Laurence Fuller

AI generated EpoHero, king of paradise, Token #2706

king of paradise

Returned home to Santa Monica today after sheltering at a friend’s place during the LA fires evacuation. I wrote a poem about the experience;

"Smoke woke me from a fever dream,  
My blanket, my only shield,  
From skies that clouded over,  
Over beaches, through the fields.  
Palm trees, once swayed in bliss,  
Splintered windows at their seams.

The sea and sand now shelter families,  
As heat rolls through the hills.

When mountain winds rise,  
Across vast, burning lands,  
They carry the torn fabrics of our mast,  
And the ashes that were home.

Winter by the beach held so much promise—  
Promise of a year in waiting,  
Promise of a moment of becoming,  
Promise of sandcastles we built,  
Promise of an open gate.

New Year’s belonged to the gulls,  
And then it was gone.  
This remained our only promise:

Sometime the winds will lift the sand above the ground we tread again,  
And fog will drift through barnacles clinging to the pillared pier,  
Sometime we’ll feast the ocean’s bounty and empty shells upon our plates again,  
Sometime we’ll writeup lists of all the art we’ll buy for our mountain home again,  
Sometime we’ll drink the elixirs of ancient spirits spiced our cups again,  
Sometime,  
Sometime we’ll walk around the halls we missed at first, before the setting sun,  
Sometime we’ll make art again as testament to beauty, 
Sometime Roman ruins will shake to their place so we can wake their ghosts again,  
Sometime,  
Though sometime, and maybe sometime soon, it will be all ours for the keeping."  
~ Laurence Fuller

Cinematic Poetry by Laurence Fuller 
@laurencefuller  
https://www.laurencefuller.art/web3

Sometime

A four artist collaboration, featuring three painters and one poet ~ Including paintings by Tania Rivilis @tania_rivilis & Preslav Kostov @preslavkostov & Francien Krieg @francapaintings ~ GAN animation, music, poetry and performance by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller.

On April 17th 2022, I had the incredible opportunity to portray one of the finest painters alive today, David Hockney, for a new series on a major network. I talked to a few painter friends about it and we came up with the idea what if we could make an art and poetry biopic, that would form a moving portrait of a man that includes performance, painting and poetry in three chapters of his life. Starting with the young and vibrant portraiture by Tania Rivilis, moving to Preslav Kostov melancholic middle age and finally the depth of old age by Francien Krieg. Each of these three brilliant painters creating at the highest level, their voices shining through each portrait and perfectly suited to captured each chapter.

Portrait Of A Painter

I am proud to present the preview to the Art & Poetry collaboration with celebrated digital artist Senju Shunga - my poem & reading opposite the sensational actress Cynthia San Luis.

This story is about seduction & a power struggle between two lovers. It’s about passion & desire, rooted in a deep connection, their hunger for each other is a dangerous game. It’s up to the viewer to decide how this story ends; wether in despair or with a love story that lasts for generations. - Laurence Fuller



The Heiress I

NIGHT

Do you know my name?  
Do you know me?  
For I am your mischief,  
And there are none who call me master,  
Only those I wish to make believe,  
As you read in my diary.  
Prophecy is writ on signs that are parades in your honor that my name will be there in less than score, but ten years.  
And when they stitch my name above that frame where his once was,  
It will my crown be framed.  
I may break the glass of this mirror I stare into,  
Like a screen in front of my visage that shows me untamed.  
Breaking my reflection.

Simple has no place in the plotting journals of my rise to unimaginable fame and glory,  
Unlike any that came before me,  
Surprise the veil of my protection,  
Deny their affections.

For I will paint their portraits no more,  
But paint my own and say it is in their honor,  
Let them think they hold the reins and catch their good favors as it rains.

Redact their language they one day learned for their own March,  
To their own throne,  
I will block their path with rocks and stacked toys and puppets that may dance,  
Impossible to grab.

And pay credit to the master,  
Though his likeness be not worth a penny.  
Tend to those who have the countenance to be nice,  
I wish I was one.  
People think I am nice,  
But I know not why,  
Maybe it is because I have blue eyes.  
But stare long enough into them,  
And they stare back into you. 

I am compelled to prove ~ to all and make the world my oyster that I might sup it clean.  
For when I am immersed and supper was the world,  
Then I dined as a fiend.  
My celebrity will mask all, especially my subtle treachery.  
Nice be my countenance and all the while success is written in prophecy.  
False only to that smile that I bely,  
May it seem an angel’s twinkle in my eye.

They may smoke the weeds,  
I encourage them,  
The places of sin be my dwelling places and I will gode them in.

They used riches as carrots strapped in front of mine possession and the dropping pennies I leave behind.  
My tongue it speaks the language of different lands as I fit in one of the people,  
Alike my fellow man.

And all those languages twist over one another but they tell the same story ~ a villain is who I am.  
The snakes that I embody, allow them to turn about my hands.  
Conspire this system to my favor,  
A villain's tapestry,  
My life unfolds,  
A web of twisted threads where darkness binds.

