









Observation point, War paintings, War machine, War, what is it good for? 2015-










Observation point, War paintings, War machine, War, what is it good for? 2015-


gouache, 56•76cm, 2025

gouache, 56•76cm, 2025
Many of the men who disappeared recited verses, sand on and under, in and all over,
They never saw them again, they never heard of them again, no need to find hidden meanings in there
Of course some knew what was happening,
It was as if the men had vanished. blown away. it is like some people are more valuable than others. Who is to decide? Whose task it is to know?
they searched for,
had been searching for the DHM,
deep hidden meaning, to look for
fingerprints of the men with explosives
bullet-riddled body
demolished
the orchard’s walls,
the trigger wire for the bomb that had exploded earlier
here the shooting of a child is unremarkable for everyone
here brain stains on the wall is normal
decaying body, human jaw on the ground
after America’s 13-year war in Afghanistan officially comes to an end.
http://www.rollingstone.com/feature/a-team-killings-afghanistan-special-forces#ixzz2juNTE6jx
When are we at war? Could it be now? Who has declared it? It is a norm that there is war. World without war anywhere would be abnormal. Why is revenge important? Or honor? Respectable, respectability, making people, destroying some for the sake of honor. I can ask.
deliberately endanger someone’s health, bring atmosphere of fear and hate, distress, anxiety, hurt, ill, hopelessness. Does harassment change anything?
What is my right to my body, mind and the idea of me, to ideas that I produce. They light me up, I go to them, yes it is moving, or is it going, and I get excited, nourished by them. Mouth open like a. I cannot do but realize ideas, they give me strength as they are and change into other. So what is me then? When am I? When did I begin? Because I have begun, I have started. I have begun to spread, my ego has a strong will, it as me wants, demands, pushes me forward. Ambitious bitch, never letting anyone tell I cannot. Makes me want, there is a yearning, probably passion, grabbing, grip. Something to call mine. But I have to understand that eventually I don’t need much though I have much to give. How do I learn to share instead of possessing. To possess is a lonely place, lonely task to guard the belongings, possessions, that are extensions of me, To get extended otherwise in immaterial way. In a good way to achieve.