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TomMuyldermans In reply to ManiekWilq [2008-12-29 18:21:18 +0000 UTC]

Thanks ManiekWilq! It is painted on waterpaper... I can understand ofcourse your lust for boobies, and no offence taken or intended at all, but is not actually ment to be erotic. The nudity just hints the fragility; swirling around in dreamy patterns, not knowing what might come to us... even less wich effect it will provoke within us thus. The eyes not meant to be seen, veiled me the border of that screen; Where are we going?? To the castle or to the forest? Am I as you are? Who would say? Show our way? Does time just wave over our shoulder? Or like a gentle bird whispering from above? Yes you may... perhaps today?? Is anything ever over? Is my heart a flower full of love? Are my words like rivers flowing? These are riddles remaining sober, waiting for an answer from above...

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ManiekWilq In reply to TomMuyldermans [2008-12-30 00:56:41 +0000 UTC]

Flow of words, like a river flow,
every letter like a rain drop on the ground... They are whispering, yet they scream loud, as if they had something important to say ... "Words like violance, break the silence. I hear them crashing in to my littel world". For a while the words seem like mud, mayby because of the wet ground. But suddenly the letters start to sing their song ... As if they were pure, simple, an clear.

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TomMuyldermans In reply to ManiekWilq [2008-12-30 04:17:20 +0000 UTC]

I realy like you reaction ManiekWilq!! You realy do seem to understand what this painting is about

Actualy it's kind of funny... When I painted this one, I was working on a concept of trying to find a way to overcome the barriers that language lays upon us by analysing dreampatterns; in the end I didn't get exactly where I expected to... but then again I allready expected to end up somewhere unexpected anyway The journey was quite fruitfull in other ways, so no time wasted... This painting kinda witnesses the unpredictability and so on, swimming between forces trancendentaly perceptible, yet doubtfull. No ground, no identity, swiling with the wind, entangled with strings of life and death, playing symphonies with my body and me playing back on them; that's a litle where I was while I made it, I hope you like it!

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