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yeoldontknow · 4 years

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17 questions tag ✒️

tagged by @heartcravings to do this little question tag. thank you so much sweet pea! 💕

nickname: kat

zodiac: aquarius sun; leo moon; aries rising

height: 5′4″ / 162cm

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

last thing i googled: this:

song stuck in my head: SENNO - Awich, Dogma, Chinza Dopeness (ive been losing my mind over this song and her whole album the last few days)

number of followers: enough that im always surprised and verklempt

hours of sleep: during the week...maybe 5-6 a night; on the weekend about 7-8

lucky number: 16

dream job: motion picture music supervision (a lot of this is arguing with lawyers but theres so many other fun aspects with film soundtracks especially indies who need help getting music licenses :<)

currently wearing: black leggings and black shirt

favourite song: ive got a million faves. because ive been writing pretty much constantly ive been in my writing playlist non-stop so the fave ive written the majority of ciperion to is She - Pensees. ive been trying to listen to my sea shanties playlist but this song is??? the entire vibe of the story and i keep hitting repeat atm

favourite instrument: i play violin and have so much love for it, so its one of the faves. piano and cello can send me into one of those asmr tingle states really quickly; a well played sax can turn me on; guitar is...oof

aesthetic: a mix? of like...old academia lit prof with rainy astro nerd bog witch in cozy sweaters and too much coffee hugging her cats

favourite author: mark z danielewski; isaac marion; andrew davidson; catherynne valente; madeline miller; richard siken; toni morrison; virginia woolf

ill shout out some fave fic authors too. sam did this and honestly we need to support content creators here it was such a wonderful idea! @yehet-me-up @jamaisjoons @kyungseokie @readyplayerhobi @dark-muse-iris @ditzymax @iq-biased @johobi @gimmesumsuga @j-pping ive recently been working through @junghelioseok‘s masterlist too - every time i read the works of these talented writers i am engrossed in so many new worlds. theyve been my crutch through this quarantine, taking me places when i dont feel safe enough to, or cant, leave my house. they make reading a pleasure - literally, the act of reading their stories is pleasurable on its own. the talent here!! i swear!

random: uhh here have a preview of the ciperion draft ive been writing over the last week (under the cut). ive been so busy working and writing i dont really have an update for anything else lmao i genuinely hope everyone who took the time to read though this is doing well and staying safe! i love you all!

tagging: @yehet-me-up @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @jamaisjoons @j-pping @hiimbo @imdifferentshadesofpurple @red-exo @ninibears-erigom @ditzymax @dark-muse-iris and anyone else who wants to do this! as always, please only do so if comfortable!

When he’d returned home, you were still sleeping. Unchanged and in the exact position he had left you, a brief anxiety overtook him at the sight of your too relaxed face and the weakness in your limbs. There was a fragility in you that frightened him, a treacherous sort of quiet that promised great annihilation consuming the room and reaching down, deep within his ribs, compressing his lungs. He would have shed tears for you, would have unleashed an expression of grief so holy and so silent it would have broken worlds - but you moaned, almost regal in your suffering, and, for a moment, he was weightless.

In the tense tranquility that followed he slumped into the reading chair beside his bookcase, head buried in his hands, and sighed. With his eyes closed, he could pretend things had not changed, that he was still himself, that he still belonged to himself. It was as though there were two of him, battling within his blood - the one that knew nothing, that craved the assurance and predictable simplicity inherent in the life he had built for himself warring for its survival against the other.

But the other is violent, a torrent against his bones reminding him this life is not his, that you are his life, and the passion in him is pushed into madness at the notion of not being able to follow where you have gone.

‘All this?’ he lamented into the rough skin of his palm. ‘All this over the desire to be loved?’

#17 questions tag #about me

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windolfcolumn · 6 years

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The Lookout (A Karl Ove Reacher Thriller)

By Karl Ove Reacher

In those days I considered myself a poet, or something like a poet, although one would have been hard-pressed to find any lines of verse in my many ragged notebooks. The days were drifting one into the next, and Uncle Gunnar said, "Karl Ove, at some point you must become serious about your writing, you know."

It was very late in the autumn, the time of year that people will call winter without giving it a second thought, and no one corrects them. Gunnar and I sat in the chill of a dock with the sea wind blowing at us very coldly. Seagulls were wheeling about in the air and in my memory I see also that my uncle and I were not wearing heavy jackets in the fresh darkness and I see, too, that we were smoking slightly bent and rumpled British cigarettes plucked from a soft pack.

