Without Lifting A Finger

Roithammer builds his sister a Cone. 

10/31 or 7/31? 

A stylistic thing: he goes on and on about something, as if to capture it (impossible) from every angle. The Big Black Bird (Huge Bird) bit will stick with me awhile. Excerpt: Everything is what it is, that's all. If we keep attaching meanings and mysteries to everything we perceive, everything we see that is, and to everything that goes on inside us, we are bound to go crazy sooner or later, I thought. We may see only what we do see which is nothing else but that which we see. Again I watched Hoeller from my window in Hoeller's garret, as he sewed together the huge black bird which he had stuffed to bursting. Suddenly I saw, perhaps my eyes had become adjusted to the lighting down there in Hoeller's workshop, or else the lighting had suddenly changed, anyway I saw several such huge birds, the back of Hoeller's workshop was filled with such birds, not all of these great, indeed huge birds were equally large, not all of them were black, but these were absolutely no ...

You go girls!!! 

Again "not much," but then again: what compares to the nightmares cycling and recycling through the nightly news? Anyway, I saw a (bed)raggled Rocky the Raccoon crossing the road Igor-like on the library side of Bay Shore after a night on the town or an early morning raid. I thought: If I hurry I'll catch him and his portrait. No such luck. Like some supervarmint he slipped into the storm drain (see below) and left only some skid marks behind. Anyway,... *         

Not much new since I've gotten home. Besides home as home and return as return, I'll say: had to deal with a flat, bucked rather than peeted (because of the flat), ran into this #Selfie (due to bucking instead of peeting), read a little in Bernhard's Correction, and imagined (inspired by #Selfie) the portrait of Self as a collage of texts and photos. I know: my order is your disorder. *

Very cool. Close to what I'm thinking of: portraits as a collage of photos and text. Anatol uses only text. anatol knotek

Jan Peter Tripp (* May 15 1945 in Oberstdorf in the Allgäu ) is a German painter and graphic artist . Life and Work Jan Peter Tripp is the son of the painter Franz Josef Tripp and his wife Josefa Tripp. Jan Peter Tripp went to Oberstdorf in the elementary school and the secondary school, together with the later writer WG Sebald . The two linked up to Sebald's death in 2001, a deep friendship, and Sebald dedicated in his collection of essays lodging in a country house, the last chapter Tripps painting. Tripp made ​​in 1965 in Oberstdorf, the High School and then studied for two years at the Free Art School in Stuttgart in Gerd Neisser . From 1967 to 1970 he attended the Academy in Stuttgart and studied sculpture at Rudolf Daudert . He then spent two years as a master student of painting at Rudolf Hausner . In 1971, he was by the German Academic Exchange Service with a university scholarship in Vienna excellent. The following year he received another award a...



            

                                            

    







Thomas Bernhard (German: [ˈbɛʁnhaʁt]; born Nicolaas Thomas Bernhard; February 9, 1931 – February 12, 1989) was an Austrian novelist, playwright and poet. Bernhard, whose body of work has been called "the most significant literary achievement since World War II,"[1] is widely considered to be one of the most important German-speaking authors of the postwar era. Life Often criticized in Austria as a Nestbeschmutzer (one who dirties his own nest) for his critical views, Bernhard was highly acclaimed abroad. His work is most influenced by the feeling of being abandoned (in his childhood and youth) and by his incurable illness, which caused him to see death as the ultimate essence of existence. His work typically features loners' monologues explaining, to a rather silent listener, his views on the state of the world, often with reference to a concrete situation. This is true for his plays as well as for his prose, where the monologues are then reported second hand by t...

Or perhaps the path was more tenuous than that.

From the essay on Rousseau: If he nevertheless persevered with writing, then only, as Jean Starobinski notes, in order to hasten the moment when the pen would fall from his hand and the essential things would be said in the silent embrace of reconciliation and return. Less heroically, but certainly no less correctly, one could also see writing as a continually self-perpetuating compulsive act, evidence that of all individuals afflicted by the disease of thought, the writer is perhaps the most incurable.

St. Peter’s Island (German: St. Petersinsel, French: Île de St-Pierre) is a peninsula situated in Lake Biel in the canton of Bern, Switzerland. It has a length of about 5 kilometres and a maximum width of 800 metres. Its highest point is 474 metres above sea level or 45 metres above lake level (429 m). It was formed in the last Ice Age (see Pleistocene), when the Rhône Glacier reached as far as the Jura mountains. It is a promontory of the Jolimont, above Erlach. Politically the island is split between the municipalities of Erlach and Twann-Tüscherz, the largest part belonging to the latter municipality. In the late nineteenth century following the engineering works of the Jura water correction, the water-level of the three lakes of the Seeland have dropped enough to clear the until then hidden isthmus, linking Erlach to St. Peter’s Island, which has eversince become a peninsula. Monks of the Cluniac order were the first inhabitants of the island, and built a monastery here in 1127. ...