In the shadow of Medieval time, by the distorted way of modernism, art and religion had burst out into a violent crucified movement...

...and, the grotesque novels and stories had aroused the aristocracy or the monarchical society. The peasants who eluded it, since it meant garbage to them, were tortured and executed. Compartmental Man's life was viewed by these modernists as some filth that they could not imagine; but, they thought that it make sense for the poor to bark like a dog. They hold the idea that the subjects of an autistic artist, drawings on the mystery of darkness, in which his speechlessness was exagerated, was emphasized in his depiction of revolt against reality. Compartmental Man would like to identify his collection of images in drawing; because, these images came back again, and again as he remained outside reality, even when he was not looking on at any conceivable description of an object or a thing. From classical period, artist had measured the figure with a pencil, begining with a point, like the head, to the vertical/parallel distance. Everything was seen from a visual perspective point of view. But Compartmental Man, with the very same tradition, could not begin from any point of view; he could not travel in this direction which he regarded as a cyclical movement, not a straight line. The classical and modern drawings had a uniformity of aesthetic treatment, Compartmental Man observed that the figure was depicted or drawn into one dimensional limitation. It was a short dimension...

...and, in that age, and in Compartmental Man's age, the history of the poor in the govermental affairs has shown the evolution of impoverished life. That is to speak of starvation in poor countries. In every country, the social victims differs only in the number of deaths. They are persecuted. Compartmental Man desired to speak of the struggle for existence, and the vision of hopelessness similar to those of the poor, but the dryness of his heart has been irrigated by the false religious-water of the Nile. In his vision he sees the picture of the sky, without the clouds, without the shade of darkness, so empty and so blue. His eyes gets filled with freedom for the first time. The sky is his canvas, and his drawing of the poor is depicted there, he draws and draws, night and day, because he sees the impoverished-figure under the colored sky as the light that flows from his art.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Compartmental Man has treated each figure with linear dissection, like a ray and long linear movement of the sun, without the sacred -gold reflections of classical art, as the bourgeois dresses of the prince and princess fashionable dresses, who spend in their time in morning and evening prayers, for both golden sins and prayers aesthetically harmonized with one another, whom their court Spanish and French painters imitated. In American art, aesthetic imitation, in romantic sense, is the full expression; they have never change the color or the fold of the dress in a different way, everything is rendered in a clasical form. The golden years of American art is a tribute or homage to the king of England. The American landscape has been romanticised, the Grand Canyon lost its beauty and magnificence. It's a dirty painting. Compartmental Man is not impressed. He says that American art is not mounted to a different sky or light;it has not changed because it conveys a colonial form and a vision of imitation, and in this crooked perspective of seing nature and art, death begins, and impotence will spread out its wings like a disease. Compartmental Man is an autistic person, he cannot say a word, but he speaks the truth in his art. He make up for it in a miraculous and imaginative way, his tonque is weak as the breathless dying-creature, but he will not lie to his art. Art is his life. Art embraces his world of silence; and, as he screams in silence, he raises not the tone of his voice, but the beatings of his heart, and while the echo receded beyond the light he immediately created the whirlwinds of dissectional art before it disappeared forever. He did not want to catch the light. He want to capture and draw the echoes of a vanishing dissectional silence. Art gives him the energy to draw the poor, it is something that makes the mystery of suffering find a spark of the light and silence in darkness, and in the liveliness of the light, he elevates the poor into the aesthetic colored-sky, while the garbage life of silence licks their heart - a palpitating heart, deeply wounded and weak, and worse than that, all kinds of impoverished-pain has wretchedly bitten it, like a bite of flying-snake drilling through Compartmental Man's heart.

