THE BLACK SWAN, THOM
AND THE CONSTANT CONCERN

inlagt av den 2016.07.11, under andras, citat, eget, grafik/digitalt, handling, omsorg, text
11:e

 

 
 
 
“This is your blind spot, blind spot/ It should be obvious, but it’s not.”

 
 
 
And that, ultimately, is the great preoccupation of one of our greatest poets of anxiety: a simple fear of the unknown. “People get crushed like biscuit crumbs,” he sings, and there’s nothing to be done about it. For all our human reason, we are unable to anticipate the things we really need to know.

 
 
 

 
 
 
Me (Daniel) writing:

When Albert Camus was writing about Martin Heidegger, Camus put some words to what he thought would catch Heideggers thinking. (I do not know if Heidegger himself had written or spoken about these words, but I have a feeling he had. He almost must have.)

 
 
The words were (first in English then in Swedish and then a strange translation to German).

 
 
 
The Constant Concern.
Det ständiga bekymret.
Die ständige Sorge.

 
 
 
Why do I write all this? Much of what I do with pen/camera/writing/blogging/and.other.shite comes from ”The Constant Concern”. It’s like entering the maze, kill the monster, pick up the thread but never ever find the way out.

 
 
 
Maybe Mr. Thom Yorke – his ZEITGEIST – Sensibility – causes pain, but causes creativity – SensibilityTheConstantConsern.
You will never ever in this world find a place that feels like home. Ah, ok, you never had that feeling. Well, then your probably blessed.

 
 
 
1-sdf

 
 
 
This is your blind spot, blind spot/ It should be obvious, but it’s not.

 
 
 

A SORT OF TRIBUTE TO MARK ROTHKO

07:e

radiohead

rothko

daniel

 
 
A sort of tribute to MARK ROTHKO.

1. Radiohead; Thom, Stanley Donwood. (Amnesiac album cover.)

2. Mark Rothko. (NO 14.)

3. Daniel Johansson. By me, none other. (Untitled.)

 


 
This post has been very popular on my Tumblr blog.

I forgot about it, found it and now it exists on the MOTHER BLOG. (that was a joke.)

ARTÉ FRÖM RAd1OH3AD.KOM

inlagt av den 2016.05.16, under andras, grafik/digitalt, inspiration, video
16:e

Radiohead: ”We asked some people to make short vignettes interpreting sections of our new record. First: visuals and programming by Tarik Barriwww.tarikbarri.nl.” Tariks Radiohead work is on the bottom of this post. The other 2 stills are probably done by Stanley Donwood and Thom Yorke.

 
rh2

rh1

 
More from Tarik Barrii soon.

HUNTING BEARS. PART ONE.

inlagt av den 2016.05.02, under andras, eget, grafik/digitalt, inläggsserie, poesi, text
02:e

young. every things open. possibility’s enormous open, it is open why does it feel like a greek tragedy why do i know what will happen when i feel so alive? snakes and ladders is a game i always have lost. they tell me to climb up. but why does it feel so good to climb down? it will be hard to come back, they say. but i wasn’t even listening.

Psychiatrists are mosquitoes and not tigers.
Swedish authors Vilhelm Ekelund and Maja Lundgren knew this.

 

 
RADIOHEADCUTAHOLE

 

 
cutahole

 
 
 
 
BEARS!
 
 
 
 
 
 
RADIOHEAD_LOGO_T_SHIRT_IRON_ON_TRANSFER

KID A COVER DESIGN WALLPAPER TRIBUTE

inlagt av den 2016.04.20, under andras, eget, foto, grafik/digitalt, målning/teckning, video
20:e

KID_4096_2160

 
Feel free to download the full resolution wallpaper. Just click on the picture above and let the full picture load. Click the right button on the mouse and select ”Save picture as”. In most cases you can easily just drag the picture to your desktop.

The wallpaper is done by me, Daniel.
Some elements are done by Visual Relief.
The font is free to use.

Please watch this. It is the most beautiful video ever made. White mountains and fire in the distance.

