art

Baari 2000

| Henna Timanttimetsä

Anonymous architecture 2002-

Kuva | | Henna Timanttimetsä

Times of an art student and fish fingers.

Kuva | | Henna Timanttimetsä

At the table: But avalanches of all sizes are possible, he said. They are plural forms of Jesus.

| Henna Timanttimetsä

But avalanches of all sizes are possible, he said. They are plural forms of Jesus.

What is ancle what is angle what is to sit in a cafe what is to listen
what is anger what is danger what is to danger what is rumour what is hurt what is to die what is to live what is to love tell me what it is. Pendulums.
They are swinging nonstop fast in a tormented way.

Dotted lines making graph, making it on paper, showing on printing paper, chain reactions sliding frequently, jumping to infinity. Black girl with no clothes on sent her goodbye waving her body. Siren of her vulva of her flood, flower megaphone of her multiplexes, endless body parts in I will do it again I promise. Shoeless woman threw up. Threw up Jesuses.

 

Prisma

| Henna Timanttimetsä

sovereignty in a cloud
Fighting giving meaning in us, for us to structure the world and make it may be simpler, maybe better. Fights making us and making us do good and bad. To write about good and evil: it is clear to me that I stand on the side of good. Why is that so clear? Does my origin, ideas, gender, age, skin color, profession(s), art, deeds, tell how good a person I am? What deeds, characteristics tell my quality of goodness or evilness? That is what I think now, because I’m not so sure. What is good and just, it is that I have chosen to realise and do as I see fit and they serve me, my idea of good for me. Do I take the rest of the world into consideration in my goodness? To choose and accomplish, it is a question of self and losing self, not to make only what your self desires, not only letting your need to want to want. Decide what is good. Tastes good, makes you feel good. Is my body that decides since I must eat, sleep, drink and follow? It decides much for me as do my feelings. My feelings and sentiments, gut telling me which paths to follow. Telling me something about good, what might be good to do.

Earring in a bowl of water

| Henna Timanttimetsä

Glaring body

Glaring body, origin of, pulled out of something beautiful, out of that glaring body. It is still shining its light like a lamppost on a dark street. His naivety became to signify fear, to mean good at heart or young, an inexperienced mind, trusting or having lived with only one perspective to a view.
Her naivety became to signify fear, to mean good at heart, which is more easy to say, that is, was she who is naïve still. Unchanged as she remains, trusting, believing, faithful and true, that is what naïve means in a way, you do not change when you don’t have to or because you are afraid and believe truths of others instead of your own, you are afraid the truth of your own, afraid because it might end up hurting you, because it is not the truth of the most of the world or maybe it is, but they are afraid of it too.

Documentation of burn.

Kuva | | Henna Timanttimetsä

Burning sheets

The burning sheets, pink, naivety of a dreamcatcher on a concrete balcony, glass shades on the first floor. Disliked the kitsch and the thought of a horror b-movie in YouTube in ten parts.

Pleasing stuffing, filled but not full, exhausted, drained, sucked, emptied, done. Wanting to fill it, because of the lack of content and the feeling of fulfilment all the time that is compulsory. Drank in between the birches in cool calm despite the sign of a mall in bright. There and the dirty double-trailer truck on the side of the road, two words, a pulp factory, which has been closed for some time.

It is dark, drinking in the dark, the blue, yellow and red, drinking a wish and the thought of full, drinking the landscape, drinking the melancholy and the night, drinking the time, drinking the passing cars, drinking the dirty snow, drinking the shoes, drinking the hands. Not who drank but why. The problem is what you are. That is why.

Killer Hair

Kuva | | Henna Timanttimetsä

Killer

Man entered flowers, tattoos, piercings. Sat on the stairs staring out smelling of wet grass and rain, leaf on his head, yellow, couldn’t say anything.
Brown spots, small
birch

Nature Wild How In the dirt. 
I don’t know.

How fragile are we, sting to be stung by a sudden wasp in the hair. When you torched your hair, didn’t know what, to be stung, sting, hit, anger in fists, in small beings staring outside scared.

 

Ah, slut.

| Henna Timanttimetsä

Should I really? Ah slut, suck it. Yes, give it a go.
By the way, what if we would make dogs glow in the dark as well as their shit and the leash and the hand holding the leash, the owner may stay in the dark. Smell the news, love it.