Fork In The Road - August 22, 2011

Fork In The Road

2011 - Mixed media on canvas

www.ErikVP.com

Here is a first draft of the story.

There is a fine line between genius and insanity. In the case of three intelligent but misunderstood penguins, their diagnosis was the later. Sentenced to life in a maximum security mental institution, the penguins spend their days locked in a room with blackboard covered walls. Their daily meals are earned by solving complex mathematical equations for the government.

Going crazy from boredom, the penguins construct an ingenious escape plan. The three escape with ease, and take their friend fish, and three large forks to ward off any guards. They roam the city in celebration, forks swinging in the air, and screaming out nonsensical poetry. Numerous attempts are made to capture the penguins, and their repeated escapes gain worldwide media attention and a fan club. The embarrassed authorities now claim the penguins never existed, and accuse the media of creating the hoax.

Just outside the city lies an old abandoned zoo. The animal cages and walls destroyed long ago, and all that remains is an iconic metal entrance gate and the word "ZOO". Inside the zoo lives a group of eccentric animals and their fearless leader known as the zookeeper. During an expedition thought the Amazon, zookeeper battled a giant Venus fly trap and narrowly escaped with his life, minus a left arm.

Zookeeper and his tribe of animals spend their time inventing technological gadgets, contacting extra terrestrials, and creating large scale art sculptures for public exhibition. Most of surrounding community consider the zoo an unofficial insane asylum and keep their distance.

One day the crazy penguins are spotted just outside the zoo. Two-headed giraffe wonders if they are dangerous with their forks swinging wildly. Zookeeper is intrigued by the penguins and wonders if he can persuade them to join the zoo. A perfect fit for our community, if I can just disarm them of those forks.

Zookeeper
(rides out on a unicorn to confront the penguins)
Greetings penguins.
Please surrender your weapons.

Penguins
(hysterical laughter, followed by all three yelling out poetic gibberish.)

We are three penguins with super powers

A collaboration between three

Fighting evil villains with forks

(more laughter)

He rides a mysterious pony

A one armed bandit and his mighty red shoe

Bad animals locked up in the zoo

If happiness is short, then we are happy!

(hysterical laughter)

Zookeeper
(Very annoyed by the penguins. Raises his giant magnet. Forks fly through the air, sticking to the magnet)
I too have super powers.

Penguins
(silent, in complete disbelief over the power of zookeeper's magnet)

Zookeeper
You have two options. I can return you to the nut house and collect a large reward, or you can join the zoo.

Penguins
(ponder for a moment, observing the large sculptures on the zoo property)
Do we get to make sculptures and contact UFO's?

Zookeeper
Absolutely, and you can entertain us with your poetry as well.

Zookeeper brings the penguins to a scrap pile inside the zoo and shows them a few sculptures for inspiration. The penguins immediately begin constructing, working non-stop through the night. Unicorn stands guard in case the penguins get any devious ideas.

The next morning, zookeeper goes to check on the penguins. All three are silent, and gazing up at their creation. Three giant forks, aligned in a row, prongs facing up towards the sky. Protruding from the ground, right at the crossroads where zookeeper and the penguins met. Zookeeper notices the sun rising directly above the sixth prong. The first day of June. Genius! Zookeeper smiles and walks away.

Beautiful Noise - July 12, 2011

Beautiful Noise

2011 - 20"x24", Mixed media on canvas

www.ErikVP.com

Polar bear goes hunting for dinner and discovers a mysterious box, frozen in ice. Curious about the box, he brings it to his friend Alligator, a connoisseur of strange artifacts.

Polar Bear

(eager to share his new discovery with alligator) 

Look what I found!

A mysterious box.

Alligator

(rides up on his three legged dinosaur)

It glitters like gold.

Where did you get it?

Polar Bear

(pauses for a moment, distracted by alligator's pet fish)

I was hunting for dinner and found this box frozen in ice.

There is strange writing on the sides. 

Alligator

(Alligator takes a closer look.)

Heiroglyphics, just like the pyramids.

A gift from the sky people.

Polar Bear

It makes noise.

Listen ....

Alligator

(completely mesmorized by the noise) 

It makes beautiful noise. 

I must have it.

Polar Bear

I will trade one of your poems for the box.

Alligator
Yes indeed.

A poem it shall be. 

Living in the literal sense
It's beautiful what people say
Simple things
More poetic than I thought

An occasional moment of coherence
I think subconsciously
Feel without feeling
Look without asking

Silent listening is good
The symphony of silence
An oasis of serenity

Sing a sad song.
Or maybe melancholic screaming.

Shhhhhhhh ......
Whisper softly

The beautiful sound of noise
Can you hear it?
Follow the pulse.
A natural rhythm of life, and death.

Polar Bear
(Polar bear hands the box to Alligator and gives him an enthusiastic applause.)
Bravo!

Alligator
(takes a bow)
Gracias senor oso.

(Alligator waves goodbye and rides off into the sunset)
Hi-yo silver! 

The Village And The Beats (F-Train to 2nd Avenue)

F-Train to 2nd Avenue

2007 - 11"x12", Mixed media on wood

The Village And The Beats

You ask a lot about the idea.
What do you think of is?