I said nothing but only puffed on the wrinkled stick made of paper with the tobacco leaf-scraps packed tightly inside it, and those scraps were burning. It was a fire, but controlled, and I supposed in that moment that I was its master.

"Karl Ove? Eh? Do you hear me?"

"Yes, yes," I said at last. "Who needs more of this dreaded 'literature,' however?"

We trudged away from the spinning sea birds and away, also, from the coldly blowing wind, and we moved on our legs toward a pub. Ever since the summer prior, a small group of romantics -- or so I had thought of those fellows, when I thought of them at all -- had been holding sway over the place, and a pair of them shot looks in the direction of me and my uncle as we stepped over the threshold and into the warmth.

We pushed bills across the surface of the bar in exchange for tall glasses of heavy brown beer and we tipped them back and I saw that the froth was clinging to old Gunnar's mustache, something he was quite unaware of, this bubbly froth, and I supposed that, in time, I would be the same way, just an old man drinking beer on an evening near to winter without even the slightest knowledge that the foam had attached itself to whatever facial hair will have sprouted from my skin.

Uncle Gunnar said something about the state of things in Europe, as if under the impression that we should "discuss politics" now that we had changed locations from the rustic dock to the supposedly more civilized environs of the indoors. Perhaps I would have replied intelligibly but I had not quite caught his words, my ears slow to adjust to the new acoustical atmosphere and the thrum of voices around me, and I offered him but a grunt. Perhaps, also, my failure to respond in kind owed something to the fact that I found myself a bit lost, or pretending to be lost, in my own pseudo-poetic musings about life and its meaning, if any. For instance, if there is no god to keep track of us, then what is the point? Then again, why should some higher power interest itself in human beings more than it would in, say, an ant? And what is wrong with being an ant? Why should I feel superior to such a creature? If the mere capacity of my brain was enough to earn me some sort of special status, celestially speaking, then what good had it done me? Or, perhaps more accurately, what good I done it? Here I was, drifting, depressed, accomplishing nothing of note. And yet, what was the nature of accomplishment? Could there be anything more futile than human accomplishment, which seemed to me necessarily intermixed with cruelty and oppression? Had any so-called advance ever been accomplished without one person's having stepped on the neck of another?

Suddenly, one of the romantic fellows brushed up against my back.

"Europe, eh?" he said.

"Excuse me," Gunnar said, "my nephew and I were having a conversation."

"Nephew, eh?" the romantic -- or so I thought of him -- said.

That was when he and I caught glimpses of each other's eyeballs. Eyeballs looking at eyeballs — that is a strange thing indeed, and it occurred to me that we had each canceled out the other's existence, if only for a moment. At the same time, there was a recognition in our mutual glance, for this was Henrik, who had been a schoolmate of mine. He had been a joker in those days and still I saw a bit of merriment and aggression in his eyeballs. It is a combination that I have long detested. The remainder of Henrik's face looked like a wooden board.

"Eh, Karl Ove Reacher!" he said, with a bit more volume than seemed suitable for a mouth so close to my ear. "We need you to be a lookout man. Go outside, then. Finish the beer, or take it with you, I don't care."

"Lookout?" I said.

"Go back outside, into the cold now, that's a good boy."

"Boy?"

And then I felt the cowardice crawling up my spine and nestling into my brain.

"Keep a lookout for police, foreigners, government officials, what-have-you."

"Foreigners?"

"I am sure you know just what I mean. Go on, then."

The cowardice had me stepping back toward the threshold. By the time I had reached it, a few of the other romantics had joined with Henrik, and they were asking my uncle to dance. Asking is the wrong word, however. They were demanding that he dance. They clapped their hands together and they cajoled him with phrases insulting to his honor and they gave him light taps that evolved into firm pushes, and poor Uncle Gunnar began to make foolish movements with his body that looked all the more pathetic given that he was not wearing the proper clogs.

Standing beside Henrik was a bull of a man names Ingmar. I had known him from the brief time I had worked in the cannery. How many slabs of whitefish had passed me by as I jotted yet another pensee into my notebook? At Ingmar's back were two other men who struck me as impressionable students. Perhaps on some sort of intellectual lark, they had seemingly fallen under the spell of these rough romantics, or so I had thought of them in my effort to block off the truth.

