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Survival In Auschwitz

when we talk about the art trove found at Gurlitt’s house, we also talk about these men, we also talk about the crime against humanity and to this day we, descendants of perpetrators, are committed and bound to the memory of the people who perished during the Holocaust, who were tortured and murdered in the concentration camps that our grandfathers built. we talk about these men and women and children as we talk about art works and the so called action “degenerate art” and about millions of dollars and legal and moral responsibilities.

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Children’s books and art

photo-2

In my work I feel inspired by artists like Jim Henson, Maurice Sendak, Edvard Gorey, Tatjana Hauptmann, William Steig and Uri Shulevitz who are often underrated in their artistic merit due to the fact that they have published work for children. The archetypical quality of a simple story or image can be very powerful. More recently I have come to greatly admiring the work of German artists Albert Schindehütte (Hamburg) and Einar Turkowski (Kiel). Both of these artists also chose to illustrate what one could see as children’s books but I suspect their work is being  cherished by children as well as by artists and people who love art. Their illustrations hold an inexhaustible, dependable pleasure for me.

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MONSTER Nr. 23

One wild thing: on closer inspection of these canvases you'd find bits and pieces of found objects enclosed such as children cherish. Pieces of beach glass substitute for teeth, small beads, glitter, all children I know love glitter!, keys and bottle caps and lost and found buttons. When did we forget to spin the dream, when did our world cease to hold small promises of meaning and adventure, a life time of stories still to be told? How did we grow up to forget the sensual richness of the world, the intense pleasure we can find only in simple things and moments. When did we cease to live today in order to reach for a tomorrow that we never truly know will exist - and if it does it comes only to be given up and traded in for yet another tomorrow until there is none anymore? When did we start squandering our present moments for squalid projections? When did we tire of that what we have , right here and right now, the word, the discovery of nothing and everything, the breath of boredom and adventure alike? Ask an expert what life could be like, go hunt for chestnuts and bottle caps and pieces of this and that lost and found. Talk to a stranger and as for their story, smile every once in a while even if convention doesn't require you to, lift your eyes up and look at the disorderly lines of roofs and antennas and imagine Karlsson living up there somewhere or go to your knees and pick up something that glitters without whisking out a disinfectant afterwards. Be a MONSTER. Breathe. There is still some life to be had. Laugh without any particular reason. MONSTER Nr. 23

One wild thing: on closer inspection of these canvases you’d find bits and pieces of found objects enclosed such as children cherish. Pieces of beach glass substitute for teeth, small beads, glitter, all children I know love glitter!, keys and bottle caps and lost and found buttons.

When did we forget to spin the dream, when did our world cease to hold small promises of meaning and adventure, a life time of stories still to be told? How did we grow up to forget the sensual richness of the world, the intense pleasure we can find only in simple things and moments? When did we cease to live today in order to reach for a tomorrow that we never truly know will exist – and if it does, it comes only to be given up and traded in for yet another tomorrow until there is no tomorrow left? When did we start squandering our present moments for squalid projections of who we could be if only? When did we tire of that what we have , right here and right now, the word, the discovery of nothing and everything, the breath of boredom and adventure alike?

Ask an expert, a child no older than six, what life could be like if you’d find it again, go hunt for chestnuts and bottle caps and pieces of this and that, lost and found. Talk to a stranger and ask for their story, smile every once in a while even if convention doesn’t require it, lift your eyes up and look at the disorderly lines of roof shingles, chimneys and antennas and in your mind create a stage for a play that involves precarious acts of balance and skill. Think “Karlsson” by Astrid Lindgren.

Go down to your knees, seeking the perspective of a five year old,  and pick something from the ground that glitters just because it catches your eye – without whisking out a disinfectant afterwards. Be a MONSTER. Breathe. Laugh without any particular reason. Be the absolutely unremarkable, remarkable YOU you were born to be. Nothing more, nothing less. MONSTER Nr. 23

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Monsieur Petit et son chien

Monsieur Petit et son chien

Did you know he existed?
I didn’t until yesterday
when he materialized underneath
the tip of my radiograph.