A creative outbreak.

To look back and say,

That was.

You're saying it.

People will say,

It was.

Because at least,

It was.

Compared to now,

Which I notice now.

You cannot, not notice.

It is the fact,

That is was so.

It's not good.

And if it isn't,

You know, the culture is.

There are technical things,

Which basically comes to people.

Not worried about was,

When was would never go.

This is one of my early paintings created a few months after moving to New York.  I did my first art exhibit in the East Village and lived there for a few weeks while searching for a place to live.  The poem was created a year after the painting, and it occurred to me today that they go well together.

Departing Gradually Into Tomorrow - April 2011

Departing Gradually Into Tomorrow

2011 - 8.5" x 11", Mixed media on watercolor paper

www.ErikVP.com

See the writings on the wall?
The delicacy of an adjective is intricate.

We tell ourselves repeated phrases.
Mental poems of traumatic experiences.
Absorbing pain through time.
Illusions fill the void.

Caught halfway through a dream.
The night is blue.
Painting bizarre landscapes.
Until the morning turns to orange.

A new intelligence brings clarity.
Sleeping feels good.

Today or tomorrow,
Beautiful is still beautiful.

Speaking In Tongues - April 10, 2011

Speaking In Tongues

2011 - 20" x 24" x 1.5", Mixed media on canvas

www.ErikVP.com

Look over your shoulder
See the duck?
She found solace in the dark.
A place for clear thinking.

When I close my eye,
Resonant voices plot a tragic story.
Rivers of ecstasy.
Arresting passages of the mind.

Sit in am empty room with two people.
A live exhibition.
Jagged scenes of beauty.
Ungodly singing during a Chinese exorcism.
You feel discomfort.

Do they know?
They don't really know.
And therefore don't know much.
Get to know.
And listen.

There are people who understand,
And people who understand something.
Stick figure images are the best kind of art.
There are three steps to being funny.
You know the first.

What is the function of the dots?
Visual distortion works best on a vertical plane.
Shifting the scale towards large or small.
Irregular or asymmetrical.
If one anticipates fear,
A tree will fall.

The concept behind more is more.
Time becomes the past,
And it will be so.

Deviant monkey.
A master of unconventional storytelling.
Improvise a poem, or lyrics in a secret language.
Conducting deeply moving folk songs.
Dark arrangements about sex, sin, and war.

Look carefully.
Implications of misfortune lie below the imagery.
Burning a hole in the future.
Seek refuge under the umbrella.

No More Sunshine - March 2011

No More Sunshine

2011 - 20" x 24" x 1.5", Mixed media on canvas

Consciousness is complicated.

You want to think about how.

Do you have to think about it?

Moral quandaries directly linked to evil.

Violence parallels loneliness in morbid times.

Relationships out of control.

The slippery stuff is most elusive.

Friend of a friend,

Or strangers looking for another kiss?

Beauty in a red satin robe.

Touched by love and passion.

Procedural voyeurism has a sinister undertone.

But what is perceived is not yet seen.

Several seconds passed.

A ghostly fragrance from the back door.

Where art thou?

I don't know, I said quietly.

Thinking, seeing.

High or low.

That line in the moonlight.

If you look away,

It glows.

Make a collage from left over DNA.

You can read stuff on the page.

Rhymes quoting exotic scripture,

Painted in red.

The words don't yet exist.

An overcast sky.

Feeling the fire and storm.

Golden tongues that echoe death.

Symmetrical compositions of silence.

Remember how it sounded?

Emotional propaganda of a saxophonist.

But what you hear is not blue.

I use the Brooklyn Rail newspaper as collage material in my paintings. I underline words and phrases within the newspaper collage and create poetry.

Quoting Nonsense With Exotic Tea leaves - Feb 12, 2011

Quoting Nonsense With Exotic Tea leaves

Wake up from a dream.
Unable to speak.
Misfortunes on the downtown F-train.
Feeling the complexity of perception.

You said to imagine.
I would have liked to.
Imagine the sound.
A tuning fork under water.

Experimental poetry is essential.
Stop to follow the footsteps.

I hear laughing.
Is somebody on the phone?

Erased to expose history.
One minute, five minutes.
I sat there dazed, thinking deeply.
The study of wall paneling.

I felt a mild sadness.
Shed a tear.
Time to see a psychiatrist.

Sitting in a rocking chair,
Next to the elevator.
Organizing weirdness is nearly impossible.

Can I be excused now?

Tiny Factory of Best Kept Secrets - 1/20/2011

Tiny Factory of Best Kept Secrets

2011 - 22" x 18.5"

Mixed media on canvas

Safety in numbers.
There is no such thing.
A city of eight or at least six.
Twice as many would be pointless.

This discovery occurred on Sunday.
Imagine a flock of dinosaurs,
A cemetery full of neon pink mushrooms,
And a titanium sunset riding the skyline for days.

Illegal jaywalkers can adjust traffic.
Cactus stick to people.

Here's what I suspect.
People raving about love,
Love to rave about people.
Purists love to hate.
Where can you get good taco in New York?

Not all the former are positive,
But I wouldn't mind coming back.
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