For all the crags in his face, for all his olden ways, Uncle Gunnar was known in the villages as a forward-thinking person who had no patience with the old mythologies, and as he continued with his horrible dancing, he appealed to me with a glance.

Up until this moment, my most serious physical altercations had involved only myself. And yet my moments of self-abuse of the last few disappointing years in which I had found myself unable to translate my pseudo-poetic feelings into any sort of publishable text had steeled me against my perhaps inborn distaste for violence.

I took three strides back to the bar. Henrik and his compatriots were laughing and clapping together their hands.

"That is enough," I said.

"Haha! Karl Ove says it's enough!" screamed Henrik.

"Oh, Reacher, we are frightened!" said Ingmar.

"Come outside, then," I said. "It is too crowded in this place for me to beat you properly."

"Beat us properly!" screamed Henrik.

"Yes, Karl Ove, we shall follow you and fight, then," said the bull-like Ingmar.

In a moment or two, I stood facing the four men on the street outside the place. Nearly a dozen others stood on the lumpy sidewalk, watching.

"Well, Karl Ove?" Henrik said. "When shall the fighting begin?"

"It already has," I said.

"Has it, then?" Ingmar said. "We did not notice."

"In our school days," Henrik said, "I did not know you to be much of a pugilist."

"I have known much failure since then," I said, "and it has made me tougher."

"Ah, but there are four of us and only one of you," Ingmar said.

"Apparently you are a mathematical genius," I said.

The two student types would come at me first. This I somehow knew. I was also cognizant that in their enthusiasm and confidence they would not coordinate their actions. The first one, with a reddish beard, stepped forward and threw a jab with his left. I allowed it to connect with my jawbone.

"Not going so well for you so far, Karl Ove," Henrik said.

In a front pocket of my blue jeans I had a house key. I fished it out with my right hand. With my left, I gave the red-bearded student-type a small slap on his right ear. Then, with the tip of the house key peeking out between two fingers of my right fist, I was able to punch him straight into his nose. The metal drove in past the bone and blood spurted out. Given that he was only playing at this hooligan stuff, in my estimation, he went down rather easily, stunned and frightened, cradling his face and wailing.

The second student-type then made his move. He was a smooth-faced young man with blond hair cut tight to his head. I managed to duck his wild swings, and as I did so, I noticed a loose cobblestone. I grabbed it, lifted it — it was quite cold to the touch — and I smashed it against the back of his head, knocking him out.

Henrik said, "When did you learn to fight, Reacher?"

I said, "I did not learn. Everyone already knows how to do it. It is like playing guitar."

"But can you play an F chord?" said Henrik, leaping into the air and kicking me in the face.

I admit I had not expected that. I found myself on the ground with blood trickling out of one ear. Beside me on the ground was the beer glass I had recently drained. As Henrik moved to fall on top of me, I smashed it and held a triangular shard forward. It penetrated his sternum. I gave it one turn to the right and one to the left for good measure. Henrik gasped and rolled aside, clutching his abdomen.

"Well, well," said the bull-like Ingmar.

I noticed steam emerging in wisps from his nostrils. At the same moment, at my back, I heard the sound of a moped engine drawing near. I turned around, shoved Jarl the postman off of his small vehicle, and leaped aboard the seat. Then I gunned it and drove straight toward Ingmar. In the split-second before contact, I popped a wheelie, and the front wheel of the bike clanked hard against his testicles. With a great heaving of breath and sudden popping-out of his eyeballs, he hunched himself over.

I drove forward a short distance and then turned the bike around. Within seconds, I slammed into him again at a speed of twenty miles per hour, I would guess. I hopped off the moped, grabbed the bloody cobblestone, and smashed it against Ingmar's neck. He lay in a heap on the street. For good measure, I stepped on his neck and told him he was useless and that all humanity was more or less useless, so that whatever notions he had as fodder for his political philosophy, if his collection of what I assumed to be tribal feelings amounted to something that could go by such a name, were not worth his time and effort, and that he should admit as much to me now.

It took a while to make my meaning plain but at last Ingmar got the gist and said, "I am useless."

"Let's go, Uncle," I said, then.

"Yes, I suppose that is enough fighting and talk for one evening," said he.

We walked up the hill, saying nothing, until we reached the clump of piney woods close to his house.

"The events of this evening have given me a notion," I said. "Do you suppose, Uncle, that I should try to write things with a bit more action? Fights and such?"