Devils lurk at every turn,  
Ready to punish for deeds both foul and dire.  
Is this the price of power?  
An endless, burning pyre?

I shall not shine too bright in the sunlight and my glimmer will flash rage in their squinting eyes,  
And alike them too,  
Should I see a shine glimmering in the water  
Step on it before it gets too bright,  
Make sure it drowns.

For they will reign me in,  
And strap those carrots to my chin.  
I will be grateful for the whip upon my skinny hide,  
It’s my memory I was more vicious than you, my poison more potent and my strength more sturdy.  
My oak trunk didn’t move an inch each time you pushed and pushed and tried so hard to push.  
I bade my time, did you know what cauldrons I had in the fire?  
Or did you just assume?

For who did you think it would not end well?  
As your crown rocks back and forth at my feet,  
All I need do now ~ is reach down,  
Time is my friend,  
Not yours,  
And time will unfold,  
Whether you like it or not.  
When did he claim to be gracious or nice,  
Do you remember?

Come closer,  
Get to know me,  
Because one day I will learn,  
How to feel remorse,  
Because I am not finished yet.

Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller  
Original poetry and performance by Laurence Fuller  
Visuals & Music aided by AI by Laurence Fuller  
Minted for FakeWhale’s “Art Market” exhibition  
www.laurencefuller.art  
@laurencefuller

Night

The first Art & Poetry collaboration between Laurence Fuller & Sabet, over a year in the making. Inspired by the aesthetics of David Hockney & Van Gogh after seeing the soup can protestors attack art in museums to promote political agendas “stop looking at art, focus on politics” ~ by spray-painting sunflowers over the Houses of Parliament we say “stop focusing on politics, look at art”

Art by Sabet @sabet
AI Animation, Music, Poetry & Performance by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller

Sunflowers Over Politics

Art & Poetry collaboration w/ Laurence Fuller & Richard Nadler

The vast abyss carried away by the waves,
Touching the forbidden void at the end of days.
I lost my grip, climbing sandstone caverns,
I fell head first into an endless lamentation.
Sea lions danced,
Fluctuations of jelly fish in a swarm,
Death itself a passenger in the garden of salt.
Love me the only way that you can,
A rusted shipwreck of a man,
Weeds tangled round the splinters of an emotion, 
But in the deck a pulsating gemstone,
That all the sea and all its entities,
Blossoming anemones, nudibranchs,
Did gather to see what the sea had sent to me. 
Poetry by Laurence Fuller, 2023

AI & Animation by Laurence Fuller & Richard Nadler
Music & Sound by Laurence Fuller
Poetry & Performance by Laurence Fuller
www.laurencefuller.art/web3

What The Sea Sent To Me #10/32

By the side of a great mountain, 
A Snow White majestic mountain goat clambered among the rocks, 
He was known as the greatest of climbers,  
He climbed to the highest peaks to eat fresh grass,  
as the higher the impasse, the richer it tasted.  
Though this winter frosted over all the surfaces up the rubble of the mountain.  
A rose covered in frost wilted by the cold dawn,  
And all the rocks in fact were covered in ice.

The goat slipped with every step, 
He could not get up to the head,  
Of a single slope,  
Though he tried until his face glowed red.  
It took him weeks to climb what used to take a day  
Exhausted the goat rested halfway, 
Napping on the hill all day.  
Until he heard the clanking echo of a chisel,  
Curious he ventured to its source.

A sculptor chipped away at a large masterpiece,  
The sculptors creations were renowned across the land, 
As pieces that formed around the twisting arms of beauty,  
And their embrace which wrapped the human touch in light.

No man nor woman looked like they did beneath his gaze,  
When he saw the goat, he put down his hammer,

The goat asked the sculptor;

“This is the coldest winter we’ve had,  
My hooves can’t get a foot and the richest grass grows at the top,  
I know sculptor you are used to carving with tools these masterpieces ,  
Please give me advice to make it easier?"

The sculptor answered;  
“It’s not the ice you need to solve but the rocks beneath,  
Simply trying to change your slipping won’t get you far  
The winter is cold because the roses in the mountain forest are frosted over. 
Nothing grows without their colour, 
It will be ice forever,  
Unless they’re warmed at the centre."

“But how” the goat asked “how could I warm all those roses by myself?”

“You can’t” the sculptor answered “for the roses are the soul of the forest”

The sculptor takes out a dragon’s scale and present it as a promise;  
“Persuade the dragon and she will melt them with a fiery kiss”

The goat ambled to the where sculptor pointed, slipping all the way.  
The golden glow from her cave lighted the fading day ~ unfurling from the hunt of her latest prey.

The goat explained;  
“The soul of the forest is frosted and rocks keep slipping,  
We cannot go on this way.  
If not for your first breathe to light the way”

The dragon spread out her majesty;  
“You are in luck, such a scorching kiss is tradition in my dynasty”

She looked out upon the roses,  
And breathed with calamity.  
The fire off the petals swelled with immensity.  
Once wilted, they now burn intensely.  
The dragon wrapped in flames and perched pulsating,  
All around the roses burned and color in the forest returned.

