October 5, 2019

~ Brian Froud and Alan Lee


The sea

August 31, 2019

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean,—roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin,—his control
Stops with the shore;—upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.

His steps are not upon thy paths,—thy fields
Are not a spoil for him,—thou dost arise
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
For earth’s destruction thou dost all despise,
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,
And send’st him, shivering in thy playful spray
And howling, to his gods, where haply lies
His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him again to earth:—there let him lay.

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake
And monarchs tremble in their capitals,
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,—
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada’s pride or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee;
Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?
Thy waters wasted them while they were free,
And many a tyrant since; their shores obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou;
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves’ play,
Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure brow;
Such as creation’s dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty’s form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Calm or convulsed,—in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime,
The image of Eternity,—the throne
Of the Invisible! even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers,—they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror, ’t was a pleasing fear;
For I was as it were a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane,—as I do here.

~ Lord Byron

August 11, 2019

“Work is love made visible.” ~ K. Gibran.

August 11, 2019

“To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That is the purpose of life.”

“Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.”

~ “The secret life of Walter Mitty”, J. Thurber.


Rolling up the scroll of heaven at the end of time

August 3, 2019

Chora Church, Istanbul.


Sixteenth of September, 1956

July 14, 2019

One evening, when I was a little boy, I realized that the most beautiful image I had ever seen was the bright shape of the moon transpiring from behind the dark branches of an old tree.

~ Rene Magritte

Agostino Arrivabene

July 6, 2019

Rivolta d'Adda

Stigmata, 2012

Theoin III, 2012

Ea exit limen, 2012

Paesina I, 2015

Atanor, 2015

Vergine delle ombre, 2017


The application must precede the discovery

June 1, 2019


Friedrich Kayssler

May 30, 2019

“And here, poor fool, with all more lore,
I stand no wiser than before. […]
And see, that nothing can be known!
That knowledge cuts me to the bone. […]
No dog would endure such a curst existence!
Wherefore from magic I seek assistance, […]
That I may detect the inmost force
Which binds the world and guides its course.”
~ “Faust I”, J.W. von Goethe.


Spatial structure

February 3, 2019


“In the ’70s and ’80s František Kyncl’s works and collages assembled from skewers or bamboo sticks mirror the conflict between order and coincidence, superiority of the abstract geometric expression over the insubordinate spontaneity of nature, between modern rationalism, characterized by a geometric shape such as a triangle on one hand, and intuition, coincidence and spontaneity, represented by organic growth embodied in tree branches […]. The conflict, for the very first time identified by structuralism in the ’70s — in his diary, Kyncl repeatedly refers to structuralism, and the word structure often appears in the titles of his artwork — is typical of this time period, and reaches a pinnacle in the criticism of the foundations of modern rational thinking, and of the belief in the ability to control both natural and social phenomena […]. The ascending triangle or pyramid, at the top of which modern thinking was believed to exist, is therefore the visual reflection of a hierarchy which Kyncl is consciously undermining by orienting his triangles upside down.”
~ Museum Kampa, Prague.