Translated by Max Nemtsov
BRAVERIES TO DESERT
i wonder if ad posters for the contract military service at the gate of the our lady cemetery are considered by matthew krishanu as relating to the political the personal or the art historical don’t they really know what they do when they prepare camou- flage nets and trench candles in lobnya at peaceful st. what do you learn when you wake up from the summer two-story japan where you’ve never been into the neverland of temperature (this state was predicted as early as 1702 by the english physicist william thomson) like a continuing dream like a jerry-built hut in an empty nest the rectangles instead of painted over anti-war graffiti over graffitied walls along the railway tracks
in the morning returning from the night shift passing a white construction hard-hat on a tree-branch a branch of water blossoms with a head cast growing from an industrial wash-bowl it’s not all that bad if someone still has the bravery to desert naumanovskaya station simple movements dusty blinking traffic lights over the perimeter speaking about favorite artists you remember that cop who left his uniform on a tree in aktau
sitting in a fish-bowl of a control room like a detachable bag for gathering dust beyond the glass of that work by jeff koons overheard the pre-dawn rain rustling over trucks the sounds of the trucks loaded, no, of rumbling in the warehouse belly a gallery-owner of my acquaintance writes advice to collectors sasha skochilenko writes that her prison term made her mom closer to her not as a contraposition it was just the bing chatgpt reminding of that part of the ever17 visual novel where the ai of the r&d named sora spoke about the routinization in the depth below the manmade island
there will always be those who will paint on houses in abraham’s life places of worship occupied the key position be it a shame or an empty lot in general a search for missing persons among the admitted to the in-patient facility in an expedient manner for there among the children under the manmade island there will always be those who will paint on walls remaining of the houses the crucifixion by germaine richier saint jude by hirst