this is the anthem
this is the anthem
this is the anthem
I don't like, how, underneath things, you find fear.
if love was so powerful, why would a person not choose it, every time?
Thiek. Golem. Pile of clothes, they come to life - inflated by nothing - then -
Celine, now I get the attraction, did you have the balls to articulate or did you just have the balls just to be yourself. I see evil I misidentify as honesty. Wy? Because evil is evil. It can't help tp be itself. It eats itself. It lashes out. It's on full display 24/7 and nothing is covered, nothing is cloaked no matter how hard it tries to do otherwise - it cannot escape itself. It is pure. Is it pure?
Never have I read seen, heard much of evil true to evil other than evil itself. No words can wrap around it. It just has to feed. It's not a personality, it's not human, it wears no clothes, it doesn't matter what it wears, it can look silly dumb, handsome, off, doesn't matter. It is always itself. It cannot be any other way.
Is that honesty? Is that what makes honesty...gravitate to it...Predators would not exist without prey. They seek out prey. Prey is everywhere. So evil makes no apologies no excuses or if it does they are fake and weak and barely clear...because evil can only be evil. It does not understand itself, it has no plan, it simply hunts, destroys, eats, feeds, feeds, feeds off whatever it can sink its teeth into.
Evil does not suffer.
Evil has no hope
Evil is a lost ghost.
Evil must fufill its needs.
It has but one need
So one dimension it is so fragile, it cannot form thoughts, the need to feed is so over whelming. Like you need to eat but you're trapped in an empty parking lot for all time. What the fuck are you going to do. Your soul is an empty parking lot. You are starving. You are always starved. You must feed that endless, empty hole.
When things are broken, ruined, overgrown, decayed, struggling to push out...wait...struggling to push out...you see those cracks, arms taken by milennial, it takes on a new form, you see it as whole...so with the broken cracks you see beauty but all it sees...is an empty hole. And it cannot admit this to you. It hasnt the ability, the language, no mouth, no tongue, no ears, no eyes, even as they may stand there before you, it is all empty inside. Thiek, from Malpertuis, by Jean Ray, how I adore that crumpled pile of . scraps that suddenly activate and become a man, carrying heavy loads, it knows nothing, that's all it knows.But these things are dangerous. It could take your soul. That movie, The Butler, and the Master and The Slave - Hegel, Aristotle, the slave always has the advantage as soon as the awareness dawns that the Master depends on it for self image...there are 10000 ways to pick fruit - but to rely on a slave, oh you need them for something else.
The upior - it is a physical thing - so this is the draw - it is not sue of what it is - so it suffers - openly. Is open suffering honesty? Because so many who really suffer cover it up like hell. Those who are fine - are not. Those in pain - are fine. But the Upior - cannot help but suffer - feed - suffer - never full - never fed - never found. And it comes out. And does this. Is that honesty? And honest statea. As honest as a broken arm. Images can change, but internal states cannot. That hurts doesn't it? The Upior makes no excuses.
The Upior cannot have it...so distracted by the hunger - if a feast was offered to it on a golden platter - it would smash it for a wooden bowl
And it if tasted the goddess?
You tell me, because in fact, it would taste nothing.
Maybe we are full of the nectar of the gods, but are such slaves, we think our blood is poison
Flower of Poland
Maryna on Lwowska is a pretty girl. What a wonderful girl, I do not want another one anymore
I just want ...
Jestem ?nie?nobia?y. Nie widz? snów pod moimi oczami. Pada ?nieg.
I am snow-white under my eyes the dreams I cannot see.
I see the lives of others.
forced to love the unlovable
you get obssessed with me
you find out what you can of me
you want to possess me
you build me up to be the most desireable object you have ever laid eyes on
you can't believe I am real
you think about me 10000 times while your body explodes
you can't think about me enough
you can't stop thinking about me
and then it turns out - I am real
and it begins to snow
Wann ist es möglich, das Unmögliche zu lieben.
