Now tell me . . . / Vertel eens . . .

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Now tell me

“Hello Doctor, / come in and / please be seated.”

(a moment of silence)

“I prefer we get / to business / right away.

Now tell me:

what use / were you / for society?”

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Vertel eens

Hallo Doctor, / kom binnen / en neem een stoel.

(een moment van stilte)

“Ik kom graag / meteen ter zake.

Vertel eens:

welk nut had U / voor de maatschappij?”

An easy path? / Een makkelijk pad?

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Obstacle

Wandering in the forest / the frst impression was / to be confronted by obstacles. //

However, at close inspection / the elements had been constructed /

to bridge a gap.

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Obstakel

Dwalend door het bos / was de eerste indruk / te stuiten op obstakels. //

Maar, bij nadere inspectie / bleken de elementen te zijn ontworpen /

om een kloof te dichten.

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Do not enter

The medium is clear / that of mixed-media. //

The intention, no … /

the aim is to provide / an easy path through the delta /

of my inner meandering.

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Ga niet binnen

Het medium is helder / dat van gemengde techniek. //

De bedoeling, nee … /

het doel is het verschaffen / van een makkelijk pad door de delta /

van mijn innerlijke kronkels.

 

(text and photographs (c) Drager Meurtant, 2017)

Wrong mindset

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Motive

Over the past months, I had to adress problems of the mind. Outside of me (see “Neighbour”) and inside me (see “Pressing”)

Motief

In de afgelopen maanden, moest ik aandacht geven aan een aantal problemen van de geest, in de omgeving, zie “Buurman”, en van binnen, zie “Drukkend” )

(1) Neighbour

“My neighbour is a person / with some fixations.”

“Mijn buurman is iemand / met fixaties.”

 

(2) Pressing

My thoughts / are creeping in front of me / in the twilight,

between coiling branches / of bushes left and right,

aimless / and estranged.

And I’m stuck and / bound / by the channels that /

I feed.

Drukkend

Mijn gedachten / kruipen voor me uit / in het schemer,

tussen de kronkelende takken / van struiken links en rechts,

doelloos / en vervreemd.

En ik zit eraan vast / gebonden / door de kanalen die /

ik voed.

(01-07-2017, (c) Drager Meurtant)

Contemplations

In this posting, some contemplations are given (form poem + image, in English and in Dutch)

(1) Feather

When I escape through a narrow / cleft, dancing, / the reproach will resonate / that I evade God. // When this poems falls / touches ground, / the earth will not tremble. // Light as a feather / writes my pencil.

Veder

Als ik de dans ontspring, / zal het verwijt klinken, dat ik God ontwijk. // Als het gedicht valt, de grond raakt, trilt de aarde niet. // Vederlicht / schrijft m’n pen.

(2) Need of War

Now what / if they want to take this stronghold? // Then there is no other choice / and blood will feed the soil / and our sons and daughters will die / for the great honor / of serving the mighty ME. //

But what, if there ain’t nothing in it? // Then their death will be in vain / and even more to admire.

De noodzaak van oorlog

En wat te doen / als de vijand deze versterking in wil nemen? // Dan is er geen andere keus / en bloed zal de bodem voeden / en onze zonen en dochters zullen sterven / voor de grote eer / de machtige MIJ te dienen. //

Maar wat / als er niets in steekt? // Dan zal hun dood ijdel zijn / en des te meer te vereren.

3. Beyond the earth

Beyond the earth / there was no sense / of black and white. // There was no recollection / and no mirror. // There was only / a void of movement / and lice.

Voorbij de aarde
Voorbij de aarde / was er geen besef / van zwart en wit. // Er was geen herinnering / en geen spiegel. // Er was alleen / een leegte van bewegen / en luizen.

The wholeness of elements

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An essay as Drager Meurtant, titled “Assemblages: the entrails explained”, has been published end of 2015 in Axon Journal Issue 9 (on assemblage, free on line access).

In the form of a poem, the essence of creation of assemblage can be formulated as follows:

Painting elements

Elementary pain / fits the precisionist. // When hammer hits thumb, / the outcry / of the artist / becomes the glue / of the assemblage. // And paint / drenches the pieces / into steady oneness.

painting elements

Assemblage, wood, metal, glass, paint; http://www.meurtant.exto.org (2014, in private collection)

Installations are different.

This artist must take more time to get to the essence of installations. Here are just two examples (first image, then text):

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Drone just landed in a meadow

This drone does not spy nor harm / except blades of grass / and only if pushed.
(One unique printed photo on aluminium available at 36 x 28 cm, 2013)

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Bao Strictcontor

In particular / at the end of day / is the bao strictcontor / subspecies Grohe / at its deadliest. / The bite can come / from the crane-shaped head / and also the circular mails / of the many tails / contain a stealthy poison / that at long stand-still / causes death of veterans. (80 x 40 x 25 cm, 2013)

 

One-hunderd-thousand miles away from nothingness

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On some occasions, one comes at a particular place or view, that appears empty, or even dull. Yet, at longer inspection, and at closer look, elements arise, that have ‘content’, or background. At further consideration, connections and interplay become visible, that demonstrate that the place (or view) is far from being empty, and its image fits within the theme “one-hundred-thousand miles away from nothingness.”

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Road to emptiness

I looked around the corner / and you can accept my word for it / this road leads nowhere / or atmost, it leads to emptiness.

(images 1, 2 & 3 made during walk in February 2015)

“100,000 miles away from nothingness”. if you type that phrase, and search for it on the world-wide-web, a band by the name of ‘cult to follow’ appears. with a song this is nicely written, but the opposite from what I want to express.

