Abstract impressionism as the CIA’s propaganda tool in the Cold War

The “uncanny” feeling in David Claerbout’s Unseen Sound

when / then

when the rays of light 
seep through 
a leafy crown
of the dome-shaped tree
who stands so still
under the traveling lamp
of Phoebus

Zoobar

The mist was everywhere. It was a lovely night. Or so I thought when I walked out of the hotel I was staying at with Mark. I briefly stopped at…

Griboedova 13

Back in the 90s, my family occupied my long-deceased great-grandmother’s house in Ashgabat, the capital of Turkmenistan, the former…

smoke, tears, memories, lies, bridges

in response to the quote from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

“We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of…

a tiny thought on Rone at MARS

I find myself on the unkempt and shabby premises of an abandoned house. Before my eyes, a vision in dusty…

dust

hush — say you, 
restoring silence 
over the forest of a room,
a single bedroom apartment

a speck of dust confronts 
your violence, 
minutely, in a hurry,
but dies away
when touches windowpane
caressing other specks…

***

How dost thou cover the ulcerous place
what unctions, potions, magic dost thou use
to skin unseen 
and film the filthy memories of youth?
what dost though use
to ope thy soul, repent, forgive,
forget misgivings
that oft bereft thy spirit
of blithe? 
virtue or vice? or both combined?
by acting fair? loving boldly…

Hotel Ukraina

As I look down from where I stand I can see the beautiful bend of Moskva river, the busy highway of Kutuzovsky prospect, cars rushing…