"I am not sure, Karl Ove," said he. "Perhaps physical altercations are best left to the street. Perhaps there will one day be a market for your melancholy musings."

"I am not so sure about that."

"Well, who can say what the literary trends shall be in the coming years? Good night."

"Good night, then."

Soon I reached home. I inserted the house key into the slot and wondered if the blood remnants would gum up the works. Inside, I found that the place was untidy, and the sight of it made me feel ashamed. First I went at the piled-up dishes in the sink. I washed them and I dried them. Then I scrubbed the floors on my hands and knees. By the time my hovel looked presentable, dawn was breaking, and I could hear the little birds on the other side of the walls and windows making their first chirps of the new day.

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pikaspace · 5 years

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9/14～9/15 死者を弔う圓山和幸公開制作

死者を弔う

圓山和幸公開制作

9月14日（土）15日（日）の2日間公開制作 @イマジネーションピカスペース軒先

はじめに

今回は人形を作りますがそれに至った経緯がややこしい、かつ、話が長くなるため詳細は以下に記したテキストを読んで頂くことになります。

1 桑の木の枝

2 人形と巫女

3 黒崎先生の思い出

わかりやすく言うとセルフ祭の期間中に人形を作ってそれを奉納するということになります。セルフ祭って去年のふんどしテープカットが象徴してると思うんですが、祭という行事が本来持っていた死と再生のイメージを色濃く持っているように感じます。そういった場所で人形をつくり奉納することは人形に込められた思いを祭の力でどこか遠くに運んでくれるんじゃないかなと僕は信じています。

死者を弔う

1 桑の木の枝

1ヶ月程前、友人が桑の木の枝を持ってやってきた。その友人は群馬県前橋市の専門学校で教員をしているんですが学校の近所にあった桑の木を切り倒したので枝をもらってきたとのこと。その桑の木を触らせてもらって、なんだかよくわからないが何かを感じたので桑の木について調べてみることにした。群馬県は世界遺産の富岡製紙場や日本のアパレル製造を支えてきた桐生市があり繊維産業が盛んな地域でした。前橋というところは明治以��養蚕が盛んになり、前橋市��外から赤城山の麓にかけて桑畑が広がっていて絹糸の供給地でした。高度成長期が終わり、海外から安価な絹糸が大量に流入してくると養蚕農家は廃業や作物を転換したりした為、前橋から養蚕業は無くなってしまいました。その名残が友人の持ってきた桑の木の枝であると知った時にこれを使って何か作りたいなと感じました。ただ、最初に感じた何かはこれだけではなかったのです。

死者を弔う

2 人形と巫女

古来、日本では神を象った人形を巫女が操り、こちらの世界にやってきた神をあちらの世界に返すという神事を行っていた地域がありました。その人形がどんな形をしていたのかは実物が残っていないのでわかりませんが、幹から枝が分かれて人の形のようになったものを使うこともあったようです。人形を作るにあたって、何の木を使っても良いんですが身近にあるものを使うのが自然な流れになりますから竹や養蚕の盛んな地域では桑の木を使うことが多く、養蚕をしていた地域の範囲が広かったせいか、人形は桑の木で作られるということになりました。人形は神事が執り行なわれるまでは厳重に保管されているんですが、絹糸で人形を包んで封印していたようです。桑の木から生えた葉を食べた蚕が絹を吐き出すわけですから古代の人たちも桑と絹の関連性を見出して絹糸を使うようになったのかもしれません。僕は群馬県の桐生市に住んでいて、繊維関係の仕事をしていますし、織物の歴史をテーマに制作も行なっています。友人が持ってきた枝に何か特別なものを感じたのはこういった背景があったからかもしれません。

死者を弔う

3 黒崎先生の思い出

8月のお盆に実家の大阪へ帰省している時にピカスペースへお邪魔して、今年もセルフ祭で何か出来ないかとはるきさんにお願いしたところ、今年も公開制作をすることに決まりました。公開制作をどういった内容にするのかをはるきさんと話しあって、最近身近に起こったことをピックアップしてテーマを絞っていくことになりました。その中で6月にお亡くなりになった学生時代の恩師である黒崎先生の話になりました。 10月に京都で先生のお別れ会が開催されることになり、追悼文を同級生から頼まれていたんですが、どうにも追悼文を書く気にはなれず断ってしまいました。ただ、心の中でそれが引っかかってしまってどうにも気分が晴れない。そんな時にはるきさんから、今年は死者を弔うでいこう、頼まれている追悼文も書こうと言われ、はるきさんに背中を押された形になりましたが以下に記した追悼文を同級生に送りました。

