Abstract forever

[fabosch]

Сообщение от Art-lover

fabosch, stand in place and the conversation will overtake you: he's here now and then goes in a circle!

All wrapped the reins around the hitching post

(O Lord, and from the words in my head something like that?)

[Art-lover]

Сообщение от fabosch

All that wrapped around the bridle tethered
( O Lord , and where in the head , then those words ?)

The dynamics of communication processes in the topic prompted me to dedicate my day yesterday meditation on the painting of Turner VelaskOvicha , embodies the dilemma " Our locomotive forward fly "vs" The driver did not chase the horses . " For me, the dilemma was daunting - here , hang a picture here : maybe someone will get insight and will interpret what to do next .

Вложение 1198971

And , once we got the abstract discourse of equine bias ( by the way ,
noticed there yesterday fabosch, that he had tethering post white ? ) ) , spread a rare snapshot : Pollock paints a horse and rider by drippinga .

Вложение 1198981

[fabosch]

Сообщение от Art-lover

The dynamics of communication processes in the topic prompted me to dedicate my day yesterday meditation on the painting of Turner VelaskOvicha, embodies the dilemma "Our locomotive forward fly" vs "The driver did not chase the horses." For me, the dilemma was daunting - here, hang a picture here: maybe someone will get insight and will interpret what to do next.

And, once we got the abstract discourse of equine bias (by the way,
noticed there yesterday fabosch, that he had tethering post white? )), Spread a rare snapshot: Pollock paints a horse and rider by drippinga.

Art-lover, just do not get tired amazes me. Capriciousness crimps your thoughts are not inferior to whiteness of my tethered (although only from the back).
Your first picture I liked. Its true story I will now explain to you in times of serious thought. And the plot is so obvious that your intellectual stupor can be explained to only vtoroaprelskim othodnyakom. This is "the highway" came out a hero velaskesova glorious countryman and brandishing a spear meets racing "progress in art" in the absence of in these parts of windmills. Prodelyvavet all that he is in the name of the Beautiful Lady. Well, the name of this lady, as you've probably already guessed, if you already drank the brine, the most beautiful thing in the world: her name - Abstraction.
Incidentally, I remember as a young man reading a story that Lee Bradbury, then, whether Simak about how that's a knight with a spear from some backwoods went every evening to meet with a spear at the ready fast train, which seemed to him a monster
But the second your image is less than impressed. The only morality which has flowed out (no more cups) of this scene is this: if we say, Comrade. Guryev, that Comrade. Vrubel was one step away from becoming the father of abstract art instead of the venerable Comrade. Kandinsky, I am afraid he is very upset for us and with the same enthusiasm will be a pioneering Vrkbelya war, dragging the rope on their side.
Though Comrade enthusiasm. Gurieva I like it. More to such pionerov and, as would say our leader and teacher, life will become happier.
PS. Your message about my hitching post before I reached 10 minutes (probably also not entirely overcome the effects of employment on Friday). Generally the word tethering post, I somehow associated with the remarkable striped pole with a picture of Man of Venice. It's probably gondolovyazi? I remember at the Monet were also those striped poles in the foreground, but that is not found this picture in the internet

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Сообщение от Kostya77

Mama Mia ....
here some theorists Abstract!
You can attend?
"It's very interesting !!!

Yes sit, who are opposed, interpretation head tilt, and then the screen zagorazhivete.

That youth, had just arrived, and immediately sat in the front row ...

[fabosch]

Сообщение от Kostya77

Mama Mia ....
here some theorists Abstract!
You can attend?
<!--~ 3 ~ - "It's very interesting !!!

Yes sit, who are opposed, interpretation head tilt, and then the screen zagorazhivete.

That youth, had just arrived, and immediately sat in the front row ...

[Art-lover]

Сообщение от fabosch

Your first picture I liked. Its true story I will now explain to you in times of serious thought. And the plot is so obvious that your intellectual stupor can be explained to only vtoroaprelskim othodnyakom. This is "the highway" came out a hero velaskesova glorious countryman and brandishing a spear meets racing "progress in art" in the absence of in these parts of windmills. Prodelyvavet all that he is in the name of the Beautiful Lady. Well, the name of this lady, as you've probably already guessed, if you already drank the brine, the most beautiful thing in the world: her name - Abstraction.
Incidentally, I remember as a young man reading a story that Lee Bradbury, then, whether Simak about how that's a knight with a spear from some backwoods went every evening to meet with a spear at the ready fast train, which seemed to him a monster.
But the second your image is less than impressed. The only morality which has flowed out (no more cups) of this scene is this: if we say, Comrade. Guriev, that Comrade. Vrubel was one step away from becoming the father of abstract art instead of the venerable Comrade. Kandinsky, I am afraid he is very upset for us and with the same enthusiasm will be a pioneer for Vrkbelya war, dragging the rope on their side.
Though Comrade enthusiasm. Gurieva I like. More to such pionerov and, as would say our leader and teacher, life will become happier.