Das Herz, das nicht lieben kann
The teeth in her mouth...one, two, three, four...not bad the teeth, not bad, now what: what's the name I gave you
Freedom this really is a stroke of luck. We've been looking for you freedom. Now you just slip along and slip away.
In the land of the blind a one eyed man is a freak
So that we may now live in this promised land. The price in this priceless land. As decoration was sewn into the train. Never forget the moral or who paved the trail. Another drifted cinder come to ground. Another sinner whose been found. Is this the Brideship to the Freeworld?
i was on a tram it was a sunny day and in the distance a bearded man rode by on a bicycle he looked like abraham/ishmael/elijah/lincoln oldlanky and thin he caught my eye and smiled as if we both knew something: recognition
CHLOE PIENE INTERVIEWS HERSELF, AUGUST 10, 2018
Is it true that someone tried to buy your eyes?
Duty, Honor, and Responsibility
I went into a cell phone store because my phone wasn’t working. There was this old guy who pointed to this young guy. He said: “How much for your eyes?” I was like, what? He said: “I want to buy your eyes.”
Was he trying to be funny?
No, the room was quiet. Everyone was waiting for my answer.
I said I couldn’t give him a price because someone had offered to buy my soul. So, I was trying to decide which I valued more: my eyes or my soul.
So what did he say?
He said, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll buy both. You have 36 years to decide.”
That’s straight out of a horror movie.
Yes, it was fucking scary.
It’s as if he knows exactly when you’re going to die.
What you don’t know and what you can’t see has enormous power over you.
But you like the unknown.
I don't scare easy. Somewhere there is always a weakness. Somehow there is always a way in. Steel is flexible. Iron shatters. The toughest men are afraid of something.
So, when people connect to your work -
They connect to reality or to themselves in a way that I cannot explain. They experience truth, validation, recognition. A journalist approached me the other day at my opening at the Leopold in Vienna, in tears. She was so moved.
What about your experience?
I’m not interested in experience that doesn’t challenge me. There is a need. I am compelled. To make things. To climb mountains. Examine tombs. To explore. I like breaking into graveyards at night and walking around naked. I like to walk through forests naked. I need to be near people who see things differently, naturally, innately. People who go forward unthinkingly towards difficult or new goals. That = respect.
What have you dug up?
Hiking with no clear path – no markings, no indicators. I found a lot of Neolithic tombs; undated, unknown. Viking graves, their weapons, their adornment. A certain farmer in Ireland. A certain mother who can tell stories about Fairy times as if it were now. The ocean. Blood moons. Ford or Dodge Pickup trucks, fast cars (V8 or V12 engine), oxen strength, tattoos.
CP: Do you have any tattoos?
CP: A lot of people have gotten my drawings tattooed on them. It's nice when they ask or tell me about it - when they do they usually send an image.
CP: What about your tattoos?
CP: What about them?
CP: What do you have tattooed on you?
CP: You can only see them if you take my clothes off.
CP: So what are they of?
CP: You would have to take my clothes off.
What are some horror movies that you like?
It (old and new), Poltergeist (staircase scene), The Exorcist (“I am no one”), Get Out. Mythical creatures, old fairytales with strange endings. Good witches, bad witches. Sea gods. Mermaids. The Furies, Valhalla Rising by Nicolas Winding Refn. M by Fritz Lang. Nosferatu. The stories your grandma tells you as a kid that seem more true, still, than the bullshit you have to deal with as an adult.
CP: Okay. Go on.
CP: Vampires, the Polish painter Jacek Malczewski, self-portraits by Sofonisba Anguissola, the Kaisergruft in Vienna, carbon content, steel production.
I can never step off the path
But the force of magma is unstoppable
What you need. When you find it you recognize it right way. Not with your eyes, you just know. You have always only been looking for a worthy challenger. In work, and in life. Only then, can you move forward. Only then, can you play.