User:Luni/Thematic Seminars

A silent conversation with a nameless artist,

That lived in an ‘cut and paste’ apartment,

Rented on a nomadic planet.

He was observing far away worlds

In the studio

Creating rituals through dissolving elements.

To write stories –

He used

Do-it-yourself technologies.

As we were talking - The streets grew emptier, The shadow on his face kept silent.

He said Storm was finally coming. And continued to work.

As we were watching the sky – The clouds made it darker My eyes getting tired.

After another silence or two, A coffeepot and ten or thousands of cups I dozed off for a while.

P.s. I hope the artist will not find out I wrote this poem about him. He doesn’t like that much to be in the center of attention. If you are ever in luck to meet him - please try to find out why he is writing his texts in red only (he won’t tell me why). If you will try to find him – try looking in an empty night streets of Rotterdam (or any other city) as he likes wandering at night. There is a very big chance he will see you first (or perhaps already did), and before you know – short story will be written, and/or a movie will be made based on his observations.