Ice on the rocks melted,  
The petals made a furnace,  
Glistening atop the rocks for the goat’s purpose,  
All life returned.

The goat climbed mountain’s top to deliver his last verse,  
All the forest shon now and the dragon lifted the curse.

"The grass is richer by the rocks at the mountain’s top”  
The goat said.  
"But the real beauty is the view."

Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller 
@laurencefuller  
www.laurencefuller.art/web3

THE MOUNTAIN GOAT & THE ROCK

Poetic Cinematic Fine Art ~ this is going to be an adventure ~ https://twitter.com/LaurenceFuller

Laurence Fuller Manifold Editions

Elysium Collaborations

A love story, made up of the moments in their absence when all they can think about is each other ~ and those memories of courtship playing body chess. Original poem written and performed by Laurence Fuller @LaurenceFuller ~ Animation and original painting “And the First Ray of Sunrise Will Wake My Sleeping Soul” by Tania Rivilis @tania_rivilis

Body Chess I

Foundation

At the heart of Trails of Destiny lies a struggle of self-discovery through the halls of power, masked figures, and shifting truths. A faun, the eternal dreamer, steps from the forest into the court, donning armor he found by the ghost of a knight in a field. To wear the suit is to engage in the theatre of history, to submit oneself to the trials of those who have come before. And yet, the deeper one walks, the more apparent it becomes: the journey is not through a kingdom of men, but through the mind itself.


This is a story of ambition, seduction, and betrayal an odyssey into the machinations of power, where every lesson is a test, every gift a snare. The King, he discovers, is a reflection of the self, of history ~ he praises, then undermines. Teaches, then mocks. It is a method familiar to any who has stood before a so-called mentor, drooling promises of ascension.

TRAILS OF DESTINY III

A hall vast enough to hold the heavens,

Its ceiling painted with scenes of triumph and despair,

I would need a helmet to protect the world that was in my head,



Then I saw it;

A suit of armor, 

Shining in gold,

Etched with the history of Elysium it told.

I turned to see a suit of armor beside me,

Above its head a constellation of stars

A fate that shifted with every breath.

The cool metal hummed against my fingers,

As I lifted and placed it over my head.



KING

“At last you came, 

Do you know how long I have been waiting?”



FAUN

“Since I called your name?”



With a serpents tongue that twisted over itself, he hissed.



KING

“Little Faun, you’ve come so far,

Through labyrinths spun beneath the stars.

I’m so proud of you my little friend,

You are so close to reach the end.

But seduction’s art must first be sung.

Make them move while you stay still,

Want burns brighter than force of will.

To rule, you must command the heart.

Wether it goes out or remains inside,

Your will is the true key to paradise,

Ambitious men covet crowns.

Seduced by gold’s fleeting gleam.

Offer them dreams,

And they’ll sleep forever.

Take humble tools to make your start,

A simple hammer and a tether.”



But his words were not a gift to me,

Each held a trap I couldn’t see.

Growing branches on the poison tree.

He’d test my will, my mind, my pride,

And watch as doubts grew deep inside.



Once, he praised my skill,

Said my voice could charm the fiercest birds from their perch,

“Seduction, Faun, is a subtle game,

To make them move while you stay the same.

Flatter their hearts, then pull away,

For want will bind them more than sway.”

Yet when I used his lessons well,

He turned and laughed with endless doubts,



KING

“You’ve learned, my child, 

But not enough.

A master gives love, 

But stands on ground.”



Another time, he gave me gold,

And watched my hands, both young and bold.



KING

“Spend it wisely,” the King did say,

“For power’s bought with the price you pay.”

But when I sought to wield its glow,

To buy favor and make it grow,

He took it back with a sly remark:

“See how wealth leaves you in the dark?

The richest men are those who know,

That nothing owns them ~ they own the show.”



He handed me a blade, a test of war,

To strike when the moment’s pure.

But when I swung, too fast, too late,

His eyes disappointed, his teeth did grate;



KING

“Patience, Faun, is a king’s true might,

Know this and learn to fight”

I struck again,

“Too soon, my Faun, the moment’s fled.

A king strikes not to make a sound,

But when the blow will shake the ground.”



Then came the cruelest test of all ~

He sent whispers to make me fall.

Seduced a friend to speak of me,

To whisper lies beneath the poison tree.

Set a fire to stoke my shame.

I ran to him, my heart betrayed,

But he just laughed at the trap he’d laid.



FAUN

“Why speak ill of me?” I cried,



KING

“To rule, my child, 

Is to sow dissent among the fools ,

And watch where loyalty’s seeds catch hold.”

But his smile concealed the truths he’d tied.

“A King must test if loyalty binds,

Will you follow me, or your fair-weather friends?”



From the shadows they appeared,

Naked in the heat, 

But it was she that stepped forth, 

An empress in bare feet.



NYMPHS

“Lay with us in endless pleasure”



FAUN





These were the snares he set for me,

To test my strength, my loyalty.

Each trial burned like fire within,

And still, I played ~ he made me spin.