That is, to imagine – by light-writing or photography – the state of nothingness, that was around before. Before we were, before our ancestors were. A state that lasted eons longer than the minutes of our life.
Concrete: can you from time to time make a photograph that has so little noice, sound, surface, that terms like ’emptiness, idleness, nothingness are approximated. If so, keep still…

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Black heap and no more

(could talk more than one hour about what’s more)

 

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Shattered

Whether these are memories / or reflections, /  that does not matter. // When frames crumble /  or even pillars tall / then both memories and reflections / will rumble and fall.

 

Imagination helps. Thus, when arriving at a spot where not much is happening, figures may appear, that start talking….

forgotten

Forgotten

P: “You forgot something.”

Q: “What are you saying?”

P: “You forgot something.”

Q: “That’s what you think.”

passing a demolition site, April 2015

About light

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Drowning / Verdrinking

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When light falls / on the surface / it hesitates half a second / before drowning

Als licht valt / op het oppervlak / aarzelt het een halve seconde / alvorens te verdrinken.

(And a second thought / En een tweede overdenking)

Piles / Stapels

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One by one / I will withdraw / the words spoken / until this poem / is an empty hull.

Eén voor één / zal ik de woorden terugnemen / die zijn gesproken / tot dit gedicht / een lege huls is.

(And the last consideration for today / de laatste overdenking vandaag)

On Guard / Op Wacht

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There is one dog / on guard. // And that is more / than enough.

Er loopt één waakhond. // En dat is meer / dan genoeg.

One poem – Eén gedicht

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(in English)

Crossing

The images that cross / the web of / my experiences,

at times get stuck in / old scars, without / paying attention /

to gates or / prohibitory signs. //

Those images do not / shed light or give/ clarity. //

Those images burn / their shadow on / the projection of /

memories.

 

(In Nederlands)

Kruising

De beelden die kruisen / door het web van / m’n ervaringen, /

kunnen vastlopen in oude / littekens, zonder / acht te slaan /

op hekken of / verbodsborden / geplaatst uit lijfsbehoud. //

Die beelden geven geen / zicht of helderheid.//

Die beelden branden / hun schaduwen op / de projectie van /

herinneringen.

 

Collage:

A World cut to pieces – Een wereld aan stukken

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note: elements from travel guide of Yugoslavia (1980)

nota: elementen uit reisgids van joegoslavië (1980)

(c) Drager Meurtant, April 2017

Death on the internet

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Existential information

From time to time I check old emails, to see which of these at that moment has become obsolete and can be discarded. On some such occasions I may decide ‘to give it a try’: and will send an email to find out whether the connection still exists. And at the age past sixty, the occasions occur with increasing frequency on which the server responds with a text like ‘this address is not known at ‘YouMailMe-dot-Com’. Or, somewhat more striking, a reply comes with a text like this: “Thank you for your mail. My father died one year ago but we kept this address for a while, in order to inform those people we had not been able to locate to send a notice of his death.”

When posting photo’s on websites like www.flickr.com, I noticed another phenomenon typical of the digital era, expressed by the message on such website (or group within the website) that you and I visit, telling: “welcome <back> dear guest. And let us not forget the good work by Verena Ashley Connover (name invented by DM) who left us, but whose photos you still can find in the postings of our group”. Or, “Remember Verena, whose album we still cherish with joy”.

Some time ago I wrote a comment to an artist, via his website containing artwork that appealed to me. My words were aimed to express my appreciation, and a few weeks later were answered by a reply to my mailbox, telling that the artist’s son, out of esteem and admiration for his father, kept the website online for continued digital accessibility of his father’s artworks.

With graves in my country being excavated often at 50 years or even less after burial, one may wonder at which time the heirs of an individual might decide to stop such a website, or when welcoming messages like the above are erased/deleted.

My perception became more grounded, that a search nowadays on the web for signs of (life of) someone, with increasing frequency results in the impression that the person is indeed alive and kicking, whereas the truth is different.

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The creation of a memorial

It is of course, an option to transform the website of someone that died, or the account of a deceased member on a social medium into a place to commemorate. When I searched the internet some months ago (April, 2016) with the words “a website to commemorate”, there was an immediate find.

And next, dear readers, I tested the web what it would produce for the words “death on the internet”, and no surprise, there is a Wikipedia page appearing. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_and_the_Internet).

In it, the phrase can be found “As the Internet age progresses it will come to a point where inactive accounts of deceased people will outnumber those of active users”.

And focus is on the position / attitude of several social media and large email providers, as to how these deal with the death of stakeholders.

For heirs and sometimes friends of a deceased, the responsibility arises how to deal with the digital inheritance, next to the need to organize a proper farewell of a friend or family-member.

The Wikipedia page mentioned above, even indicates the existence of organizations that safeguard one’s ‘digital inheritance’ and which only yield access to those persons that have been supplied by an ‘activation code’ by the holder during his/her lifetime. See it complimentary to the testimony you have arranged.

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wired 

The unknown death

The above situation, of people that at first sight may seem alive, but only their presence on the internet has remained while their physical presence has ended is paralleled by a gap that will persist for the next 10-20 years. And now I’m talking about people of the present time, that do not exist on the internet. They have no account. They do not belong to people of whom a company or newspaper will announce a in memoriam after their death. These may be schoolmates of me, that I search for traces of digital existence, and no such trace is to be found. And we tend to forget that some people have no digital existence.

This short notice has no motto, no advise. It is just aimed to express my surprise.

(c) Drager Meurtant, 28-01-2017