Have you read "The Dragon" Bradbury. Doubly magic atmosphere of reality, perfectly preserved in the translation of Nora Gaal - the mood in a way consonant with abstract surreal aspects of our theme. ) Yes, that's the story, just not long:

Читать дальше... 

There is no stir in the vast swampy plain, only a breath of night
Shakes low grass. For many years, no bird flew by
enormous blind shield the sky. Once, long ago, then pretended to
living small pebbles - they crumbled and crumbled into dust. Now in my soul
two people that hunched by the fire, lost in the desert, stirring
only one night, the darkness gently flows through the veins, smoothly, quietly knocking on
temples.
   Reflections of the fire dance on the bearded faces, shaking orange bursts
in the deep wells of pupils. Everyone listens to the smooth, quiet
another breath, and even hear, it seems like slowly, like a lizard
blinking eyelids. Finally, one begins to stir the coals with a sword in the fire.
   - Stop it, you fool, you betray us!
   - What is the importance - meets one another. - Dragon still uchuet us
from afar. Well holodische, Dear God! I'd rather be sitting in his castle.
   - We are looking for is not sleep but death ...
   - And what for? Well, what for? The dragon had never climbed into our
city!
   - Quiet you fool! It devours all who are traveling alone between
our city and nearby.
   - So let it be devoured, and we get home.
   - Shh ... Do you hear?
   Both froze.
   They waited a long time, but at night only trembled fearfully hides horses, just
velvety black diamonds, but just barely tinkled silver stirrups.
   - Oh and the place is here, - he sighed second. - Here the good do not wait. Someone
blows out the sun, and at once - the night. And even then, then ... Lord, you just
Hear! They say that this dragon from the eyes - the fire. Breathes white steam,
seen from afar, as he rushes through the dark fields. Carried in the sulfuric flames and
thunder and sets fire to the grass. Sheep in the fear rush helter-skelter, and, distraught,
gave up the ghost. Women give birth to monsters. Rage dragon shake the walls,
towers crumble and turn to dust. At dawn on the hills strewn with the bodies of victims.
Tell me, how many knights have opposed this monster and killed as
perish, and we?
   - Come on, sick of it!
   - How not to get bored! Amid this desolation, I did not even know what year
yard!
   - Nine hundred of the Nativity.
   - No, no, - whispered the other and blinked. - Here, on the plain, there is no
Time - only eternity. I feel that's run out back on the road - and
there is not so, the city is gone, people not yet born, stone
walls have not yet sourced from quarries, logs are not cut down the forests, not
ask how I know this very plain knows and tells me. And we
sitting here alone in the country, the fiery dragon. God save us and have mercy!
   - Holding the fear in my heart, but do not forget the sword and armor!
   - What's the use? The dragon is brought from nowhere and we do not know where it
housing. He disappears into the mist, and we do not know where he is hiding. Well,
put on armor, and met his death during armed.
   Not having time to fasten the silver armor, the second re-froze and turned around.
   On the gloomy side, which was dominated by darkness and emptiness, from the heart of the plains
broke wind, and brought the dust that flows through the clock, measuring the passage of time. In
the depth of this unprecedented vortex of the sun blazing black and flew a myriad of
burned leaves, plucked from the unknown to any autumn trees somewhere beyond
horizon. Under this hot swirl melted meadows and hills, the bone becomes thinner
like a white wax, blood mutilas and thickened, and slowly settled in the brain.
Whirlwind blew, and it flew thousands of troubled souls who are perishing. This was
dusk, enveloped in mist, enveloped in darkness, and there was no place for man, and not
was neither day nor the hour - the time has disappeared, leaving only the two in an impersonal
vacuum, in a sudden storm of icy, white thunder, that was coming in for
transparent green shield the descending lightning. The grass whipped rain, and
Again all was quiet in the cold darkness, in the breathless silence that are left
the living warmth that the two men.
   - Here, - whispered the first. - That's it! ..
   In the distance, miles, thundered deafening, roared - dashed
dragon.
   In the silence of both girded and sat on their horses. Pristine
midnight silence was broken menacing hiss, the dragon is rapidly
was coming in - closer, closer, over the crest of the hill flashed fierce fire
eyes, there was something dark, obscure, slipped down, writhing in the valley and
disappeared.
   - Hurry!
   They spurred their horses and rode to the nearest ravine.
   - He will be here!
   Hastily closed the horses blinders eyes and hands in iron gloves
raised their spears.
   - Good Lord!
   - Yes, we trust in the Lord.
   Moment - and the dragon doubled the slope. Fiery red eyes stared at the monster
them, the armor flashed red sparks and glare. With the horrific hysterical
crying and gnashing of dragon lunged forward.
   - God forgive us!
   Spear struck by the yellow eyes without eyelids, bent - and the rider took off from
saddle. The dragon knocked him off his feet, threw, to bend. Casually brushed black
hot arm of the second horse, and tossed together with the rider off for good
hundred feet, and they crashed on a huge boulder, a dragon with a hysterical
shrill howls and whistles roared on, all wrapped in red, scarlet,
purple flame, a huge soft feathers glare of acrid smoke.
   - Did you see? - Said someone. - Everything is exactly as I told you so!
   - Same, to a tee! Knight in armor, that's Strike me blind! We
knocked!
   - Did you stop?
   - Already tried again. I found nothing. Reluctant to dwell on this
wasteland. Horror picks. Something is unclean.
   - But someone we downed!
   - I whistled full swing, small could step aside, but he did not move!
   Whirlwind tore the veil of mist.
   - In Stokley will arrive on time. Podbros-ka coal, Fred.
   The new whistle shook the dew drops from an empty sky. Breathing fire and fury
night fast swept across the deep ravine, with acceleration and took the lift
disappeared, disappeared forever in the cold gave the north, leaving only
Black smoke and steam - and long melted into air, numb.

