kūrt kūrdt cobāin (lēgends)
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kūrt kūrdt cobāin
burning kūrt / fading kūrdet
materials: acrylic on canvas / TEMPERED GLASS
size: 40''x 60''
years: 2020-2022
weight: 10 lbs
ārcanes: necrōmancy, transmutātion, Illusiōn, summōnning, divinātion , 27th club
Walking in the desert of no-where for a while, wondering about that man who sold the world, does anyone knows him at least as well as I do? Does anyone else heard his vandolin sounds?
In the way of a dilapidated sign standing on its wire with strange language written on it ”hwish-kahl”, A heavy smell surrounds the air around me, an incomprehensible stench fills the compressed air, I carefully cross the stinking river bridge, and just near the end of the bridge I hear voices below me.
I climb down the steep road to the crevasse under the bridge and see a mirage cross an obstacle near the water line, point to it and repeat and chant a string of words "something in the way, mmm, something in the way, mmm" until suddenly he notices me and then flames envelop him. He burns in flames in front of my eyes, then immediately after a moment he fades away and disappears and returns wearing the appearance of a handsome guy with a somber look and golden hair that flows down to his shoulders.
He looks at me with his big eyes, points at me, stops, and shouts "It's better to burn than fade away" and again burns and fades away himself.
Almost impossible for me to communicate with a flame or a mirage of wind, I have decided to leave and climb back towards the bridge.
I think about this strange situation, hearing again the sounds of the heavenly instrumental, someone, somewhere around me is playing a vandolin.
My head is frantically following the voice coming from the trees of a nearby forest, I felt my steps rushing towards the increasing voices that in a distorted form are so familiar to me, "Mmmm.. something in the way, mmm... something in the way" he played on the vandolin and hums in a voice that makes me stop and wonder who I am.
It's the golden boy, his eyes can tell a story of a thousand years in an instant, I pull out my notebook and hand him the poem that the one with the black star wrote earlier, he swipes his hand gently over the ink as if his hands are caressing something familiar.
It's the golden boy, his eyes can tell a story of a thousand years in an instant, I pull out my notebook and hand him the poem that the one with the black star wrote earlier, he swipes his hand gently over the ink as if his hands are caressing something familiar.
He shuts his eyes and a rough grungy voice comes out of the mirage golden boy, he undoubtedly knows the song of the one who sold the world.
Drops of golden rainfall from the treetops trying to extinguish the flame that fades in front of me, I treasure the moment inside of my heārt in order to present the extinguished fire of the golden boy, I call him “come as you are”
Kūrt - The flaming
Kūrdt - The fading