Redirecting towards culture that refuses the hidde systems of obscene waste, a culture where traces of use, decay and repair are celebrated and the act of making good becomes the pivotal role between humans, their resources and nature. A web of realities where decay and resurrection coincide.

As I could question, with the needs of speeding up, the patience to admire the slowness of the actual proces of the blooming flower.

Yet, we look a little closer and those delicate petals are dissolving into decay.

Decaying flowers resined, sculptured and documented in the atelier and later collaged with the use of AI generator  

Rotting Land

The post-rain releases here an earthy scent.
The damp grass whips the feet violently, leaving marks on the flesh,
While nettle rash spreads throughout the body as a soft sensation reaches the chest.
The only source of nutrition is dew and sweat on the upper lip.
Fucking, sleeping, and growing.
Time after the storm counts much slower.
Yet new grown seeds begin to germinate under the fingernails.
Population of the garden peer out among the grass.
Either as some kind of fungal net or like-reptile tail.
Dance macabre on the foreskin
Shaved, sweated and shocked
During early fall you participated and you directed the event,
Stepped into the role of a view-catcher
Particularly given the theme of “development”
Besides the leafless tree, the representation of clocks going back and forth
And a chair with the honeycomb-paint sticked to its leg was slowly swaying.
Memory of that day, could not be forgotten as the chair definitely was suppose to fall at least once.
This situation does not possess a conventional narrative arcs
The observer is the fly, a spy of the whole, who provokes a sense of dread beside the fruition of how little we understand about the seasons.
Its diversity happens to make a friction.
A self-destructive cannibalistic world
Where whatever one says, just after the sense, comes nonsense and diminishment
As an intruder into one’s own intellectual game Not wanting to suppress the cynicism and irony
Yet taking the position of pre-text pre-weaponed pre-concerned pervert.
With philodendrons’ smell and mud, soon to be covered with a yellowed leafs
The Autumn Crocus has a rather unusual life cycle in that the colourful flowers blossom as its name suggests, in early fall.
The plant referenced in the Egyptians’ Ebers Papyrus, the oldest known medicinal document
Thirty-five centuries later, still found in modern pharmacopeias,
The field filled with bodies and the Autumn Crocus seems to create certain symbiosis.
It occurs in a world that has changed beyond recognition.
The post-human biotope could be teeming with new artificial or augmented biochemical life
Genetically modified organisms, hybrid technologies, and autonomous intelligent systems.
On the basis of synergy, they are all sharing resources, habitats, and information in an open and inclusive manner.
Approaching the land of rotting, you start to smell a decaying compost
The result of liberation and experimentation
The battle to let go of the aspirations of the previous season’s vision of artificially nourished nature.

Blender&Unity landcsape and writtings. Published at DaisyWorld Magazine Amsterdam San Serriffe