Banner me !

Banner me !

And so yes then you drive through Miami and you see me on the side of the road on a banner !

I like Miami !

Friday midnight

Friday midnight

Friday night in Ibiza,

Went early home to write ,I thought I have or had so much to say , but the words don’t come out .

I read my messages nothing inspiring , god bless no smileys, they know me by now..

I wanted to tell my truth of what I saw, what I experienced , I want to describe every detail , every flaw, every mistake , stupidity , every nice gesture, every moment wasted, every emotion gained.
Every beautiful detail of people making their point in the discussion, every compliment made and taken.

The Full moon is still in my blood , I am tiptoeing through conversations , I watch, I sit, hesitate and wait till the words will come out,.

Good night




Spectrum Miami Art Show

Spectrum Miami Art Show

Hi my dear followers!,.

In 5 weeks I am off to Miami for The Spectrum Miami Art show, I invite you to be my guest with this special Collector’s Pass ( see link below) .

Use it to join me for the Opening Night Preview on Wednesday, November 30th or for any of the show days through December 4th.
Let me know if you’ll be there, and I will be sure to have a glass of champagne ready for you! Or of course any other information you need to get to the show !

Looking forward Miami summer heat, Art & Champagne .

See you there !


The Cross

The Cross

By Cila Warncke

The Cross: a cry of heartbreak and pean to redemption.

Lolo painted The Cross years ago amidst a separation. She threw the canvas on the floor and strew it with paint. Her fine, strong hands snarled and clawed into shape its rough outlines. When she placed it on an easel a man’s face emerged.

“There is a place between conscious and subconscious,” she says, surveying The Cross from a respectful distance. “There you can touch everything you have lived.”

Art born from this space transcends aesthetics. The Cross represents the apotheosis of anguish. Life suffocated by the weight judgement; a reluctant sacrifice — “not my will, but thine be done”. In this cruel space innocence and guilt are irrelevant. One suffers for countless sins of ommission and commison. Loss, isolation, and alienation.

When the paint was part dry Lolo scattered it with fistfuls of sand. She scrubbed some coarse grains into the canvas, allowed gravity to drag others. Ghostlike, the cross appeared in negative.

“A cross is a warning,” Lolo notes. “It can mean ‘stop’, or mark an error.”

The top of Lolo’s cross twirls, seems to flicker like a torch. If one side of The Cross is agony the other is ecstasy. It is rebirth. Hallelujah. It is a spike in the heart of a vampire. It is dawnbreak on the darkest night of the soul. Oh, holy joy.

“We keep drooling over our pain,” says Lolo, hazel eyes reflecting the subtle contours of The Cross. “The Bible says Jesus took our pain. He took it all off our shoulders. Stop moaning.”

Equal part astute comment on the inevitability of loss and celebration of the life after the death of
a relationship, The Cross evokes and transcends the fundamental myth of Western culture while shimmering with profound humanity.

The Cross waited years to be unveiled. Released in the heat of heartbreak, it would have been unfinished. Now, its corporeal texture is imbued with the vitality of a resurrected spirit. Alive with symbolism and fraught with imagery of life, death, truth and controversy, it is a work of art that will continue to reveal new aspects over time and elicit emotions both dark and light.

I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen. Revelation 1:18