Compartmental Man was not alone in the silent scream of his consciousness. He had always fought against darkness, he could not help it, not for his defence but for the unhappiness on drawing on darkness, without the light and the shadow of his oppressed images, he tried to looked at nothing in which life was created. His drawings were swept away by darkness. He was not surprised that his depiction of light and dark had no contrast, because he saw the figure in a disectional movement; and, there the shadows of contrast had descended not in harmony but in a compartmental spaces of linear- rays of life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sat in darkness, without a drawing table, a small light was sqeezed tightly against a window, into a corner next to a cockroach by which its shadow was reduced into a clusters of dust, without a sign of life. When a vanishing light fell on my paper, saturated with pale images of the window's diminished-reflective shadow, I expected a long battle against it. There was conflicting images between this shadow and my figure, that united in my vision or perception of creation, I looked at the part of the figure to convinced myself that it was mine, not the shadowy images, and it was a long examination that had reached to the full extent of my wary vision. I was cautious to dissolve or terminate my figure with the sultry condition being brought by the weakness of the light, I could not left it behind this darkness, I had to dissect all the figure's existence, including its own behavioral movement. I never talked to myself or to these images, because drawing it or creating it was not easy, it was a struggle against a mysterious life, whose frail difusive-existence rested in motion on my drawing; after all, I am not the right person to tell them a story, I am an autistic rebel. I never told myself a trace of experience about my drawing, but it was not strange or obvious to have had a conversation with a work of art, something lyrical or critical, with the timid images of life or the pseudo-modern art critic, who had not known anything about creativity but chaos, abstraction and reductions of nature and art into a senseless minimal-ism or dismembered expression as in fragmented conceptualism.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The dried-dung-aesthetics of the modernists' or avant-garde's distorted figure

Dissectional drawing is a natural creation, not an aesthetic impulse of immediacy or of reflected images, but a tormented struggle to depict the wretched sight of the poor in a capitalist or communist societies, the rich global world of the few, and it arise only out of the toxic heat beneath the garbage mountain, out of the depth of garbage consciousness, not enraptured or enkindled by the great passion or foolish desire to create the derivative parts of anything, for instance, a found-object that emerges in dadaist garbage or cubistic static drawings, as it applies to self-expression, is no more, and no less meaningless -even the drawing is done or created in its modernistic form by the avant-garde artists, like Duchamp, Matisse and Picasso. Picasso is described as the greatest moderrnist, but his drawings never find the right perspective; it is a mixture of distortion and weak linear effect. Picasso, like Van Gogh , Matisse, Cezanne and Duchamp, cannot draw the figure. The artist who never sees drawing as a succession of ceative movements or which, at any reality of the diversities of the social cause and feeling of wretchedness around, based on whatever moral principles, may not be able to deal with the love and hate relationship of creativity in the life of drawing a figure, a man or a woman.

The Abstract Expressionists, Willem de Kooning and Jackson Pollock, and the Pop Artists like Andy Warhol and Jasper Johns could not express in paper or canvass a figure that glowed in darkness, or pertaining to differences between figurative art and figurative abstraction of life - which is absolutely displaced by line, form and color as in the figures of Impressionism, Dadaism and Conceptualism. Pollock drips his paint on canvass, thrown off from the linear movement, in circular motion, below, but he draws the movement of life's energy in abstract form which indicates the degree of non-figural dimension. Where is the middle figure? Pollock has no image of figurative life connecting the aesthetic friction between light and shadow, between old and new to depict the aesthetic validity of spatial unity. Pollock's drip-painting is like a spaghetti painting, abstractlly linear, but in the very modernistic sense in which the line is drawn in motion, plunging downwards, the figure is lost and everything falls or dives into a swelling monotonous-form and coiled into a spiral emptiness of a painting like "Lavander Mist,"and darkness. Willem De Kooning, painting in the opposite direction of abstract forms of expressionism, has thought of the figure that can be a central part of his painting, but he would not dare to go in different direction to construct the figure as whole without distortion. It is the purity of color that he mixes with the figure, because he was aesthetically afraid to come near to its reality, to join the upper and the lower, without abstracting it. De Kooning cannot draw the figure as a whole. The woman concelead by colors is clottered in his abstract expression. Andy Warhol's figures are half-baked silckscreened portraits of celebrities. These portraits are not aesthetic figures. These are silk-screened portraits, not art. They are modern high society and a face of communism, like Mao, who was duplicated in the forms of a pop- frame of modernism, covered with silkscreen in different directions. Andy Warhol have no idea of how a figure might might looks like without the help of the screen process. Like De Kooning, Warhol is aesthetically afraid to draw the figure in two or three dimensions. Jasper Johns is drawn over stripes and stars, a joint aesthetic effect, but his figures are like ghosts. They are oulined by emptiness, like his "Flag" paintings. The uniformity of the stripes and the stars to form a picture of the United States flag in a modernistic degree,and this he does this under the expressive idea of art for art's sake, is indeed irrelevant. This is a repetition of the Flag" in a smaller scale. This painting represented a decorative symbol of American modern art, broken into aesthetic divisions of line and color. As for the figure, and his relations with mankind or Ameican ethnic diversities, all that is lost - descend into deep symbol of modernism.

