exhibition

Mostra Tudo Si Encaixa

Galeria de Arte Arno Georg
Fundação Cultural de Rio do Sul
fundacaocultural.art.br

03 de outubro a 03 de novembro 2014

Exposição Entre a Cor e a Linha
de David Ronce
(Exhibition of 50 paintings and drawings on paper canvas and foam/ cardboard)
Exposição Desambiguação
de Meg Roussenq

03/11 - Finissage - Encerramento
19h: bate-papa sobre arte contemporanea
20h: coquetel

A Fundação Cultural recebeu na terça-feira, dia 3/11, os artistas plásticos David Ronce e Meg Tomio Roussenq
para o encerramento da mostra de arte contemporânea "TUDO si Encaixa". A dupla falou sobre as obras e os métodos de criação
reunidos nas temáticas "Entre a COR e a Linha" (de David Ronce) e "DESAMBIGUAÇÃO" (de Meg Tomio). O bate-papo abordou também
o mercado nacional de exposição de arte e as políticas de editais para artes plásticas.

_____________________________________________________________________

New Paintings and Drawings
(and their stories)

May 17 - 28, 2013

Vernissage: May 18, 7 - 10 PM

NaCasa – Coletivo Artístico
Rua José Francisco Dias Areias, 359 – Trindade.
Florianópolis, SC, Brasil
48-3028-8185
http://nacasaartes.wordpress.com/

Vernissage May 18, 7 - 10 PM

Paintings and drawings exhibited

'Untitled', #6, acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 100 x 100 cm, 2013

'Untitled', #10, acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 150 x 100 cm, 2013

'Untitled', #5, acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 100 x 100 cm, 2013

'Untitled', #4, acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 100 x 150 cm, 2013

'Untitled', #7, acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 150 x 150 cm, 2013

'Waiting', #9 (with text), acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 63 x 45 cm, 2013

1
waiting to buy shoes
and make copies
it is excessively hot
and I am walking very slow
very hot, very slow

I want to tear my skin
rub it and rip it

waiting for a film to start
much noise surrounds me
my dog tries to sleep
on cool floor tiles
while I wait on a sofa

I want to jump from the edge
squinting hard to not see
my flesh explode

sitting on a chair in the corner
near the open window
that gives no air

I want none of this any more

waiting for her to return
at a table in the middle
of a busy walkway
paying attention to
nothing

no image
no synch
copying?

leaf stems and short wiry branches
footsteps inside flapping sandals
visa deadline a miracle truly

no tech
pc users
portuguese!

a healthy space of fruit and bread
holding a leash and thinking
of when I can paint again
when to draw and make art

2
around and
around
no answers

a difficult time
running in all directions
and worry about
health, money, and
happiness

no relief except
in art

is it happiness
or a terrible cold
approaching

but I should be
serious
it is quite yummy and
delicious

conversations are cut
and upset

there is truth and
integrity
in this brasilian
serendipity

no relief

simple project
complex emotions
up down

click and talk
no
image

and...
there is the deepest
of love, caring and
continuing romance

no

3
what is love
but a moment
of passing joy
and sadness

forced to meet my human
ness
god it can be such a bur
den
the weight of pain and ill
ness
continuing becaause time is
hopelessness
not existing

deadly serious
and not of this life

my body pajn vibrates at a very high
frequency
subtle but spiking at times
electricity
I breathe with it to burn the time
not existing

moments passing
through oblivion

tops and bottoms
life and memory
passing
through wounds and
mouths open
smiling

my heart
and what of my heart
it rocks from side to side
crying every second ever minute

not existing

'Pointed edges', #3 (with text), acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 76 x 55 cm, 2013

1
pointed edges

near a crumbling corner

my clothes piled

ready to wash

Rain is falling straight down. The pounding of a hammer against nails into wood.

The waiting chairs are lined up arm touching arm. A row of six. They are all empty. I am
sitting on the end chair, with a clear view of the hallway.

the stars I draw
and fill with color
(can’t belong to anyone but me)
light purple and orange today

2
Tuesday morning, day eight of the new year. I’d like to do my impression now - of the hissing of a wall heater near my desk, and the sound of a car passing in the near distance.

painted words
painted this and that
painted life
is what this is now?

stone hinges trim my soul with dust

Yes, a lot of hissing. The new year, with new promises, thoughts, and ideas. About how it will be, could be, wish it might be.

The nurse holds up three fingers. Not too long a wait i think. Three fingers? What? There is probably enough money in the meter.

3
the weather is violence

death ends then begins again

My intention is measure moderate, and hopeful, for now. In this moment.

Sunset and New Yorker magazines. I choose a seat in the corner. Sitting across from me is an old Chinese woman with each eye looking in
opposite directions.

where are the sunsets

and joy?

Her glasses are clear and thin. Which eye looks upon me I wonder.

'Wanting', #1 (with text), acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 76 x 55 cm, 2013

1
I am hungry
I order a pizza

The grinding and buzzing of machinery -
no voices - just the whirling sound rising and lowering in volume.

and see it before me
Instantly

The gardeners are at work -
their monthly visit. How many times I have
listened to this intrusion into my meditative morning. I need a drink.

I reach out to touch it
but the crust becomes

2
Slowly I raise myself and move towards the kitchen. Here there is a remedy for early intrusion. A balance between alcoholic and meditative states of mind.

a snake
and coils around my wrist

The floor is so cold I must wear slippers -
furry things my heels hang out of.

pulling me upward
my neck bends

I am thinking -
a part of me is waiting - through voluntary
avoidance - and needs to change - what I want. What I could be.

to the sky
a wind is cutting my lips

3
Olive trees

as my tongue unravels
outward, up

Clear skies

and meets the head
of the snake

Cool breeze

hiss! snap!
I am bitten

Warm stones

snake eyes watch me

'Water', #2 (with text), acrylic, pastel, pencil on canvas, 76 x 55 cm, 2013

1
Ok, here’s the story.

I was once a fish.

Another lifetime.

We didn’t know each other very well.

Met her 5 minutes ago.

I’ve had many past lives as other different
creatures,

And I remember them all.

She was short, my type, and very sexy.

It’s all just skin, bones and stuff.

Yeah very sexy.

- Hey Faber, do me a favor, will ya?

- Sure, like what? (Favors I never do usually.)

2
Moving around, eating, dreaming, fucking, dying.

Is there more?

- Come ‘ere an unzip this will ya?

A soul?

As a fish I think I had the beginnings of one.

- Yeah Ok.

I remember the push and pull of water all around my body.

I wanted to say more, but moved closer.

As she turned I unzipped her.

It was lovely.

Soft shoulders and peach-colored skin.

Very nice.

3
The skin pulsates against the pressure, yet breathing through it.

- Faster Faber!

- I’m so hot!

Her temperature was rising quickly.

I could feel the heat bursting near my fingertips.

I can see water everywhere.

I slowed down, teased her a bit.

- Aww, let’s go for a swim baby.

So much that there is really none at all