Thank you, fabosch, for reminding me about the story, very grateful for the rapid interpretation of the painting, and huge respect for the idea to replace the coffee with brine - from kreatiffa already head began to smoke.

Promise valiant abstraktobortsu and svetopoklonniku Comrade. Guryev, of course, was, especially on the first canvas, depicting a romantic rebellion luminous elements herald abstract Turner against the sanctifying hierarchy of earthly order light of the latent abstraktivista Velazquez.
In 2-x, then clear the eve of a major battle with the lord tehnozmiem.
Next trail interpretations diverge. Who is this glorious lytsar?
Razdobrevshy on borscht Dulcinea Cervantes' hero?
Or the new George, this time decided to decided to do a dragon magic wand?
Or in the saddle himself Comrade. Guriev, the last stronghold of members of the forum and all of humanity against the monster anti-art?
Wait, wait ... Yes, the battle is izbrazil artist? Would pose a rider said about his determination to put the stomach in an uncompromising battle? Rather, much raised arm with a rod like a gesture of greeting and testifies to the same half-turn to the audience - say, look: we - the new rulers of technocrats - dispassionately accept the imperative of time and the first to welcome the mirage of scientific, technological and cultural revolution.
Oh, and the tree at the right edge - not that a white tethering post??

On the b & w photos of fun kentavricheskoe similarity Pollock with the figure: head, back and shoulder - almost like a horseman, and lower extremities - almost like a horse. )

Now, having discussed the nuances, we must finally answer the basic question: who we still read and drive a horse to the driver?
Hey, is there anyone here who has brine is not over yet ...? )

[Сима]

Сообщение от "Art-lover

response to the basic question: Who we are still reading

I finally started reading from the end.
A long time to try, but was too busy.
Take commitment kerf from the outset.

[iside]

Сообщение от "Art-lover

Now, discussing the nuances, we must finally answer the basic question: who we still read and drive a horse to the driver?

Comrade Art-lover, read, admire, want more!

[DSF]

I'm reading.
Thank you Art-lover, that did not throw the theme after "Attack of the Clones

[fabosch]

Сообщение от Art-lover

Have you read "The Dragon" Bradbury. Doubly magic atmosphere of reality, perfectly preserved in the translation of Nora Gaal - the mood in a way consonant with abstract surreal aspects of our theme.

