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Art & Architecture

austrian artist friedensreich hundertwasser

Friedensreich Hundertwasserption

Austrian artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser was an expressionist artist and architect who built many colourful and eye-catching buildings around Europe in the 1950s. He created the Hundertwasserhaus, one of Vienna’s most iconic landmarks, alongside architect Joseph Krawina.

Thanks to @lost.in.ldn for this amazing photo on Instagram.

And the last Hundertwasser designed building is being built in Whangarei, New Zealand, where he lived in the last years of his life. He designed the building but the money has only recently been raised to build it. It is a very exciting project which will house Maori art.

All windows are different and trees and plants grow freely without any pruning or cutting. Places are created to allow neighbours to meet and have a good time together.

I’m always astounded by the work that can be done, is done by artists. How beautiful our world would be if we could only unleash this passion in the ghettos, the slums, even just the tired and worn of our streets.

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The Right Word

castle magic in sandpoint, idaho

Castle Magic in Sandpoint, Idaho

And then there are those things which are lovely once there, but made heavy on the approach. I’m not sure there’s a name for the trip you dread that becomes a most favored memory when left behind. It’s the going to and coming from that can be so different. It certainly seems as if there should be a word for that. If not, one should be created. It could be said the yin-yang of it, but that doesn’t quite capture the essence of the matter. It’s a mood whiplash sort of thing. But whiplash is too abrupt a descriptor. Hummm. Something to ponder. In any case, I don’t want two words, just one to nicely cover the phenomenon.

Imagine not wanting to go on a trip through the snow and cold to come upon the castle sight at the end of your journey. To have ale and wood fires burning, warmth and magic. Or to quote The Bard: when journeys end in lovers meeting.

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Snow

Snow. Snow snow. Snow snow snow… As with other words, repeated it becomes strange, a meaningless sound, a feel of tongue and teeth and lips. Words. Not the thing itself, not at all. Else we would stop each time some words are said, stop to feel the crystals melt on the tongue, face lifted to the sky, face brushed with kisses.

Walked in, played with, fallen into, more like a heaven of white and joy. The magical, the mystical, the miracle of timelessness.

in the stillness of the night ....by barbara klonowo

in the stillness of the night…by barbara klonowo

Thank God the snow has at last begun, winter has at last appeared, our coats now matter, zippers pulled tight. And we can know we belong to this earth, this place where each portion of the year has earned our respect, our love, and often—our sweet surprise. The light upon the earth has begun.

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And, Happy New Year!

Here’s to another year. My hope for all of us is that we may be protected from all harm, and kept safe from all danger.

nyrmv

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Oh Dear

And Oh My! I saw this and could only puzzle over it. I don’t know the artist or the location or the time period. Someone did point out the shoes, suggesting the Netherlands or Holland. I suppose the time  period is irrelevant. But I don’t know the suggested meaning. A title by the artist always helps a great deal. At least it could point us in the right direction.

the psychedelic museum

The Psychedelic Museum

I understand that meaning is subjective and we can take or give whatever it is that is suggested to us. But. When I look at this I wonder if it is the skeleton of the person who lives here or if the skeleton is waiting for the person who lives here.

Or. Does the skeleton not exist for the person who lives there, the unbidden reminder of the death that awaits us all? Is it a specter? Is it that one place is set and the other is forever waiting for what or who will join us?

I do note that the skeleton is quite tired, his (or her) head tilted downward. And yet, the candle is still lit, and is new. In any case, I am fascinated by this portrait of puzzlement. Oh…oh…another thought. Is it perhaps Time that is waiting and dying at the table we have yet to join?

So you see, wouldn’t a title help? Or is one of the central reasons this is so enchanting that we don’t know?