Takeo spikes dating
I obsess about how fine a line I can do; ultimately, I love seeing all the little black lines that I’ve painted come together to create an image.’ Despite the striking maturity of her work, Susan has been working in ceramic art for less than a decade.For many years she worked as an art director/designer in advertising.
Erotica of exploitation, defiance and embarrassment, and sadness.Someone could not woke someone up from its fainting, from its death; that’s almost indecent and yet I believe him; I believe this quest for beauty in all places that supposed to be covered with dirt.“This is me and my brother”, he said to me simply when describing the relationship between the young man and the bird; two non-identical twins who rolled out to the farthest edges: man and bird, live and dead; and suddenly the layers I’ve counted faded into dust.‘When I’m contemplating a new piece, I start by going through my collection of natural history books until I find something that “speaks” to me.I work with it in terms of size and placement, and then begins the slow and meditative practice of putting paint to porcelain.A young man with burning eyes (that’s the way it is, sometimes similes flares in your head, later it softens).
Anyway, a young man with brown eyes, keeping dead birds in his freezer and later taking them out of their coverage in a club named Nightingale Cinema, no less.
He spoke about dead birds, I remembered birds interested him back then as well, in Bezalel. See, those are birds that people don’t usually put inside their freezer, long winged, magnificent, fragile. He told me about the freezer, the cooler where a dead bird is each time carried into the club he photographs in, waiting for the right, crucial moment.
I was immediately sorry I hadn’t thought of it myself, that I hadn’t stolen him from life, into my story.
They aim to challenge the notion of beauty by drawing ones own and contrasting it with the dark and the strange.
As well they tell a story of fearlessness allowing whoever wears these objects of art to be transformed; bringing out inner confidence and strength.
That sentence he said, reminded me of Jacob Biton’s poetry who wrote about himself and his brother Dogan facing their grandma’s death, the big mother.