 

INST

inlagt av den 2016.04.19, under bildserie, eget, foto, grafik/digitalt
19:e

IMG_1569

IMG_1570

 

MODESTMOUSE|THEWORLDATLARGE [JUSTLIKEME]

inlagt av den 2016.03.12, under eget, inspiration, text, under arbete, video
12:e

 
A extremely sad song.

Nothing is enough.
New thoughts.
New place.
New boy-or-girlfriend.
New income.
New drug.
New philosophy.
New books.
New favourite band. ;)
New favourite song. ;)
New favourite soccer team.
New favourite soccer player.

New favourite nothing.
New ending of that which was new.
New starting for finding the new new.

My thought were so loud I couldn’t hear my mouth.
My thought were so loud I couldn’t hear my mouth.
My thought were so loud.

New dream of entering art.
nev dree m of eNter-ing the art by Stan art by Stanley Donwood beneathnedan and n3ver __COme backk .an th are © sail to the moon

 
stan

outs-13

INSP: RADIOHEAD – SPECTRE

inlagt av den 2016.02.18, under andras, inspiration, ljud
18:e

adasdas

 

 
1

2

THE COLLECTION OF ALL SIGHS IN ALL OF THE WORLD RIGHT NOW 151102 14:30

inlagt av den 2015.12.04, under andras, citat, fragment, inspiration, poesi, text
04:e

ddfad

axis_mundi

mushrooms_ghost

tree_seeds

asdfasdf

 
Today I am so tired that I feel like I am made of sand and can be blown away any minute.

Google Translate:

Idag är jag så trött att jag känner att jag gjord av sand och kan blåsas bort någon minut.

Google Translate:

Aujourd’hui, je suis tellement fatigué que je me sens comme je suis fait de sable et peut être soufflé loin d’une minute.

Google Translate:

Heute bin ich so müde, dass ich das Gefühl, ich bin aus Sand und entfernt jede Minute eingeblasen werden.

Google Translate:

今日は私が砂で作られていますし、任意の分を吹き飛ばすことができるように私が感じるように疲れています。

***

When night came, we fell to a brooding quietude, eyeing each other with suspicion, inventing justifications for our dark feelings.

And when I looked, when people moved in front of the windows in the grey light, their shadows cast quickly clattering dark talons across the floor. This only became worse as the light faded.

I forbade them from moving, as it had become impossible to tell shadow from shadow. Or shadow from human.

The disaster was coming. That was clear.

There were shadows everywhere.

When I was at last alone, when the people were all gone, I waited for the disaster on my own.

On my own.

***

Good morning Mr Magpie, how
are you today?
Now you’ve stolen all my magic
and took my melody?
You got somme nerve coming here.
You got somme nerve coming here.
You stole it off give it back.
You stole it off give it back.
Good morning Mr Magpie,
how are you today?
You know you should but you
don’t…
You know you should but you
don’t…
Open our mouths wide.
A universal sigh.
”So why does this still hurt?”
Don’t blow your mind with why.
Why does this not add up?
Don’t let it blow your mind.

Across a great divide.
A giant turtle’s eyes.
Jellyfish float by.
Your rules do not apply.
As open as the sky.
The holes we measure out.
It’s what keeps me alive.

Why does this not add up?
A spider to a fly.
A universal sigh.
A giant turtle’s eyes.
Don’t blow your mind with why.
The current’s just too strong.
Don’t let it blow your mind.
Across a great divide
The words between the lines.

None of this stuff is mine.
I throw my arms wide.
Open your heart and smile.
Don’t look so serious.
No need to pull that face.
Always I’m before you.
The cards that have been dealt out.
Moving out of orbit.
Turning in somersaults.
Ours not to reason why.
I’m reeling with this feeling.
Where er’r the current flows.
Precious little time.
Distances and time.
The wind takes all the leaves.
And then it will take me.
The parts we have to play.
I cannot help but laugh.

