A Psychedelic Rise

About the end of December, a exaggerated hug made me fall, beating my head on the ground. In this way, some of the fish that live in my skull have found their small opening to fly away. My consciousness is spread in all the flying fish and now the fish are spread around, so part of my consciousness is now spread as well, flew somewhere.

That evening, my last rise started to help me during the bridge from the past year to the new one, with the wise company of a Psychedelic Knight.

I tried to draw some memories of that bundle of dawns.

The words are from Mayla, song by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeroes.

I also tried – again but never enough – to show this Psychedelic Knight, who has eyes that are doors for any flight, port for any flow.

We are The Dalì Progeny

There are some days when I think I'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.

Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dalí i Domènech

Felipe Lorandi Iturrieta Gonzalez
portrayed by Eta

More then once, people around said about me and Felipe that we look like Dalì and Gala. It's a kind of delicate matter, because I was always been the one to claim to be Dalì, but his moustache and the fact of being a male (this is cheating, by the way) bring more points to him. It sounds like an endless complicated topic, I know – and so important! Anyway, a tribute to Dalì was mandatory, for us. Especially after visiting the exhibition in Brugge, in June (just for coincidence, again: I don't know why, but often in my life I go somewhere and I find Dalì's art temporary in a museum, without knowing it before).

Felipe in the Station of Antwerp, going to Brugge

Me in Brugge – Portrayed by Felipe Iturrieta

Felipe in Brugge, just before visiting Dali's exhibition

Furthermore, I want to mention Emisfero Australe, a photographic project with the surrealistic painter Vincenzo Gualano by my hyperspatial plume Rib; you will see a huge gorgeous echo from Dalì there too, but me and her don't know anymore which is the consequential order of our connections, even if I can tell you that her art has a big influence on me (thank you again and again, Rib).

WARNING
The triumphant proud Vanity of this post is absolutely wanted.
[Rib is requested in the triumph too]

(Waiting the shooting)

 

About Nostalgia

The sane love knows how to let go the loved one on its way.

Don't switch a treasure in a tragedy.

And if sometimes you will find tears on your cheeks, your tears will be only the effect of being beyond the top of the joy.

Don't switch a treasure in a tragedy.

This the lesson that I learnt and that I must share.

The best 2012 pictures of 3voor12/Utrecht

My time as reporter is not so much, but I'm very honored to find a sketch of mine between the beautiful selected 3voor12/Utrecht pictures of the past year (thank you!).

I hope to be under a stage soon!

Tributes to The Rhythm

I started this illustration the 21th of September 2012, to say Welcome to the Autumn, as tribute of the Flying Fishes for the Fox (thank you for your wise patience), the Jackalope, the Unicorn of the Blue Star (we're waiting for you, girl).

Totems Tributing The Circannual Rhythm

When I was still sketching, the day was running out and I followed my call from the little forest here around the town where I cycle, Utrecht. That time I didn't found the forest and the day after my mission became to let fly a lantern: that's how this drawing started to wait on my table. I deduced that the Earth Rhythm that I was trying to celebrate was still far from my own rhythm (if I have one). But the End of a Year is much stronger and now I'm driving a shining horse that is finally letting me dance between my visions; finishing this Tribute and happily going between many works. Some of these new images are already part of this post – this appointment with the Thought – and something else has to wait a bit on my desk (but not too much, I wish).

So the next ring of the chain that I'd like to donate you is the short pilgrimage that I made with my dear friend John, going in Copenaghen to visit the Unicorn of the Blue Star and the Jackalope. It happened in November, still in Autumn.

I took these photographs in a special place that you can find in the Danish capital: the free town of Christiania.

The third and last ring is the homage to JulJackalope's and it's a fruit of tonight.

 

J u l i a  D r e a m

(Ah, Giulia, se ti tagli i capelli ti strappo la faccia, sappilo).
(Sì, li puoi spuntare. Solo spuntare, eh.)

•••

The Blue Star, the Jackalope and John going in Christiania

Should a good witch respect the circadian rhythm celebrating the Sun, ready for every right timing of the Earth and Multiverse, or is she made for confusing stumbling between day and night?