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        <title>deviantART: by:NurAtaibis</title>
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        <pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 15:32:13 PST</pubDate>        
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                <title>here please</title>
                <link>http://NurAtaibis.deviantart.com/journal/13794289/</link>
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                <pubDate>Thu, 19 Jul 2007 11:29:53 PDT</pubDate>
                
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                <author>~NurAtaibis</author>
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                <title>notes from my diary</title>
                <link>http://NurAtaibis.deviantart.com/journal/12864979/</link>
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                <pubDate>Sun, 06 May 2007 15:20:12 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ ...<br />
My purpose in writing these notes is not exactly to inform about my works or try to explain my doings, but rather share the phase that gives birth to my works. For, I believe that once the work is out of the artist`s hands, it becomes a subject with an individual life of its own and its reality is hidden within.<br />
What I have been trying to achieve -though from time to time- is an attempt, after the completion of my work, to revive the creation phase which is more or less an effort to seize the time that is consigned to oblivion; yet these efforts never meet the ends as that moment can never be grasped again. As the very person, who has done the work, there is no doubt that I am relatively luckier than the eye of the next beholder. Yet , I still am just an eye of a beholder.<br />
<br />
Realizing today, without cutting loose with our past... If it is the past that shapes us today, then perhaps it is thus that we have to save first...<br />
<br />
You are not a perfect God; your feelings are your reality. Open your self up to the universe. Human race has already been through the desires, fears, exaltations, humiliations, hunger for existence that you are breeding. And the one who can conquer her fears, look into nothingness yet percevies within, reach the shore and make her leap then dances thereby, play her game, be all ears to screams yet can turn the deaf ear to them, look at reality with her eyes shut and be very fragile, most vulnerable with all her existence yet can be the toughest; was the one that ultimately survived.<br />
<br />
09 December 1999<br />
I have been working with newspapers for some time... Pasting layers of newspaper, dyes and adhesives on the canvas... I have been thinking on what has been laid upon us from the very moment we`re born... Then I start to tear loose... I am experiencing rift of conscience, my mind is being stripped of its veils, what lies beyond becomes visible... Beauty, ugliness, agony, hatred, desires, passions... I am tearing... Tearing till I hit upon something.<br />
If we were to born into an environment that is scrubbed off all the prejudice and stereotypes, what would the reality be? What would the SELF be?...<br />
<br />
Are we like a ball cast into the world? Since energy would not perish, doesn`t the entire humanity or even the universe exist in every breath we take?<br />
I am searching for my very selfin my compositions. I want to dredge up my little devils, to love them, to be able to love the entire mankind through them.<br />
I am making my way by working like an archaeologist. The colours, hollows, slits, brush strokes that I find, converse with me. Some are obstinate to remain where some breaks off on its own. If the completed work won`t speak to me, again I cover sensual relationship with my canvases. While my fingertips try to feel, they start to break away from me little by little...<br />
For me, this phase is a ritual.<br />
<br />
10 December 2000<br />
I covered the iron frame with lampshade paper. I had my designs photocopied, in order to use them together with newspapers.<br />
I enter and melt in the composition... That world is luring me in... I am now, the very composition itself... Are those the shadowed selves that we draw out of darkness which reach tomorrows, I do not know? For, it is them that I wish to reach... Parts of me in shadow.<br />
Yes, I bestowed myself upon the beholding; I am like an insect without a shell... The composition speaks... Now she is a subject... I came here as myself... Here I am... Totally exposed, stark naked.<br />
<br />
21 March 2001<br />
I am roaming about second-hand bookstores; collecting pictures. This excites me. I am putting them aside randomly or by choosing, dragging them out of piles... Were they anticipating on being saved, I do not know? I am pasting some on small pieces of wood, then I am repeating the process that I have done with the canvas.<br />
Conceiving the present, am I saving the past only to edit the future? In an incessant quest... Searching for a great loss that cannot be found. Each picture I find, dissolves into a new picture in my mind.<br />
I am experiencing the despair of an embodied SELF... I am dreaming of numerous bodies that instantly embody everything which comes out from within... I understood why I liked polyphony.<br />
<br />
I and the other... Peeled off skins... The discarded and the kept... Today is 15 April 2001. I am just myself while working... I breathe... Each moment is lived to its fullest, while I create... I can thinking and feel... The past, the future and the present... I am collecting them all. My inner voices are my sources of inspiration... Adding this moment onto former quests, former conscience and releasing the past to the time it belongs...<br />
The only way to live is through perpetual re-birth perhaps...<br />
There is no longer a coast to return, no life buoy to be clasped... Whichever way you turn, the same call lingers on... ]]></description>
                <author>~NurAtaibis</author>
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