It’s like I’ve fallen out of bed from
a long and vivid dream.
The sweetest flowered fruits were
hanging from the trees.
Falling off a giant bird that’s been
carrying me.
Like I’ve fallen out of bed from a
long and vivid dream.
Just exactly as I remember.
Every word, every gesture.
I’ve my heart in my mouth.
Like I’ve fallen out of bed from a
long and vivid dream.
Finally I’m free of all the weight
I’ve been carrying…
Slowly we unfurl as lotus flowers.
All I want is the moon upon a
stick.
Just to see what is.
Just to see what if.
I can’t kick the habit
‘Just to feed your fast ballooning
head’.
”Listen to your heart!”
Good morning Mr Magpie, how
are we today?
Now you’ve stolen all my magic
and took my melody?

Don’t let it blow your mind.
Across a great divide.
A giant turtle’s eyes.
Jellyfish float by.
Your rules do not apply.
As open as the sky.
The holes we measure out.
It’s what keeps me alive.
Why does this not add up?
A spider to a fly.
A universal sigh.
A giant turtle’s eyes.

Don’t blow your mind with why.
The current’s just too strong.
Don’t let it blow your mind.
Across a great divide
The words between the lines.
None of this stuff is mine.
I throw my arms wide.
Open your heart and smile.
Don’t look so serious.
No need to pull that face.
Always I’m before you.
The cards that have been dealt out.
Moving out of orbit.
Turning in somersaults.
Ours not to reason why.

It’s like I’ve fallen out of bed from
a long and vivid dream.

The sweetest flowered fruits were
hanging from the trees.
Falling offf a giant bird that’s been
carrying me.

Like I’ve fallen out of bed from a
long and vivid dream.
Just exactly as I remember.
Every word, every gesture.
I’ve my heart in my mouth.
Like I’ve fallen out of bed from a
long and vivid dream.

Finally I’m free of all the weight
I’ve been carrying…
Slowly we unfurl as lotus flowers.
All I want is the moon upon a
stick.
Just to see what is.
Just to see what if.
I can’t kick the habit.

‘Just to feed your fast balloning
head.’
”Listen to your heart!”

UNHEIMLICH

inlagt av den 2015.11.28, under andras, citat, eget, helt jävla sjukt, inspiration
28:e

ssss

aa

sdsdfd

sdad

sdasd

48aa147d-e578-4a97-a153-8bdb6ee8bd20-2060x1236 (kopia)

THE BEAUTY, – THE TREES, A SQUIDS EYE

inlagt av den 2015.11.21, under andras, eget, foto, grafik/digitalt, inspiration
21:e

tree_dj

forest

Open our mouths wide.
A universal sigh.
”So why does this still hurt?”
Don’t blow your mind with why.
Why does this not add up?
Don’t let it blow your mind.

Across a great divide.
A giant turtle’s eyes.
Jellyfish float by.
Your rules do not apply.
As open as the sky.
The holes we measure out.
It’s what keeps me alive.

Why does this not add up?
A spider to a fly.
A universal sigh.
A giant turtle’s eyes.
Don’t blow your mind with why.
The current’s just too strong.
Don’t let it blow your mind.
Across a great divide
The words between the lines

12

Chiroteuthis_veranyi

 
 


 
Två bilder av mig (kvadratiska). En framgooglad bläckfisk. Resten kommer från The Universal Sigh.

RADIOHEAD VINYL AND DONWOOD ART

inlagt av den 2015.09.09, under andras, inspiration
09:e

 
I love these two tracks.
Side A: Supercollider. Side B: The Butcher.
Released on 12″ Vinyl for Record Store Day 2011 (16/04/11)
Limited to 2000 copies in the UK & Japan.
Both tracks play in this video done by
Zachariah Wildwood and Donald Twain.

 
Stanley Donwood:

bad-woods-1

bad-woods-2

bad-woods-3

REMIX-A-RESHAPIN RADIOHEAD STUFF. LIMBO WORK-A-SPACE.

inlagt av den 2015.05.24, under andras, citat, eget, grafik/digitalt, inspiration, poesi, text
24:e

1-sdf

2-dfsdfs

3-1

 
”This is a war universe. War all the time. That is its nature. There may be other universes based on all sorts of other principles, but ours seems to be based on war and games. All games are basically hostile. Winners and losers. We see them all around us: the winners and the losers. The losers can often times become winners, and the winners can very easily become losers.”

