Electric Eclipse

The electric spider weaves his web of static neurons

Creating an eclipse of memory

Burst into a spiralling galaxy

Reminded of auroras beyond what is seen

Digitally formed by malignant fingers

Creeping along is the thunder wire

Twisting and slithering through holes in time

A pattern is born from particles of nothing

Complexity at its finest

Bursting with vibrant colours

A thought which resembles the universe

Memories

Monuments encompassing valleys of time

Lapsing synthesised vectors from reality

Creasing the warm fabric of our universe

Swallowing lifeless righteousness

Unpredictable rotations in every imaginable angle

Breathing essence into single dimensions

Varying oddities which desire holographic nectar

Faking sequential geometry via the dripping asteroid belt

Realising it is all revitalising the process of life

Letter to the Editor

I am writing to show my disgust at an artwork featured in this year’s Archibald Prize at the Sydney Art Gallery. I saw this one artwork which looked horrible. It appeared to be some African woman with a bird on her head. Now, to me, when I look at this painting, I think… blank. The title of the portrait is Song Ling and it’s painted by Angelina Pwe. I really don’t understand how such a simple painting can get into such a prestigious event. This is the Archibald Prize we’re talking about here. I want to see Rembrandts, not Picassos. This work is so shockingly hideous, it makes me want to puke my guts up and hurl them through the artist’s house window. I beg the judges of the Archibald to choose next year’s paintings a lot more wisely.

Thank you, and goodbye.

Art

Today I went to the Sydney National Art gallery place and the Museum of Contemporary Art once again with school. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think art these days is completely different. I’m going to assume you’ve all already realised this is a fact anyway. Some works, to me, don’t even seem like art. They appear to be a pile of nothing.

I really like a lot of the old paintings from around the 1800’s. Those were beautiful. These days, great artworks are few and far between. Though some are very different, I really seem to enjoy certain installations.

For instance, today at the Museum of Contemporary Art, there was one installation which striked my fancy. You walked through a curtain into a room which was dimly lit. Jimi Hendrix was playing and slides of him were being projected onto all the walls. There were large, fancy hammocks strewn across the room. The lazy atmosphere flew throughout you and created a senseless feeling. For ages, I lay there with my girlfriend, the hammock rocking slightly. We were one with the artwork.

At the National Art Gallery, there was one installation also which I liked a lot. It was a dark room, illumintated slightly by black lights. There were white strings which glowed blue (due to the black lights) around the room arranged in a grid like pattern which occasionally moved from side to side.  Now that was awesome. It felt like I was in some computer or a dream.

It’s hard to find good modern art at times, but these two installations caught my attention.

Bye for now.