There he was
demanding my attention
yet remaining oddly silent,

Monsieur Petit et son chien.
Eh, bien.

I guess he is out there
somewhere,
in fact, I am almost certain he is.

Perhaps you know him?
Perhaps you have met him,

if you have,
please remember,
next time you see him,
to convey a small message
from me?
I’d be much obliged.

Just mention to him
that his image has separated
from him like his shadow could not
and has adopted a small dog.

And ask him to please
watch out for the real dog,
flea-riddled and shabby as he might be,
the dog,
and take care of him,
and be kind to him.

And tell him not to worry,
he will recognize him,
once he sees him.

Ask very gently,
be persuasive with a hint of
severe authority.
It’s important because,
you see,

his image would much like to keep the dog.

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what is it?

what is it?

what i want to see in these images (and you might see something else, they are as much yours as they are mine): freedom, mindfulness, compassion. a furious gentleness towards life. i see old stories in new clothes. there are stones, there are shadows. there is a smooth path under a tree. and i can relate all this and then return to what i know. because what i paint and write is what i confess not to know. and yet it is not ignorance i serve but the luminous mystery of a letter, a line, a word, a constellation, 20 degrees south-east of the belt of Orion, 23 times more luminous, twice the mass and the diameter of “our” sun. what i know is that if i could indeed throw an object hard enough, it would escape gravitational attraction, that there is a black hole in the galaxy M87, and that freedom is attainable through our words and acts.

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What Travelling the World Taught Me About Patient Care

i read this blog regularly for its insightful and acute observations. the barefoot medical student almost runs a kind of small press here, putting much work and time into well researched blog articles. have a look at this article, for example, really regarding the way health care provider’s attitude towards their patients.

i couldn’t agree more with her. physicians need a patient’s cooperative consent in order for a successful treatment especially where chronic or vague complaints of ill-being are involved. I am convinced that most illnesses are not separable from complex environmental factors and the way a person is linked to it.

the regard other do or don’t have for a person’s value contributes greatly to their sense of well-being and will contribute to their quality of life and health. physicians without regard for the basic individual integrity reinforce feelings of helplessness. illness and the way we treat patients and people in general are often symptomatic of what is wrong with the environment in the first place and a hint at where to make some maybe small but none-the-less vital changes to treat a patient successfully and with a chance to make long term changes.

not touching a patient without their expressed consent in that sense might just be the first step to demonstrate that the patient is held in high regard by his or her physicians and the first step to her or his willingness to regain health.

barefootmegz's avatarMAC Awake

sas pt care

When I heard about Semester at Sea for the first time, I admit it was the idea of travelling the world that attracted me. I knew from a little bit of experience that travelling would enrich my perspectives and teach me more than any classroom, but really I was just thinking about all the places I had always dreamed of visiting, that could now become a reality.

Justifying such a long absence from campus meant that I had to identify teachable moments the program could provide. I came up with a whole report which I presented to my faculty (and which they miraculously accepted). I mentioned the virtues of travelling, and the work I would have to put in to carry a double course load, and then I mentioned the research I wanted to do: experiencing first-hand the public healthcare facilities in the various countries, as well as visiting…

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no lions in the bathroom! – 07/2013

that would make for a good general rule in life. or, at least, moderated by the term: no lions in the bathroom between the hours of 6.00 am – 9.00 am. after that they can frolic about in the tub to their heart’s desire.

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artist statement (mine)

this knowing “you are on to something good” is exactly where the artist meets the scientist. only that in general the scientist will be patient and disciplined enough to acquire the skills necessary to actually explore and eventually understand that unfounded suspicion and the artist will just take a cursory inventory of the idea’s implications and then take to the type writer (or the canvas) like the monkey, ready to blindly shell out the sequence of letters to actually and surprisingly eloquently prove that “it” was always known.Bild