黒崎先生の思い出

黒崎先生は厳しい方でした。作品を褒められたことは数える程しかありません。ただ、世話好きな方でもあって、工房で一人で制作しているとつきっきりで教えて頂いたりしました。学校を卒業後、制作を続けるようになっても、いつか黒崎先生に褒められるようになりたいなと感じていました。制作し続けることは大変な事で一度は諦めてしまったこともありましたが、なんとか作家活動を続けることができたのは黒崎先生に褒められたいという思いが残っていたからかもしれません。僕は黒崎先生には度々迷惑をおかけしてしまっていて、人前で先生の話をするべきではないと考えていました。自分の気持ちを表に出せないまま時間が過ぎて、先生がお亡くなりになったと聞いた時、言葉にはできないような虚しさや後悔の念に襲われました。僕は黒崎先生から受けた恩を先生がお元気なうちに返すことができませんでした。もっと早くお伝えするべきだったのですが、この場を借りて黒崎先生に感謝の言葉を贈らせて頂きます。

黒崎先生、ありがとうございました。先生から受けたご恩は必ず作品でお返しします。

圓山和幸

死者を弔う

おわりに

全体のまとめになりますが、僕は個人的に黒崎先生の思い出をなんらかの形で送りたいと思っていました。それが今後も続く制作や作品の発表という形になると思っていたんですが、友人の持ってきた桑の木の枝を手に取り、桑の木の持つ意味や神事に使われた人形を知った時、桑の木の枝と絹糸を使って人形を作り、それを使ってセルフ祭で僕の思いを遠くに運ぶことを決めました。これは桐生に住んでいるから思いついたアイデアですし、それを奉納できる場所を用意してくれる人がいて、このアイデアを実行するために背中を押してくれたということに不思議な縁を感じます。それは幸福な事なんだと信じています。

圓山和幸

【略歴】　圓山和幸　1976年　大阪府生まれ　2000年　京都精華大学美術学部版画専攻　卒業　2002年　多摩美術大学院美術研究科絵画専攻版画領域　修了　個展　グループ展　2001年　日本版画協会展　(東京都美術館　東京都台東区）　2001年　あおもり版画トリエンナーレ　（青森公立大学　国際芸術センター青森　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　青森県青森市）　2001年　全国大学版画展　買上賞　（国際版画美術館　東京都町田市）　　2002年　日本版画協会展　（東京都美術館　東京都台東区）　2002年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（ギャラリー　ピリカ　東京都調布市）　2004年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（ギャラリー　ミルフイユ　東京都世田谷区）　2007年　あおもり国際版画トリエンナーレ　（青森公立大学　国際芸術センター青森　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　青森県青森市）　2009年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（ギャラリー山口　東京都中央区）　2010年　WATARASE Art Project 2010 現代美術どーのこうの～　（栃木県日光市）　2010年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（MUSEE F 東京都渋谷区）　2012年　WATARASE Art Project 2012 PAREDE 展　（群馬県桐生市）　2013年　個展　部屋は明るいほうが良い　（ギャラリーシャディ　栃木県日光市）　2013年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（PENSEE gallery 群馬県桐生市）　2013年　リキテックスアートアワード2013　（3331アーツ千代田　東京都千代田区）　2014年　WATARASE Art Project 2014 シャンブルダミ　展　（群馬県桐生市）　2014年　WATARASE Art Project 2014 碧水祭　（栃木県日光市） 2015年　圓山和幸　皆川俊平　展景色をみているのか絵をみているのか PENSEE galler (群馬県桐生市) 　2016年　ArtComplex　有鄰館　(群馬県桐生市) 　2017年　神さまをでっちあげてみよう　(公開制作)　イマジネーションピカスペース　(大阪市浪速区) 2018年　光を与える　(公開制作)　イマジネーションピカスペース　(大阪市浪速区)

【日時】9/14(土)～9/15(日) 【場所】イマジネーションピカスペース軒先(公開制作) 　

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ailuromoe-blog · 7 years

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underused character questions !

