I: an English letter which stands for myself,

I: solid, a solitaire, a one letter word.

EGO: a Latin triple, two vowels appearing like elephants ears and the G: somehow open and not open.

ICH: again a triple, a German: a solid statue seems to offer itself as a construction supporting the C: the openness towards what is coming next. The H serves as a rocket, catapulting the C into other dimensions.

I: solid like a skyscraper, tender and rank like Pounds New York,

I: one tower of the World Trade Center, no longer proud and solid, but vulnerable and suffering from recycling its dignity.

I: fragile not since September 11, but since Turings paper of 1936/37, challenging Descartes`Ego, by programming:

I = blank or – , i.e. possibly nothing.

9.

I’m on morpheme today.

*

A word so fierce it refutes the break.

The dusk is mine.

Child of sleep, raiser of ghouls, take the hurt.

*

No sense in rupture.

*

Morphing one into the other

Crystalline analgesic anaesthetic

The numbing narcotic of loss.

I = shit (Dieter Roth)

I = something that matches (misst) itself with the gods not unluckily (Friedrich Hölderlin)

I = ?

8.

The naming of Hannibal’s elephants.

*

They strode out of the Atlas,

flat-headed, fan-eared,

fighting with tusk and trunk,

smelling bad enough to drive the horses mad.

Historians, naturalists, archaeologists fussing

over a single Carthaginian coin.

Snow, and black

trumpeting rock.

*

Names invincible enough.

Names with war in their throats

and a dying hunger.

Spearheads entering flesh.

Mountains being scaled.

*

Only one survived.

Surus, the Syrian.

Indian elephant reaches Carthage from Syria via Egypt.

Names the colour of flint.

*

Their mouths turned blue.

In their brains the names still whirred,

thirty-seven bar one,

whispered by poets

in the form of birds that fell.

The gasp of the last big secret.

7.

I could call you Q, she said.

Like Q for quill, or Quasimodo.

Almost like you, that name.

Or that other, that supplier of miraculous gadgets.

“Nice to know old Q can still surprise you…”

There’s a line worth having, second only to

“If he’s Q, does that make you R?”

*

Renaming him rapidly,

she falls from consonant to vowel,

a white-water rafter

kayaking from fear to exhilaration at the speed of a sudden shout.

*

Between Q, and A, no questions, nor answers.

Just this summoning, simple

as only one syllable can be.

A wet sucking tongue leaves traces during the act of counting, fragile unreliable traces, momentarily traces, keeping memory for a short moment, a moment which lasts longer than a breath or a sound, a moment which is shorter than the timespans memorized by scratching, carvings and written letters. Karmakar puts Descartes into question. He puts Descartes into question, perhaps because he is a painter and perhaps painting puts generally logic and speech based reasoning into question.

Painting puts the light of reason into question. Not any light, but the specific light of mathematical reasoning, which Descartes made famous. It is a light, which is fighting contradiction. It is the light of either or nor, of right or wrong.

Painiting cannot be right or wrong. Painting is about intensity, about grades and shadows gradually dimininishing light or emphasizing light.

Painting is about continua. The logic of wether or not is not about continua. It is about discreteness. Karmakars paintings are not discrete. They are intense. Painting Karmakar creates an intensity which spans from attraction to repulsion, from coition to cognition. Thus his paitings, thus painting in general becomes a challenge of any discrete distinction. It throws us into the mesmerizing abyss of conflicting extremes.

Nils Röller New Delhi/Sanskriti Kendra

(more…)

6.

Krypton is behind me.

Open the crypt if you dare.

5.

Profundo russo.

Breathing the air is enough to ignite me, spontaneously.

I turn violent in water.

Later when the current has passed, I cool down and find

at my feet an optically pumping heart.

Gold is my ally, mercury my love.

I take pictures, I tell time.

Eyes of glass, my stomach turbine.

My safety, my health, my purity is in your hands.

Inert, you protect me.

Atomic, I move towards the next big number,

my alkaline sister, my earth metal kin.

4.

0010 0101

This binary is she.