Still blue, it’s grey

blistering sigarette

of multiple endings.

Guglielmo Tell affect.

 

My eye

tear of marvel,

watery

in a serpentine flux

 

a group

of the most abstract creatures

mermaids, and humans, and me

painterly experience

in a doodled paper

 

it’s heads! I have seen it

before.

I like how wrong it feels

with its cuts and orange erasures,

an orgy of facial limbs.

eye eye dot dot

 

Is there a fil rouge here?

 

I see…

Fil blue, fil d’or

in a necktie

of moustaches: They Call it Paradise

 

Have this candy my friend,

(gaping mouths)

grotesquely bitter

web of movements

 

I read once that light was what made

landscape

in painting

become fantastic.

Now under my cap,

trapped.

No space for nature.

 

The arrow

Has landed in place

cupido move

and love triangles

 

explosion!

As I close my eye

 

.

.

.

 

splash

it’s pure blue

.

 

eye eye dot dot . °

 

the illusion of recurrence

proud quenchless flames in water

 

 

A note:

 

This text follows Boban Andjelkovic’s methodology of fragmentation. The speaking subject is

as scattered as the caricaturesque characters appearing in the artist’s work. The references

are brought away from their context and altered to the point of non-recognition, following an

inner logic of failing repetition that allows each sentence to exist both as its own – thus

referring to a single painting or drawing – or as part of a group. The motifs follow the

paintings, digital animations and drawings that populate the show, and try to observe these

from multiple directions, in a cubism fashion shall we say. As it often happens with

Andjelkovic’s pictorial practice, I hope this text can allow the gazing eye to further experience

a moment between figuration and abstraction, beginning and end, existence and

disappearance.