TAGGED BY: @scarletxaya

INTRODUCTION NAME: Nozaki Moeka

AGE: 27

PICTURE/GIF OF YOUR MUSE:

WHAT WOULD BE THEIR TWITTER NAME? WHAT SORTS OF TWEETS WOULD THEY TWEET?

moechokaleito. updates from current on-shoot locations to random quotes and music

WHAT’S THEIR FAVOURITE GENRE OF MOVIES? OF MUSIC? historical. biography documentaries. the cheesy stuff to overly dramatic slice of life type of movies. chill jazz indie kind of music is her thing.

WHAT’S ON THEIR TOP QUEUE ON NETFLIX? currently GMC

WHAT’S THEIR FAVOURITE SCENT? DO THEY SMELL LIKE THAT? anything of lavender. when it’s on her off-work day.

WHAT IS THEIR FAVOURITE SEASON, AND LEAST FAVOURITE SEASON? WHY?

favorite autumn. least winter. the falling of leaves is spectacular and also the transition from the warmth in summer to the cold winter. winter is least because its just madness.

APPLE OR ANDROID? apple

ARE THEY A BOTTOM, TOP OR VERSATILE? bottom.

DESCRIBE THEIR MORNING ROUTINE. DO THEY WAKE UP EARLY OR SLEEP IN? DO THEY PRESS THE SNOOZE BUTTON A BUNCH OF TIMES OR DO THEY IMMEDIATELY GET UP? early bird person. wakes up at 5 to do daily runs and play with pensee !!

#» 005.

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ladyfiresquirepoetry-blog · 7 years

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August 14th

Your sweet little blue nose stares at me from the window and I suddenly understand attachment to the feeling of loving something so dearly without expectation.

Working your ass off to be who you want to be, to exist as you want to exist, and suddenly you ARE that. It’s beautiful, no? Creating, space, together, is. so. Beautiful.

I love you, human-ness, Volkswagen, handwritten letters, lipstick stained coffee mugs with remnants of a self discovered woman. I shed all that I am not through the blood of humanity. Natural. Deeply wine colored, smelling of the sea and the salt.

I understand now. I am everything. And happily so. THIS is why I came here. What Other gets to experience this dense, sensual human world this way? Flowers, flowers everywhere. All the drops to drink, all the smells to smell, words to chew and thoughts to have. They are all mine! Oh what joy! I am so fucking alive!

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ge-rh-expert · 5 years

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La Suite Présidentielle du Lutetia pensée comme un musée éphémère

Le mythique hôtel de la Rive gauche, racheté en 2010 pour 145 millions d’euros par le groupe israélien Alrov Properties and Lodging et gérée depuis par The Set Hotels, avait réouvert en juillet 2018 après quatre ans de travaux (et 200 millions de factures dit-on), cordonnées par Willmote et Associés.

Avec ses 169…

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#ge rh expert #hôtel Lutecia #suite Lutetia #suite présidentielle Lutetia #The Set Hotels

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pikaspace · 5 years

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暫定8/14 圓山和幸【光を与える】制作記念パーティー

圓山和幸【光を与える】制作記念パーティー

2018年9月15日～16日の間にピカスペースの軒先で【光をあたえる】を、公開制作してくれた圓山和幸「以下マルちゃん」公開制作中には、完成しなかった。 1度、群馬の自宅に持帰り、ピカスペースの2018年の大忘年開の時に完成品を持ってくると言っていたが未完成の作品をわざわざ群馬から持寄り公開した。再び群馬に持帰り、満を持して先日、光をあたえるは、完成した。まさに3度目の正直である。

