David Ronce
  • Start
  • Painting
    • paintings - abstract
    • paintings - energy studies
  • Drawing
    • black & white >
      • bdfr
      • black + white + grey
      • evolving structures
      • larvae
      • Little vertical rectangles
    • color
  • Photography
    • after poets
    • counting days
    • earth, water, graff and air
    • painted and polaroid
  • Video
  • Writing
    • (about she and her)
    • (blog)
    • (notes on a brasilian mythology)
  • Visibility
    • texts/ propaganda
  • About
    • profile / photos
  • Contact
  • Finish

ste.ero

7/31/2016

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I swish as I talk, and take relief in structural holes. The universe is a recreational drink for every kid to play with. It begins and ends with a flowing cache of dazzling islands seen from billions of miles away. I’m thinking that my underwear are made of watered silk, touching my knees, and I wonder which island offers the best vocabulary of dissimilitude.
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rou.miti

7/30/2016

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You feel like the greatest antiquity, and you look around for some disposition to make use of. I try to tell you why you’re wrong. But those lights from a bright cafe aren’t hallucinations. You are booked one way to dance away the night.
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gnu.eyne

7/27/2016

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She loved scraping kernels off of dried corn cobs. When she looked at me I knew all she to refused to bear. Sitting in silence on a blanket, side by side, we scraped the last one clean. I began to speak, and she stopped me, as she put her hands on her knees and slowly tapped an African rhythm. It struck me as magnificent, gladiatorial.
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duyi.uyna

7/26/2016

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I observed her from the wall as I crept vertically. Then I fell on her right shoulder at the very moment I was passing overhead. She gave a prolonged shriek from the depths of her stomach. I crawled between her breasts and waited.
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raop.hugmi

7/25/2016

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Confused on my out of focus face, I knew that it was over. The water raised up and settled against the high cracked ceiling. A strange rainbow reflected considerable variation. I am, therefore, it must not be you.
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euh.uff

7/24/2016

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It crashes to the ground. It slides across the floor. When it stops, it is rolled into a tube on its side. It has has angled off to the right. There is a brisk cubistic stroke of pure color. It doesn’t try to get up or cry out for help. It doesn’t move.
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lic.rarg

7/22/2016

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She wanted to play a part in the global strategy for social justice. Like many politically active young women before and since, she experienced a very special diplomatic approach. Given anonymity and a stylish control uniform she returned home reeking of pomegranate juice and very traumatized. It was early afternoon when we finally reached the middle of a field beside the dead foal with its intestines hanging down to the ground.
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avt.euta

7/21/2016

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Her loss of values — the rudeness, vulgarity, lack of discipline in public behavior, and the endless idle conversation — was the result of not being nurtured. And not even the shadow of a smile could promote the dry friction of cicada. Signs of a healthy rebelliousness were never to engulf her as she pondered the world from her raised wooden dais.
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veth.arg

7/20/2016

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my blood pressure drops - which pulls in a breath - air particles move around it - hearing rain - a liquid such as water - in pretty much every ear
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eter.ytun

7/19/2016

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Behavior beyond legitimacy or deterrence; frequent forays as social interactions; laws held in trembling hands; expressive functions in connection with transitory peace; all attitudes gladiatorial. When the museum reopens remorse will be pointless.
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