For every time I thought I’d learned,

Another lesson burned like sin.



KING

“Be calm, Faun, and hold your ground,

For poetry speaks loudest when kings are crowned.”



As I reached the hall, my legs grew weak,

The serpent hissed and bit my feet.

The mirrors lining the towering walls,

Showed not my face, but distant calls ~

Fragments of text, his haunting words,

Cutting sharp as blades, absurd.



The crowd dispersed as I strode near,

Their masked faces betrayed no fear.

Golden light from the vaulted dome,

Made this place both grave and home.

And as I knelt before the throne,

His voice rang clear, in regal tone:



FAUN

“It all led to this moment.”



The people shone,

Elysium’s light their crown.

A chorus swelled,

The sound eternal.



The serpent writhed within my hands,

Its bronze scales warm, like shifting sands.



KING 2

“Do you know why I brought you here?”



FAUN

“To seek the truth?”



KING

“You think you’ve learned the ways of power,

But it was the labyrinth of your own desire,

That sets your soul to endless fire.

You need water,

Look up at the sky,

You see?

Above the clouds?

A helmet made of sea,

Paradise is one,

One sphere, 

One dome,

This place we call home is all we need,

Protect it.”



He stepped from the dark, 

His hand outstretched,

And from my hands,

I offered the serpent.



KING

“You brought me this, a gift divine,

But in its reflection, what do you find?

Your face, Faun ~ do you see it now?

The King and you, the same somehow.”



As he stepped closer,

I saw him ~ 

His face was mine.

His form, my own.



I stared into the serpent’s eyes,

I could only laugh to tell the truth,

For it was I that wore the suit.



KING

“Do you see, my child? The final test,

Was never war nor bliss.

It was to face yourself and find,

The throne was always in your mind.”



And in that reflection I did see,

The labyrinth was always within me.

And as the light began to fade,

I smiled, for the price was paid.

I was walking toward a mirror,

The King and I were bound together.



KING / FAUN

“I am the one whose name you called,

And it echoed through the dawn.”



FAUN

“It is I! 

It is I!

It is Destiny!”



KING

“You see now,” he said,

“You have always been me.

The serpent and the monarch,

The seeker and the sought.

This is the labyrinth of your soul,

And it is seen.

You stand at its heart.

You thought you were on the outside looking in,

But we’ve been here all along.

We are the writers of your song,

We placed the stones,

All the while you were unknown,

Time is all our friend,

And we believed in what was shown, 

To enter another man’s paradise,

Is really to enter your own,

You are a fortunate man,

And we before you are the gardeners of this land,

A pawn, a flower,

A single cup of sand,

Which falls within each hour.

Each of your trials was a map you wrote to reach the gates,

And the weight of the world will fall away, 

We are the Kings and Queens of the day, 

And you’ll try and try again to improve, 

But you may never get it right,

And it’s ok if you always loose,

But what if we show you inside,

We cannot let it be too soon.

And each and every man has two hands,

In one an open palm and in the other a fist,

Greet the world with a hug,

And remember that takes both to grow the land.”



My breath caught.



FAUN

“This cannot be.”



The labyrinth began to crumble.

And I began to see.

My voice did reach the void,

For my love she (possessed)

The Moon



FAUN

“You tried to break me like glass ~

thinking the shards would reflect your image.

But I did not shatter;

I became enlightened.



You threw mountains in my path,

But I became the river,

Slipping through every rock.

The taker has become the giver.

It is fate!

And fate you cannot stop.

A beautiful surprise.

Victory, to the King of Paradise!”



Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller

@LaurenceFuller

www.laurencefuller.art

Trials Of Destiny ~ III

Laurence Fuller SuperRare

What The Sea Sent To Me #4/32

What The Sea Sent To Me ~ Laurence Fuller x Richard Nadler

Cherished though they perish and fall off one by one. 
Piles of shells make mounds of pearls and emus kick through them all. 

An abundance of oysters! 

Minted for AI Surrealism exhibition at Oculus NYC hosted by Superchief and Exquisite Workers 

AI Animation & Music & Poetry & Performance by Laurence Fuller 
@laurencefuller
www.laurencefuller.art/web3

Oyster Tree

*Sound On* At first glance this poem is a sad tale, by the end it makes you wonder: is it the mourning of lost love, or actually a courtship? - Animated from Hendrick Brugghen's "Bagpipe Player" c. 1624 and Bartolome Esteban Murillo's "Two Women In A Window" c. 1655/60 (both public domain courtesy of The National Gallery) poem "Lover Mourns The Loss Of Love" by William Butler Yeats. Soundscape and voice performance by myself - Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller

The Girl In The Window

Protect her as she sleeps -  Animated from the painting ‘Sleeping Beauty’ by Victor Gabriel Gilbert - Poem ‘A Dream’ by William Blake - Produced and performed by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller

While She Dreams

Hic et Nunc

Doodle Dips is one of my favorite NFT Artists and as a collector myself, I'm personally I'm really excited about this collaboration with my poetry. *Sound On*

The concept behind this piece is to do with the idea that the origins of life on the planet came from beneath the ocean. 