マルちゃんの作品は、2017年に描いてもらった【神さまをでっちあげてみよう】があるピカスペースのトイレ入って真上にある天井画がそれである。

かなりやってますねの世界である

ちなみに神さまをでっちあげてみようも期間中には、完成せず、持帰り、完成した作品である

マルちゃんの作品は、見ればわかるのだが、かなりやってますねの世界である要は、かなり根気のいる世界である。

今回の【光を与える】も、まーすごいです

画材は、こちらで準備したものなので、立体作品になります

光をあたえるは、今週末からピカスペース内に展示します

感想BOXを置くので、感想を書いてください

暫定ですが8/14(水)に光を与える制作記念パーティーを致します

日程は、前後する場合があります。

その時に感想BOXを開けて、制作秘話や、足尾銅山、廃墟などの話で(マルちゃんは、この辺の話が大得意) マルちゃんを囲んで、わいわい飲みましょう

ちなみにわたしの感想です

星野道夫の、鯨の骨の写真を思いだしましたけど何千年か先に、光を与えるから、なんかでてきそーな感じがしました「あっ蛹だったのね」みたいな

以下【光をあたえる】制作動機＆圓山和幸略歴

5月に以前から興味のあった和歌山の熊野本宮に参拝した時に感じたことが頭の隅にひっかかって離れない。熊野本宮には4人の神様が祀られていて、賽銭箱が4つ並べてある。左から順にお参りしていく訳なんですが、賽銭箱の奥には鏡が据えられており鏡と向き合う。神様に向かって手を合わせるというよりも4枚の鏡にお参りする。その鏡はよく磨かれて美しく、神様を区別する為かそれぞれ違う色の布で飾られていた。参拝した日は晴天で鏡に反射した光が眩しかった。 4枚の鏡に手を合わせる。たったこれだけのこと。だけど参拝を終えると不思議と静かな気持ちになる。どうしてそうなったのかはわからない。印象に残っているのは鏡に照り返された光。その光を浴びたから厳かな気持ちになったのかもしれない。その後、現在の熊野本宮が元々あった河原で昼寝をしていた時に、仏様が光を照らせばゴミ捨て場も極楽に変わるという言葉を思い出した。　仏様の光がどのような物かわからないけれど、真摯な眼差しで物事を見つめれば今までと違った光景が見えるという意味なのかもしれない。熊野の山道をバスで揺られながらそんなことを考えた。制作の動機は自分が興味を持ったり、あこがれ、心が震えた体験といったものを真摯に見つめることにあります。僕は大阪生まれで子供の頃から新世界は身近にありました。ただ、新世界や天王寺といった場所は近すぎるが故に今まで真摯に見つめることを避けていたように思います。この場所で、この場所にあるもので制作することは僕の人生を見つめることでもあります。今回はどんな物を使って制作するかはまだ決まっていないけれど、熊野の鏡に照らされた時のように、僕が光を与えることができれば面白いものも生まれるでしょう。それに何より不安だらけの人生も、少しくらいは肯定できる。

【略歴】圓山和幸 1976年　大阪府生まれ 2000年　京都精華大学美術学部版画専攻　卒業 2002年　多摩美術大学院美術研究科絵画専攻版画領域　修了個展　グループ展 2001年　日本版画協会展　(東京都美術館　東京都台東区） 2001年　あおもり版画トリエンナーレ　（青森公立大学　国際芸術センター)　(青森県青森市） 2001年　全国大学版画展　買上賞　（国際版画美術館　東京都町田市） 2002年　日本版画協会展　（東京都美術館　東京都台東区） 2002年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（ギャラリー　ピリカ　東京都調布市） 2004年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（ギャラリー　ミルフイユ　東京都世田谷区） 2007年　あおもり国際版画トリエンナーレ　（青森公立大学　国際芸術センター)(青森県青森市） 2009年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（ギャラリー山口　東京都中央区） 2010年　WATARASE Art Project 2010 現代美術どーのこうの～　（栃木県日光市） 2010年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（MUSEE F 東京都渋谷区） 2012年　WATARASE Art Project 2012 PAREDE 展　（群馬県桐生市） 2013年　個展　部屋は明るいほうが良い　（ギャラリーシャディ　栃木県日光市） 2013年　個展　圓山和幸　展　（PENSEE gallery 群馬県桐生市） 2013年　リキテックスアートアワード2013　（3331アーツ千代田　東京都千代田区） 2014年　WATARASE Art Project 2014 シャンブルダミ　展　（群馬県桐生市） 2014年　WATARASE Art Project 2014 碧水祭　（栃木県日光市） 2015年　圓山和幸　皆川俊平　展景色をみているのか絵をみているのか PENSEE galler (群馬県桐生市) 2016年　ArtComplex　有鄰館　(群馬県桐生市) 2017年　神さまをでっちあげてみよう　(公開制作)　イマジネーションピカスペース　(大阪市浪速区)

【日時】8/14(水)18時より　※暫定【場所】イマジネーションピカスペース　 ※マルちゃんの作品は、3万円～販売しています。正直、制作日数など考えたら、破格ですマルちゃんのそーいう所、好きですお気軽に問い合わせてください

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pikaspace · 6 years

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9/15～16 圓山和幸公開制　【光を与える】

圓山和幸公開制作

【光を与える】

【日時】9/15(土)～9/16(日) 【場所】イマジネーションピカスペース軒先(公開制作) 　

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