well implicated in the previous posting, so by now it ought to be --
But, let me re-iterate: I believe the institution of monogamous relationships (not marriage itself, to be sure, as long as it be one that accepts polygamy) or the one of exclusively bipolar 'partnership' -- is a structure of destruction and spiritual decline. I do not acknowledge it, and pay no respect to conventions that arise from it -- lest there be no other, actually valid point-of-view to vindicate it.
(Thus, I would, for instance, respect a friend's wish not to complicate -- if such was actually to be expected -- his relationship by too intimate an involvement.)
20100925
Here it lays -- to my own surprise, most of all -- an open love letter to a girl I was once to be wedded to. Love we rarely talked about nor vowed, it simply was a relationship of love and care, so there won't be quite any talk about love in the letter, either. Actually, it falls somewhat short of being a 'letter' properly called, and, in the technical sense, it was an SMS -- so I'd better just paste it here, before things swell up in the mind of the reader and he/she just be dissapointed. -- Here, then, the sent and written:
"I'll tell you, girl, I'd Love to rock with you, tonight! Believe it? Just... dance till the Sun lights up the skies again. And should we feel weary, there'd be fire to keep us warm. It would be me and you playing, me and you singing... and dancing and drumming. Giving the night an unheard of souls!"
(Meanwhile, as this text laid unpublished for a day, she answered to have gladly joined me, but was held back, and couldn't make it, in the end -- which I understand, even if she should've come, anyway (Cf. the motto of this forum). But then, she's a busy lady, and even has some -- which she perceives as her -- marital duties to take care of. Needless to say, they don't make sense to me, at all.)
Now, if you already feel a sense of dissapointment, as for the content -- after all, that was all there was to it -- and was expecting something more -- please, tell me, -- 'cause there's a lot more in the store, and not just love letters. Letters of all sorts: of worry, of frustration; of envy, of hate; of thought, of thoughtlessness; of ration, of madness; of faith, of faithlessness; and so forth. All kinds. So if you like reading letters -- I can produce you one of any type, and publish it here. You just ask.
(Don't worry, they're all well written. I wouldn't bother myself writing anything that doesn't stand up to high standards of literary form -- with one notable concession -- you wan't perfection? Then, you will have to master my mother tongue -- which is Finnish -- as in no other way could I hold a promise of a shining, spotless form of expression. That's where my natural born sense of linguistic aesthetics resides.)
"I'll tell you, girl, I'd Love to rock with you, tonight! Believe it? Just... dance till the Sun lights up the skies again. And should we feel weary, there'd be fire to keep us warm. It would be me and you playing, me and you singing... and dancing and drumming. Giving the night an unheard of souls!"
(Meanwhile, as this text laid unpublished for a day, she answered to have gladly joined me, but was held back, and couldn't make it, in the end -- which I understand, even if she should've come, anyway (Cf. the motto of this forum). But then, she's a busy lady, and even has some -- which she perceives as her -- marital duties to take care of. Needless to say, they don't make sense to me, at all.)
Now, if you already feel a sense of dissapointment, as for the content -- after all, that was all there was to it -- and was expecting something more -- please, tell me, -- 'cause there's a lot more in the store, and not just love letters. Letters of all sorts: of worry, of frustration; of envy, of hate; of thought, of thoughtlessness; of ration, of madness; of faith, of faithlessness; and so forth. All kinds. So if you like reading letters -- I can produce you one of any type, and publish it here. You just ask.
(Don't worry, they're all well written. I wouldn't bother myself writing anything that doesn't stand up to high standards of literary form -- with one notable concession -- you wan't perfection? Then, you will have to master my mother tongue -- which is Finnish -- as in no other way could I hold a promise of a shining, spotless form of expression. That's where my natural born sense of linguistic aesthetics resides.)
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