Winged Urchins 

The painting is by my mother Stephanie Fuller and the poetry extract is from my novella The Fortune, buyer can DM me on Twitter to receive a copy.

After the success of collaboration Monarch Of The Main, a humpback whale leaping from the water, my mother and I decided to do a series of whale NFT fine art (her paintings) and poetry (taken from my novella The Fortune) collaborations and donate 25 percent of every piece to the charity Sea Shepherd as we did with Monarch (receipts posted on Twitter). The words are taken from my novella The Fortune, which I began writing the moment I heard Japanese fishermen were returning to commercial whaling this year. The novella is in the lockable content and is currently the only way to get ahold of a copy. I have felt an affinity to these beautiful and mysterious creatures for the entirety of my adult life. A whale's voice travels for miles under water and carries a map of the life of that creature for any other beings and communities that can hear it. They are the Monarchs of the Sea. These majestic inspired many poetic images for me in the writing of this piece, which is an allegory for the modern whaling industry and its history, our relationship to these beautiful creatures has been a tumultuous one. The images of a garden of barnacles comes from research, finding out how self sustaining these creatures are like gardens of the ocean. This painting is by my mother, the painter Stephanie Fuller; for my mother and I whales have always had a special connection and relevance to communicate with love and respect, and an openness to the wonders of this world. If you listen closely a faint humpback whale song can be heard calling from the deep.

Garden Of Barnacles

Kalamint

This poster above by Daniel Martin @DanielMartinNL & Pani Santiago @pani_santiago & Laurence Fuller is currently being featured in newspapers & billboards across Germany commissioned by the Unblock @unblockgallery & Tuan @Anarchytect2 exhibition at Museum Angewandte Kunst 05/26 - 07/24 of art minted on the Tezos Blockchain. Around 200 pieces minted over the last year are represented. When people scan the poster with their phones this AR art and poetry piece animates. 

GAN latent space from paintings by Daniel Martin ~ Digital brushstrokes by Santiago Pani ~ Original poetry, Mixed Media production, Music and Performance by Laurence Fuller

100% of the primary sales will be donated to charity via the giving block (results will be posted on twitter)

Home

Twas Brillig ~ Poetry, Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll ~ GAN Animation, Music and Performance by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller 
www.laurencefuller.art

Jabberwocky

Versum

“Beauty drowned the specter and I drunk the flood of my own soul”

A Ruben Fro point cloud reinterpretation of paintings by Henrik Uldalen, featuring original poetry composed and interpreted by actor / poets Laurence Fuller and Vincent D’Onofrio. ‘Flood Of The Soul’ is Vincent’s Genesis NFT. 

Original Poetry by Vincent D’Onofrio @vicnentdonofrio and Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller ~ Visual effects and sound design by Ruben Fro @Ruben_Fro ~ Paintings by Henrik Uldalen @henrikaau

Flood Of The Soul

Poetics are the shadows of art, wether visual or in language, they are the realm of mystery, weaving stories behind the vaunted spectacle ~ https://laurencefuller.squarespace.com/poetics

Sparrow has exhibited around the world from NFC Lisbon, Film3 LA & in Miami during Art Basel to Lume Studios during NFT NYC.

Vincent D’Onofrio and Laurence Fuller use the latest in technology combined with a good old fashion notepad and pen to create Poetic Cinematic Fine Art. An evolution in method acting and cinematic poetry in contemporary art. Currently exhibiting internationally. 

Graphite Method was born out of a time where the film and entertainment industries are in flux. And technology is rapidly evolving both the arts and every aspect of our lives. 

With 60 years combined experience in the arts, Vincent and Laurence are at the forefront of nurturing the ghost in the machine. 

Sparrow noir cinematic influences blended with poetic storytelling. Join Graphite Method, at the beginning of this spiralling narrative, as they lead you through an odd yet beautiful dreamscape where the world stops ~ if only for a moment, in the spectacular turning of these hours, along a scorched black path.


Sparrow (cinematic cut)

Poetics

“For the first time,
I looked where I had not,
Where the petals burnt too hot,
Where the ashes fell ~ in that consecrated spot,
Where we loved and lost.”

This piece was exhibited for Rome Art Week via Mecenate Fine Art Gallery. 

First Objkt Unlocked OE contract for Laurence Fuller.

