Showing posts with label prints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prints. Show all posts
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Arthur Boyd... print....1993
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
William Blake... print & poem..1793
"The terror answerd: I am Orc, wreath'd round the accursed tree:
The times are ended; shadows pass the morning 'gins to break;
The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands,
What night he led the starry hosts thro' the wide wilderness:
That stony law I stamp to dust: and scatter religion abroad
To the four winds as a torn book, & none shall gather the leaves;
But they shall rot on desert sands, & consume in bottomless deeps;
To make the deserts blossom, & the deeps shrink to their fountains,
And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof.
That pale religious letchery, seeking Virginity,
May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty
The undefil'd tho' ravish'd in her cradle night and morn:
For every thing that lives is holy, life delights in life;
Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.
Fires inwrap the earthly globe, yet man is not consumed;
Amidst the lustful fires he walks: his feet become like brass,
His knees and thighs like silver, & his breast and head like gold.
And Satan is the Spectre of Orc & Orc is the generate Luvah"
The times are ended; shadows pass the morning 'gins to break;
The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands,
What night he led the starry hosts thro' the wide wilderness:
That stony law I stamp to dust: and scatter religion abroad
To the four winds as a torn book, & none shall gather the leaves;
But they shall rot on desert sands, & consume in bottomless deeps;
To make the deserts blossom, & the deeps shrink to their fountains,
And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof.
That pale religious letchery, seeking Virginity,
May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty
The undefil'd tho' ravish'd in her cradle night and morn:
For every thing that lives is holy, life delights in life;
Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.
Fires inwrap the earthly globe, yet man is not consumed;
Amidst the lustful fires he walks: his feet become like brass,
His knees and thighs like silver, & his breast and head like gold.
And Satan is the Spectre of Orc & Orc is the generate Luvah"
from America : A prophecy
Monday, August 8, 2011
Aigner Fritz(1930-2005)...the madness of a pregnant woman ..prints...
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Karel Valter (1909- 2006).... Faun
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
W Blecher... print ...1967
click on image to enlarge
The Albatross
Often, to amuse themselves, the men of the crew
Catch those great birds of the seas, the albatrosses,
lazy companions of the voyage, who follow
The ship that slips through bitter gulfs.
Catch those great birds of the seas, the albatrosses,
lazy companions of the voyage, who follow
The ship that slips through bitter gulfs.
Hardly have they put them on the deck,
Than these kings of the skies, awkward and ashamed,
Piteously let their great white wings
Draggle like oars beside them.
Than these kings of the skies, awkward and ashamed,
Piteously let their great white wings
Draggle like oars beside them.
This winged traveler, how weak he becomes and slack!
He who of late was so beautiful, how comical and ugly!
Someone teases his beak with a branding iron,
Another mimics, limping, the crippled flyer!
He who of late was so beautiful, how comical and ugly!
Someone teases his beak with a branding iron,
Another mimics, limping, the crippled flyer!
The Poet is like the prince of the clouds,
Haunting the tempest and laughing at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting people,
His giant's wings hinder him from walking.
Haunting the tempest and laughing at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting people,
His giant's wings hinder him from walking.
Flowers of Evil - Charles Baudelaire 1857
Friday, June 3, 2011
F. S. Sonnenstern (1892-1982) ...prints
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Hans Bellmer...print.... undated
“The body resembles a sentence that seems to invite us to dismantle it into its component letters, so that its true meanings may be revealed anew through an endless stream of anagrams.”
Hans Bellmer
Hans Bellmer
André Pieyre de Mandiargues on Bellmer...
“He was highly intelligent and seemed to have no sense of culpability or sin—there was innocence in his perversity. His eroticism was intellectual rather than sensual, cold rather than hot: this attracted me to him because like me, he was basically a puritan, and like me, he had no time for vulgar sensuality.”
Monday, April 11, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Wenceslaus Hollar 1607-1677... Decorative Object Print...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
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