On the b & w photos of fun kentavricheskoe similarity Pollock with the figure: head, back and shoulder - almost like a horseman, and lower extremities - almost like a horse. )

Now, having discussed the nuances, we must finally answer the basic question: who we still read and drive a horse to the driver?
Hey, is there anyone here who has brine is not over yet ...? )

So it was still Bradbury. Well, yes, and he could guess what a glorious feeling of balance between two opposing worlds (and this is exactly because of what I remember this story so) - it's still rather Bradbury. It is very often the line between real and unreal is erased, or rather even say just canceled because of its irrelevance.
A separate bow for your thoughts on this roll-balancing with balancing well between the two worlds have psevdorealistov-protoabstraktsionistov. I wrote the previous post, sinful thing nothing like that had in mind, perhaps it was somewhere on a subconscious level.
Looked a closer look at your second picture, I must admit that this morning the absence of brine has played with the same professor. Pleischner a cruel joke. You're right - I just do not hurriedly entered, that the picture-then this miracle as well. And it was not in the formal roll calls on which you write. No, no, they are without a doubt, there are relevant and very good. But this feels so much more. A feeling that both of these figures (and agree that in the face of a rider we are certainly dealing with a "lyric hero" of the author) are moving in one direction (in all senses of the word). They are both familiar with the fascinating feeling neizvedennogo, it is quite positiveness premonition of something new, from which only physiologically in the stomach as much sucks. And if Mother knew the story did the subjunctive, it is just hard to imagine what would've done this elegantly dressed gentleman with a neatly trimmed mustache.
Finally, turn to your "basic question" (post-graduate course of wisdom, I have to phrase the "core issue" of another extension is not, except ... you know). First, here you are wrong, it does not the main issue, but only one of the ... ("And you're not the greatest of kings, but just outstanding, and only!"). Secondly, well, even if nobody reads, but "why would two noble donam not sit in a tavern ..."
Besides, as it turned out, we ladies, and even Kaki-and-s ...
And yet, on the basis of the above, I now wondered this question, and not look at it even now at this point - balancing between two worlds. As far as history is a common phenomenon - how many of these figures, where the tongue is hopelessly shakes about the numbers "0"? What do you think?

[Art-lover]

Сообщение от fabosch; 1584673"

What do you think?

fabosch, I say. Please forgive me for not having answered at once: You know how to deal with those causing numbness.
Legend will be on site this announcement - the good, the rules allow two days for editing posts)

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Сообщение от fabosch

First of all, here you are wrong, this is not the main issue, but only one of the ... ("And you're not the greatest of kings, but just outstanding, and only!"). Secondly, well, even if nobody reads, but "why would two noble donam not sit in a tavern ..."
Besides, as it turned out, we ladies, and even Kaki-and-s ...

And indeed, there may be some basic questions of noble donov except ohmuryat senorita Abstraction and remove the veils of Isis, lady? (iside, honestly the word, without ulterior motives)). Does that matter in any tavern foot forward ...
Spring, meanwhile, has to replace the tavern picnic, and a picnic better than on the sidelines - with the indispensable promenade on the Zone?
fabosch, will not refuse to make the company? Who would dare accuse the noble donov if one of the campaigns for the St.. Grail, they then override a walk in the room Hepp and Ning and offer a truthful account of his adventures attention of beautiful women and other donov?
And what else could be more conducive to conversation about the balance of worlds than this walk?

The horses? Hopefully, the briefing on the rules of drive from my youth I beg your genes, and rokokoshnye curls route (bypass to go - as will, and right - forever you reach) does not tire you more than a meandering chatter of your fellow traveler. )

Сообщение от fabosch

Well, yes, and he could guess, what a delightful sense of balance between two opposing worlds (and this is exactly because of what I remember this story well) - it's still rather Bradbury . It is very often the line between real and unreal is erased, or rather even say just canceled because of its irrelevance.
A separate bow for your thoughts on this roll-balancing with balancing well between the two worlds have psevdorealistov-protoabstraktsionistov
...
And yet, on the basis of the above, I now wondered this question, and not look at it even now at this point - balancing between two worlds. As far as history is a common phenomenon - how many of these figures, where the tongue is hopelessly shakes about the numbers "0"? What do you think?

Now, when we are in adequate space, I would like to clarify the question: does it concern only the above psevdoprotov or allowed vzeshivat All psevdoabstraktsionistov "(ie, artists, free to use along with the" pure "abstract associated with the real world of forms) - extending the time frame to the present day?