Poetry & Performance & AI animation, art & music by Laurence Fuller 
@laurencefuller
www.laurencefuller.art/web3


For The First Time

Poetic Cinematic Fine Art ~ this is going to be an adventure ~ www.laurencefuller.art/web3

Choose Beauty was originally created in coordination with a selection of artworks that was displayed at the Stellar Gallery at Lume Studios in Soho NYC on April 2nd

CHOOSE BEAUTY
Life itself is an oath,
It is the beauty we chose,
Turning hands clenched by the coast.
Falling curtains are what we love the most,
Ideas hang in the balance of what we are and what we know,
Within a persistent echo,
Digging in our past we find heroes,
With rings around their bones.
I acknowledge we’re only here for a moment.
Other’s wish for me to steer my mast in their direction,
Hoping to see in my eyes; their own reflection.
I know how you felt, when you found a voice to use language as a vessel,
To create the world around you in your image.
How many others wish to swim in your river and move your pen to their wishes?
To see their own ideas more beautifully expressed and enacted?
With all their failings redacted.
Where art hangs on the pillars of invention,
Where the wall, the floor, the earth,
To the void in our chests that see ourselves in unrest,
Glory waits for tomorrow, where fate is frozen.
Today kiss my face and tell my broken ears of a choice;
Choose love,
Choose rich,
Choose bliss,
Choose to dream,
Choose to kiss,
Choose beauty. 

Cinematic Poetry, written, produced and performed by Laurence Fuller
AI Visuals and Music created by Laurence Fuller

Soho Collection has been Curated by;
The VerseVerse 'After Ginsberg',
CryptGallery at Dream Hotel in Manhattan,
Lume Studios in Soho,
Nolcha Shows in NYC,
'First Drop' exhibition by NueroNexus,
Featured Drop on Foundation,

SOHO Frame ~ Choose Beauty

Laurence Fuller Open Editions

Pawns rise from the rubble ~ "One man is frail on his own, but together we can take the throne."

Chess is the sovereign metaphor for strategy ~ I embrace your heresy ~ If you got what it takes ~ Take the throne.

Animated AI art, Music, Poetry, Produced and Performed by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller

www.laurencefuller.art

Pawns

*Sound on* Paradise rises from the ashes ~ @LaurenceFuller

“Empires crumble into a basin,
The gardens of Golgotha,
Birthplace of all creation,
Where doves take flight in sudden elation,
As the sun bleeds in the dusk,
I drop to my knees in the churchyard, its spires in thrust.

She shivers by the window,
Silver shines in the moonlight,
Grips the handle of his sword,
That feeling of the forbidden Knight.”

Chess is the sovereign metaphor for strategy ~ I embrace your heresy ~ If you got what it takes ~ Take the throne.

Animated AI art, Sound (music lisenced), Poetry, Produced and Performed by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller

www.laurencefuller.art

The Knight

Elysium Rising

Floating because the grave is full,
Floating in a glass vase,
On the edge of an antique table,
Dissolved if you get too close,
Transparent behind a glass case,
See her reflection in the halls,
Reflections on picture frames,
Sketches of a spiraling drama,
Masks hang on the walls,
Yet are these candles in flames?
Or is it the ghost of a rose that lights the way?

Based on the original oil paintings by Adam Disbrow ~ @adam_disbrow
AI Animation and Music by Laurence Fuller ~ @laurencefuller
Poetry and Performances by Laurence Fuller ~ @laurencefuller
www.laurencefuller.art/web3

Ghost Of A Rose II #1/12

Ghost Of A Rose

I stepped closer to that furnace that steamed release to bursting,
The touch of her hand that’s the first thing,
The graceful kiss of her cheek,
Paradise when the nettles sting.

Based on the original oil paintings by Adam Disbrow ~ @adam_disbrow 
AI Animation and Music by Laurence Fuller ~ @laurencefuller 
Poetry and Performances by Laurence Fuller ~ @laurencefuller www.laurencefuller.art/web3

Ghost Of A Rose III #4/16

Ghost Of A Rose III #14/16

Ghost Of A Rose III ~ Open Edition

The sun in Soho melts the ice creams of all that pass by,
It melts the smiles on all their faces and melts the ice in their coffee,
It melts the sound from all the instruments of a street choir roaring melodies of this city,
The sun’s dust gathers in piles,
All the clouds in the sky floated like puffs of ice at sea,
Our fingers dripping wet with ice cream.
By Laurence Fuller 2024

Soho Collection has been Curated by;
CryptGallery at Dream Hotel in Manhattan,
Lume Studios in Soho, 
Nolcha Shows in NYC,
The VerseVerse 'After Ginsberg',

SOHO ~ Ice Cream

In the trunk there was a man, running fingers over rosebuds which line the inner shrub. He’d been cocooned as the storm clouds loomed in. He plucked the pearls from the buds one by one, then pushed them back into the trunk.

He sits and writes an infinite scroll on the crystalized petals of her.

Minted for ‘What Dreams May Come’  exhibition at Uncommon Gallery hosted by Superchief during Korean Blockchain Week.

AI Animation & Music & Poetry & Performance by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller www.laurencefuller.art/web3

Oyster Tree II

Elsyium Dream

Pigeons know the city's secrets and they pass messages to each-other about its’ rises and falls.

City speckled bird,
Dusty wings covered in dirt,
Black gum stained feet,
The salty chips from the street.

All the city, the pigeon's mission,
And it’s stories they do listen.

How much do they know,
Do they read?
How far do they see?
The sacred above the steeple,
People’s angel freeing the unfree
A company of the murky valor.

The eyes and ears of the streets,
Whisper their comings and goings.
The flea ridden and sacred,
Run the show.