William S. Burroughs wrote those words. My thought: IF I WIN THEN SOMEONE ELSE LOSES.

He says that our universe ”IS WAR”.

So,

so when our planet is saved, we sooner or later want to play again. And this, all this – starts again!

An intellectual or philosophical REBOOT of the human race will not happen, don’t you agree?

But I hear music. It enchants me. Lilacs.
I love this earth. I love this feeling. May it never disappear.

LOST IN THEM MAZES. HUNTING BEARS. THE DEMONS. RED SKY. WHITE MOUNTAIN.

inlagt av den 2015.05.23, under andras, inspiration, video
23:e

 
The Video: Thom Yorke soundtracks Stanley Donwood for ‘The Panic Office’, a new exhibit in Sydney, Australia, that showcases the artwork of Stanley Donwood. The soundtrack is called ”Subterranea”.

INSP: STANLEY DONWOOD.

inlagt av den 2015.05.17, under andras, inspiration
17:e

5.0.3

5.0.3

 
Wait for bus
Bus doesn’t come
Give up waiting
Walk away from bus stop
Uphill through interminable housing estate
Over first stile. Four horses galloping
Rain stops. Hot
Path skirts hilltop establishment encircled with razor wire and chainlink fencing
Warning CCTV In Operation
Derelict house in middle of field
Roofless. Ivy-covered
Windows smashed or bricked-up with grey breeze-blocks
Echoing shouts seem to come from it
Downhill steeply
Mud. Barbed wire and brambles. Slippery
Still very high up. A buzzard flies below me
No wind. Crows chatter in the woods
Sun comes out
Cut a walking stick from a hazel copse
Easier on the muddy slope
Down into a valley over a stream
Chickens and ducks pecking about
Muddy field below an old church
Water gurgling and pouring
A sheep bleats in the distance
The ducks are watching me
They’ve alerted some geese
They stare at me
Suspiciously? I know. I shouldn’t be here
Old stony cart-track between hedges alive with birds bursting out as I approach
Old-mans-beard garlanded with red berries
Something has changed. Evening is pulling down the sun
Walk back up to the hills
Stalk about in a lumped field covering an old village
Traffic noise carrying easily in the stillness
A plaque tells me that hundreds of people died here fighting each other
Three hundred and sixty years ago
Suddenly it turns very cold
Warning Security Guards On Patrol
Cow field. Smell of hay and cow shit
Muddy track down into valley

 
 
Txt and pics by Stanley Donwood.

pagetop

  • LANDSKAP

     
    FRÅNVARO (Han)

     
    - har rymt, vet inte varför. Från yttersta ytterområdet slätten som nu ligger försvunnen i mörkret liksom översköljd av ett svart dånande hav. Iskall svart vind slår emot, våta fält, motorvägarnas avlägsna ljuskaos – springer, springer i riktning mot centrum där det ligger och lyser oändligt långt bort. Ständig Frånvaro.

     
    Tack till Birgitta Trotzig


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  • jag ser in i det gröna, yta i oändlighet, viskande oändlighet, viskningarnas kropp, tungor. det gröna är tungor och ögon, reflexer och rörlighet, fuktighet, ljusgnistor – på vad sätt är jag skild från det, jag är inte skild från det, jag är till i ett öga, allt är speglingar och viskningar, ljus i en mörk spegel vandrar längre och längre in i den speglade skogen

    Birgitta Trotzig

    Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)

    Walt Whitman

    Suppression and spinning of negative data and ghostwriting have emerged as tools to help manage medical journal publications to best suit product sales, while disease mongering and market segmentation of physicians are also used to maximize profit. We propose that while evidence-based medicine is a noble ideal, marketing-based medicine is the current reality.

    Spielmans GI, Parry PI. From Evidence-based Medicine to Marketing-based Medicine: Evidence from Internal Industry Documents. Journal of Bioethical Inquiry 2010;7(1):13-29. Available online: http://tinyurl.com/Spielmans.




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