Artist study a figure, like a doctor who he examined the patient's anatomical parts, he wants to memorize what he shall see in the begining and at the end, conscious of his superiority, he never doubt at the dissecting table to make a mistake, so he tortured the patient's body, but in the end, he operated the wrong side of the body, because he did not see the negative part of the equation or of the two-sided reality, left and right. Some doctors, like the nodernists or avant-garde artists, are positive artists, not negative creators, because their works are notable for the idealistic references in the reflective translation of existing images which are fragmented and reverse like a one-sided reflection which a mirror projected in front, not behind the subject; and, this kind of artistic work is based on self-expression, art for art's sake, grotesque bitterness and astigmatic anguish. Shakespeare did not see the back of the poor's mysterious reality, the dark images behind the bright nonsensical plays of his era, that stands behind a faded time; and, the poor which fills the darkness of the oppressive night with unpleasant movement of a dissectional life, not modernistic chaos and meaningless tragedy, are assembled at back-stage. Shakespeare did not hear the poor's silent cry for the light, perhaps he knows nothing of what we mean by the light, then there will be more disagreement on both Einstein's and his tragic relative matter. All this, according to the poor, leads up to the death of modern tragedy. It has been dead since the begining of colonial age.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Compartmental Man's art is an art without a new profanity in the sense of modern direction, his art is a seperate world of expression in representing life, without the images of existing reality, found in abstraction, conceptual or minimal sense of fragmented form. His autistic thought sailed from darkness to another darkness, outside the region or space of time, he thought that time could only be mated for death, not for life, which should be erected on the cross, since no purpose was drawn from it; tragically, when it transform from something given to something taken, in which the universal planetary system has given way on the idea of circular repetition, and conveyed with a distinctive taste of chaotic direction, singular. To make a point of tragedy, the modern writers and artists causes destruction, Shakespeare's work is dramatically linked with betrayal and death; he seizes upon the sensation of the whole mystery of death, in a universalized sense. He identifies his portrayal of literary tradition with the Roman forms of tragic insight, it is a contemplation of violent action in which contrary forces spread over his beloved kingdom, superposed one upon another, and blended throughout the impoverished squalor of the uneducated Elizabethan poor.

Compartmental Man did not search for truth in his drawing, so that he can draw with great speed, and by which he can escaped through it. His search for the light in darkness is full of tears. When he draw a figure in a receding motion, he sees it as a seed of life, indicating a line of thought, illuminated thoroughly; and, from its appearance, without ever being able to go nowhere while still receding, the dissected-figure spends his life in the illuminated shadow.

Compartmental Man add more linear-weight...darkness

Heavily enough to give darkness...life again, relive: to influence shadow, on the ground that, all in all, reality has a hidden sun

To tear apart...leaves and branches of motion leaning outward: but the dissected-figure set gainst it, declaring that there can be no light

In decomposition - poisoning by means of dark-lines assimilated the dark speech of Babiel, like imitation of crucifixion

The shadow of death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Floating bodies...rotten ( Bare spines, hanging down ) on desiccated garbage ( penetrating ) Grinding life...scorch ( scripture ) In darken heart... (deprive ) of love (Compartmental Man remember ) Rosita's holy words ( Body of Christian heart, a cross ) A Nuclear Cross ( Smokey Mountain... morally ) Politically corrupt ( The poor comes to dig ) Garbage material ( Biblical waste... dispirited) Cut off ( From immortality ... old ) new Bible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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