Original Poetry & Performance by Laurence Fuller
AI Cinematics by Laurence Fuller
@laurencefuller
http://www.laurencefuller.art/web3

The Sacred

Redemption ~ is a collaboration between the paintings of Peter Howson and the cinematic poetry of Laurence Fuller, in partnership with Matthew Flowers (Flowers Gallery), ONBD and MakersPlace. This piece has exhibited immersively at Lume Studios in NYC and the British Art Fair at Saatchi Gallery.

"Redemption comes to us at a moment of transformation, a moment before revelation. It is not the angels falling from the sky to save us ~ that comes later. It is the first peek at the morning clouds parting, through which that glow may speak, after the ravaging night we left behind us. 

Web3 has enabled us to engage our audience with this universal concept, on the Blockbook platform with Story IP, where the piece has inspired over 25,000 adaptations by artists around the world in just a few weeks ~ an unprecedented level of engagement and a testament to the transformative potential of this work. Its visceral appeal to the human condition, that is the power of poetry when in communication with art. Where the language of words and of visual symbols are in a symphony with each-other.

It is the quiet of a late-night harbor, where homeless drunks grill rats, mongoose and scraps of fish over glowing coals. It is the dust of dreams rising from the fallen rubble of the  playhouse. Revelation follows close behind, and with it, the opportunity for transcendence. It is for those still standing, after the fall." ~ Laurence Fuller

REDEMPTION ~ Poetry by Laurence Fuller
For when I transcend,
A greater fool takes my place,
And in that redemption,
I find the road, for my own way,
Casting my doubts out on the rocking waves,
Begging my sins to wash away.

I clutched at the morning,
It dripped away,
There were tingling rumbles in the streets,
I heard sounds like dropping pennies at my feet,
I must pay my penance,
For the guiltless I do menace,
The sins I have witnessed,
I must not play the victim,
Street lamps glowed at me like the moon,
But they weren’t,
Like the eyes of God in the dark early morning,
Piercing my thoughts,
Like a lamp in my mind,
And my words the the discarded scrap paper thrown out the window,

For when I transcend
A greater fool takes my place
And in that redemption
I find the road, for my own way,
Casting my doubts out on the rocking waves,
Begging my sins to wash away.

Crumpled and landing at the port,
On their way out to sea.
What is going on in our world?
I’ll ask the moon before it fades to the sun,
At long last, I’ll climb the ladder on the bridge from the bottom wrung,
I have struggled to reach even the nearest star,
I grazed my flesh, to check I’m still here,
So many poems to write and never enough time,
Never enough time,
And what have I got for my toil and strife?
Splayed out on the wall for all to see,
This arena of humanity,
Violins playing at the degenerates ball,
This grand opera,
An incomplete Iliad,
I left it unwritten, by my pen and note pad.

Washed against the muddy shore,
Wash up the brilliant and trusted oars of a discarded rowboat that left the trash and seagulls flying with empty cans in their mouths and an empty chest where a ticking clock once was,
The tragedy of the evening and heavy breeze of eternity.

For when I transcend,
A greater fool takes my place,
And in that redemption,
I find the road, for my own way,
Casting my doubts out on the rocking waves,
Begging my sins to wash away.

~ Laurence Fuller, 2024

Redemption

Laurence Fuller ~ Transient Poems

The way absorbs,
Tao illuminates all that is, like a pulsating orb,
Touching the source,
As chaos dissolved order,
Like salt dissolved in water,
Rain on the finger’s of the earth’s daughter,
Hands colliding in flow,
She hands him this note,
The whales speak to us like they know ~ an eternal story on their voice.

by Laurence Fuller 2023

Minted for AI Surrealism "Moment" ~ organized by Exquisite Workers and Superchief Gallery

“Maria Callas Eternal” curated by Kevin DeAngelis & hosted by Transient Labs x Foundation

Born on this day 100 years ago, Maria set the world alight with the passion and intensity of her Operatic performances. And on December 2nd, 2023 we announce our exhibition “Maria Callas Eternal” in collaboration with her estate ~ to find Maria in digital art, adapted from these unreleased recordings.

1607, Mantua Italy the first whisper of the word “Opus” was finding its way through the city and Monteverdi declared that the way to truly move and audience was to “Unite poetry and music”. Audiences flocked to see this collaboration of visual art, poetry, music, performance, set and costume ~ all the senses enticed and engaged in the story of human drama, myth and legend. Opera was born.

Though all these art forms (and most of the stories) existed before, never had the world seen them come together in this way. Much like this exhibition.

August 1942 in Athens ~ Maria Callas at the age of 18, made her professional operatic debut as in “Tosca” by Puccini. The audiences in wartime Greece needed something to believe in, to give them hope as they looked around a Europe devastated by WWII.

2023, as I walked the halls of the British Museum on a recent trip, listening to Maria’s “Medea” in my ears. A world in flux and a culture spreading its fingers and hands out from its marble shackles, as its restraints crumble to floor. I imagined the sculptures coming to life and the people around me all singing along with epic story. Their ghosts yearning for freedom. Then I felt amongst them, out of the shadows ~ I had found Maria’s ghost.

