Friday, July 30, 2010

Kitab al-Bulhan ...Book of Wonders...Part 2





Kitab al-Bulhan at the 

Iblis... 14th century Devil..Kitab al-Bulhan ....part 1

From one of my favourite books

aptly named  'Kitab al-Bulhan' (Book of Wonders
 A composite manuscript in Arabic of divinatory works, dating principally
from the late 14th century A.D., containing astrological, astronomical
and geomantic texts compiled by Abd al-Hasan Al-Isfahani, with


Wednesday, July 21, 2010

A Season in Hell...Arthur Rimbaud & Robert Mapplethorpe

A Rimbaud
A SEASON IN HELL [Une Saison en Enfer] (1873)

I only find within my bones
A taste for eating earth and stones.
When I feed, I feed on air,
Rocks and coals and iron ore.

My hunger, turn. Hunger, feed:
A field of bran.
Gather as you can the bright
Poison weed.

Eat the rocks a beggar breaks,
The stones of ancient churches' walls,
Pebbles, children of the flood,
Loaves left lying in the mud.

* * *

Beneath the bush a wolf will howl,
Spitting bright feathers
From his feast of fowl:
Like him, I devour myself.

Waiting to be gathered
Fruits and grasses spend their hours;
The spider spinning in the hedge
Eats only flowers.

Let me sleep! Let me boil
On the altars of Solomon;
Let me soak the rusty soil
And flow into Kendron.


It is recovered.
What? - Eternity.
In the whirling light
Of the sun in the sea.

O my eternal soul,
Hold fast to desire
In spite of the night
And the day on fire.

You must set yourself free
From the striving of Man
And the applause of the World
You must fly as you can...

- No hope forever
No orietur.
Science and patience,
The torment is sure.

The fire within you,
Soft silken embers,
Is our whole duty
But no one remembers.

It is recovered.
What? Eternity.
In the whirling light
Of the sun in the sea.

from LIMITED EDITIONS CLUB- A. RIMBAUD & R. Maplethorpe A Season in Hell. 1986

Monday, July 19, 2010

Abdellatif Laâbi... poetry

Abdellatif Laâbi: from Fragments of a Forgotten Genesis
Translation from French by Gordon Hadfield & Nancy Hadfield


In the beginning was the cry
and already discord

Which tore
the marriage of fire

sordid struggles of separation
and staggering blows of solitude

Sky drew back from fire
water drew back from sky
earth drew back from water
idea drew back from clay
and the form surged
cut in two

One half was retained
the other thrown in the abyss

No one thought of good
or evil

Who could have done otherwise?

It was necessary to pile
embers against embers
to awaken this unshakeable
fire in the eyes

The prey softens and submits
offers its hairy neck
to the belly’s
voracious germination

Everything devours everything
each cunningly takes its turn
the gluttonous sounds of swallowing

Vast was the destruction

The tadpole
in its stagnant pool
could not fathom

If only he had an antenna
with a small lens attached to the end
he could have …
But what would that accomplish?

sole witness to destruction

With this indictment the water returns
cloaking the unsavory spectacle

Amplifying the disorder

These purposeless waves

For a lapse in eternity
there was nothing but waves

A wineskin
its contents shaken
as if something begrudged its roots

With somber jaws
the waves cut to the quick
stifling these stammers
mixing and remixing

For which fleeting idea did they seek revenge?

The waves mixed primal decline
excess of matter
meagerness of memory

This upheaval spawns Hybrid
arch menace
cauldron of pure insanity

Hybrid frolicked
color is invented
by a simple rustle of light
free from its form
the gaze rises from the offal
mouths adorned
by either a retractable vulva
or an edible penis
Organs mirthfully
One even hears snatches
of clear music

Being sculpts Being

Limbless life
examines itself

Like a vital flowering
with a sprig of intelligence
and immediate love

There were only dreaming leaps
in the dance of origins

Body of all bodies
the possible denying the impossible
progress from the horizon to the whole
genesis in love with genesis

But a darkening
from flashes of rage
and a flood of meteorites
What endures great trials
will last
Then the waves ebbed
abandoning the earth
that overturned cauldron
with its bloodless population

Why this confusion?

from the wonderful collection at >



Sunday, July 18, 2010

Unica Zürn... Portrait of Hans Bellmer 1965


The staging of gesture, in a processus of transformation and metamorphosis, the patient weaving of memories, through "chinks in line": Unica Zurn has probably succeeded in her project of BEING. All the while waiting for her "magical encounter" - with the white-hair man, with Death?
" When i was a child i dreamt/ about the marriage with a white-hair man paralysed./ tied to a wheel chair forever.../ Behind us, eternal./ blossomed the Jasmine/ And this is the meaning of my legend/ of life together.../ Since my chilhood wedding, in a white dress-/ I feel that I gradually become white.../ To swim into the White, to perceive finally/ the White Image?"

 from an essay by Barbara Safarova "The magical encounter between writing and image"

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Cadavre Exquis ...


Greta Knutson, Tristan Tzara, Valentine Hugo, Cadavre exquis 1929


Nusch Eluard, Valentine Hugo, Andre Breton, Paul Eluard 1930

Monday, July 5, 2010

Zoyd... Photographs ...Self Portraits Series ..2010

©Makis Platanas




Happy Birthday... Jean Cocteau ...drawing

Jean Maurice Eugène Clément Cocteau
5 July 1889 – 11 October 1963


The poet doesn’t invent. He listens. ~ Jean Cocteau 

previous JC 1

Friday, July 2, 2010

Forthcoming exhibition this autumn..... Austin Osman Spare


Austin Osman Spare: Fallen Visionary

 Tuesday 14 September 2010 to Saturday 13 November 2010



Darken your room, shut the door, empty your mind.

You are still in great company



for further details >>