(40×50 cm; pencils, gold leaf and a little bit tempera on paper; about 13h)
NOUS, the last part of this series: the nous
Drawn in the first week of 2017 – a nice way of beginning with something new, is to end something else first. I don’t know, if I’ll continue this series anytime or not – if I do so, then in the far future, but not now. Currently I have plans for another (some sort of follow-up) series while working on a large commission-project.
Just like all other NOUS-works also this one is accompanied by a sort of poem that came to my mind while drawing:
“Dancing at the border, singing in silence – only smoke is my companion.
The twilight of my existence, surreality and reality – overlapping.
In the midst, I refuse the truth of the artefact, as it is not my own.
I refuse being part of the machine – and yet I am…how can I be not?
Destroying the artefact, honesty can be such a pain – and yet a relief.
To see the pure truth, oh how ugly it can be, an abomination,
how horrifying and abstractly beautiful at the same time.
How powerful, how shiningly bright and how awfully shocking.
The border of realities, how thin it can be. How easy to oversee.
Reality and surreality – who can tell the difference between them,
when reality is so subjective and insanity knocks at the halfway open door.
A blurring of images and a blending of impressions, reassembling the norms.
I keep dancing in the smoke of the machine, holding broken pieces of the artefact.
Thousands of silent whispers in my head, while the clock keeps ticking.
My heart lies in the mists of twilight, the border where reality and surreality meet.
Castles in fog are my shelter, while I am a mutation of myself.
I walk alone, echoes in the smoke accompany me. Disguise opened wide.
A million voices inside my dreams. But are they dreams? Aren’t they real?
Can you see beyond the haze, can you see me? Can you see me now?
I am the mutant of reality and surreality. I am the mind – my mind.
There is no reality expect the one contained within us.
Our reality only exists in our mind.
NOUS is the reality and surreality
but every NOUS is different”