“Maria Callas Eternal ~ Ode to Maria” curated by Kevin DeAngelis exhibition opens on 12/14/23 ~ hosted by Transient Labs x Foundation

Maria‘s Apparition

An Ode to Maria - Laurence Fuller

“Maria Callas Eternal” curated by Kevin DeAngelis & hosted by Transient Labs x Foundation

Born on this day 100 years ago, Maria set the world alight with the passion and intensity of her Operatic performances. And on December 2nd, 2023 we announce our exhibition “Maria Callas Eternal” in collaboration with her estate ~ to find Maria in digital art, adapted from these unreleased recordings.

By Laurence Fuller

Medea ~ Maria's Ghost

The exhibition token for "Fields Of Morning" contains six original pieces ~ Each digital artwork was adapted from the paintings of Kesja Tabaczuk and the poetry of Laurence Fuller.

Fields Of Morning is about our connection to all the world around us, as creators and poets of each moment. About presence and the beauty of being alive. 

The first steps that we take out into the fields each morning with the rising sun, on our road back home again to self discovery. The Lyca character is loosely based on a series of poems by William Blake. 

I first came across Kesja Tabaczuk’s work on social media, the precision and careful deliberation of her works were counterbalanced by elements of the absurd. These wondering wild animals and half finished birds, questioned the mundane.

These masterful portraits, left an open space that was an opportunity for poetic storytelling.

Figurative painting in our time has become more rare and special with the reduction of all art to the instant. Yet we know there are some instants in our lives which rest in our memories with more potency and contemplation than others.

When all you have is sentiment, the imagination has even greater weight than life itself. The world around becomes an extension of our inner lives. And beauty echoes back to us ~ a paradise in this life.

When we were young the fields of the morning find in early memories of Mother Nature, our true potential.

This Exhibition Token is a collaboration between Laurence Fuller and Kesja Tabaczuk.

laurencefuller.art/fields-of-morning

Fields Of Morning Exhibition #1

Fields Of Morning Exhibition #3

Exhibition Tokens ~ Laurence Fuller

This is the genesis piece of The Peter Fuller Project, a groundbreaking fusion of art history, AI, and Web3, reimagining the visionary critiques of Peter Fuller for the digital age.



Peter Fuller was one of the most influential art critics of the 20th century, known for his deep, humanist interpretations of modern art. Now, through AI-driven animation, my narration, and blockchain technology, his insights are being brought to life in a new, immersive format.



This limited edition NFT (100 Editions) serves as the foundational artifact for a larger initiative—one that invites artists, writers, and technologists to engage with Fuller’s legacy in their own creative ways. Future works will translate his critiques into AI-enhanced art, interactive experiences, and multimedia storytelling, weaving together past and future, tradition and innovation.



This piece will also serve as the concept trailer for the feature film project which is ongoing in development and has thus far won 8 Awards for Best Screenplay https://www.laurencefuller.art/peter-fuller-art-critic



By collecting this piece, you become part of a movement to redefine the role of art criticism in the digital age—not just preserving history, but actively participating in its evolution.



Minted from my personal wallet, this piece establishes the foundation of the project before it expands into a wider collaborative initiative.



Collectors of the Genesis Edition will receive:

~ A historical stake in the evolution of The Peter Fuller Project.

~ Early access to future drops & behind-the-scenes updates.

~ Influence in shaping the project’s direction through community engagement.



This is the beginning of a new way to experience art history and the evolution of art criticism.



Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller

@laurencefuller

www.laurencefuller.art

Modern Art ~ The Peter Fuller Project (Genesis Edition)

Modern Art ~ The Peter Fuller Project

The exhibition token for "Fields Of Morning" contains six original pieces ~ Each digital artwork was adapted from the paintings of Kesja Tabaczuk and the poetry of Laurence Fuller.

Fields Of Morning is about our connection to all the world around us, as creators and poets of each moment. About presence and the beauty of being alive.

The first steps that we take out into the fields each morning with the rising sun, on our road back home again to self discovery. The Lyca character is loosely based on a series of poems by William Blake.

I first came across Kesja Tabaczuk’s work on social media, the precision and careful deliberation of her works were counterbalanced by elements of the absurd. These wondering wild animals and half finished birds, questioned the mundane.

These masterful portraits, left an open space that was an opportunity for poetic storytelling.

Figurative painting in our time has become more rare and special with the reduction of all art to the instant. Yet we know there are some instants in our lives which rest in our memories with more potency and contemplation than others.

When all you have is sentiment, the imagination has even greater weight than life itself. The world around becomes an extension of our inner lives. And beauty echoes back to us ~ a paradise in this life.

When we were young the fields of the morning find in early memories of Mother Nature, our true potential.

This Exhibition Token is a collaboration between Laurence Fuller and Kesja Tabaczuk.

laurencefuller.art/fields-of-morning

Laurence Fuller (laurencefuller)

Laurence Fuller (laurencefuller)

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