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.
You have permission to turn the page.

Odd References From Latin - 12/21/2010

Compose a small painting in red.
A witty brushstroke.
Painterly images of love and war.

Mathematical poetry is monotone.
Dark formulations of geometry suggest tension.
Is love eternal on the other side?

Laughter or thought.
A few seconds, or maybe two.
I decide not to spend any time.

Volumes of intertwined silence.
Grainy photos of early childhood.
Psychological portraits of minimal form.

Repetition makes the green lizard happy.