Laurence Fuller

AI generated EpoHero, king of paradise, Token #2706

king of paradise

We have something to tell you Redford, this world is not as it seems ~ I want you to open your eyes, so the shine can enter your soul. Everything is about to change.

City Nightmares: Sublimation  ~ is the third and final chapter in this series of poetic cinematic fine art pieces. Poetry & Performance & AI animation, art & music by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller www.laurencefuller.art/web3

City Nightmares III: Sublimation

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

Stray too far from the path of light and you may find yourself in the Valley Of The Witch.

AI by Laurence Fuller & Dolce Paganne  
Poetry & Sound & Performance by Laurence Fuller

VALLERY OF THE WITCH

Let me tell you of a forest;  
In the darkest quarries, the shadows of heroes,  
Fallen warriors buried beneath the trees.  
Harmonies heard from a chorus of birds,  
Their gravestones an army of trees.  
Where each fold of its root, a word carved in the wood.  
The seven sins dug as deep as they could  
Voices around a crackling fire.  
Rose in the smoke that made the whole wood exhale and choke.  
Like a flurry of locusts had gained possession of old English,  
They spoke the most feverish pitch,  
In the valley of the witch.

Words that turned their bellies inside out,  
Words that wrote the future and pulled skeletons from men’s mouths.  
The chattering visions in the creaking house,  
If your heart were kept before the golden swords,  
Then it's beating stopped in the hairs wicked lords.  
Tickling the soul with luscious laws,  
Were you madder when we met,  
Or madder than before.  
Line up, there’s order in the court,  
Nymphs, spiders, voles and fauns.  
A paddock of crows,  
Peck the bastard child's of yore.  
Can you hear, the sins of yesteryear,  
Wrap around one another.  
The death of a sultan,  
Gives us pause upon a darker custom.  
~ Laurence Fuller, 2023

Valley Of The Witch ~ Laurence Fuller x Dolce Paganne

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

All was calm in days undone,

Like cool poetry written in the fading sun, 

The tepid peace in Elysium,

To the rousing of all glum senators,

Simple contentment, a king's decree, 

Now shattered silence, a symphony.



A ripple stirred in that Amphitheatre,

A lone poet though none could hear his whispers;



“I looked up to you,

More than you know,

I worked so hard for your love,

My world shattered in half,

As you rained down terror above,

Your disappointment, more than enough,

But who can we ever really know?”



Scales slither through sand and marble, through quiet ambience,

Soldiers of beauty, once solid in repose, Engulfed by serpents, and all that they know



To live and love by the weeping rose,

They hold on tight,

As they writhe.



On parchment and coins, the day takes its form, 

A tapestry woven in a gathering storm.

The king dethroned, by whispers untold, 

The court's grand illusion, a story grown cold. 

Golden-clad warriors, bathed in sun's fire, Ozymandius fallen, his reign as a liar.



A king beheaded, a crown cast aside, 

His deeds writ in whispers, where vipers reside. 

Metaphors slithering, a venomous truth, 

The court a viper's den, devoid of youth.

In pits of darkness, where shadows convene, 

Teeth glinting like stars, in a writhing scene. Golden statues weep, in the flickering light, Power in their poisonous bite.



On parchment and pennies in time,

Every morning we make up this life.



A den of vipers swirl in the pits,

Beneath soldiers of beauty,

How their teeth shine,

With all the burning light and wriggling night,

The golden climbs of each statue that shines.



Power in their poison,

One day it happened, those vipers burst forth,

From the populous and revealed their scales,

He saw at last from the shadows, the truth does prevail,

A different side to their tail,

Reigning with venom, reigning in hell,

From the depths of the soul.



A kaleidoscope of gnashing teeth,

Lift the people in the watery depths of Rome,

Out of the unknown.



An army awakened, in serpent-filled skies.

From their sleeping states it makes,

Sliding wrasps they whisper those secret texts,

Amphitheatres echo, with slithering calls, 

A kaleidoscope gnashing, through crumbling walls. 

From Rome's watery depths, a people arise.



The vipers erupted, from shadows they came, 

Scales glinting, revealing a world aflame. Senates consumed, by whispers that creep, A reign of damnation, where nightmares sleep.



Rise a monarch.

From this pit, from this source,

His sword no better than what came before,

Rise in the night, rise now and fight.



From the tomb of their tranquil plight;

Surprise.



Hold cutlets and daggers by your side,

This is your time, arise.  
~ Laurence Fuller, 2024

Created for NFTcc, Immersive Exhibit in Rome 2024 with Satyrus Gallery

Poetry & AI Animation & Music & Produced & Performed by Laurence Fuller  
@LaurenceFuller  
www.laurencefuller.art  


Serpent Filled Skies

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

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

SOHO was originally written in collaboration with The Verse Verse and the estate of Allen Ginsberg ~ inspired by my trips to New York, the people I’ve met and adventures I’ve been on. Red bricks and terraces contrast a New York street from any other. The rain is always present, wether falling or in potential. But there is a soul to this city as if it were a poet to all the world. When Ana Maria Caballero, Sasha Stiles and Elisabeth Sweet contacted me to contribute a poem to After Ginsberg I was at the time roaming the streets of Soho writing poetry. I swiftly acquired a copy of “Gates Of Wrath" from a booksellers on the streets of Brooklyn. Ginsberg saw in his poetics, as in his collection “Gates Of Wrath” which takes its name from the poem by William Blake;

“To find the Western path,
Right thro' the Gates of Wrath,
I urge my way;”

Comparing those gates to the gates of Manhattan, walking through its sun drenched streets ~ in the Spring which May at any point turn to grey. At times Ginsberg spoke of a writhing hell in Manhattan as much as cascading angels. It was for him the devil’s parlour. I saw that parlour too and sat on its couch, its smoke filled rooms of a culture on the tides of change.

Ginsberg was at a vital part of that tide in his time. Where structures of tradition, perhaps the best of tradition was overhauled by the radicalisation of the changing times. Poetry was protest, love was protest, humanity was protest. 

Soho came at a time when for me I felt lost wandering New York without direction ~ but for where the street guided me and the promise of digital art I thought if romance fell from the sky, it must land on the streets of Soho and those pavements where Ginsberg tread, outside the theatre down Broadway. Below were the pigeons perched on bronze sculptures that changed in the sunlight throughout the day. 

I wondered into bars throughout Manhattan with my poetry book in hand and visits to the Chelsea Hotel ~ accompanied at times by the curator Haiver as we discussed the state of digital art, whiskeys in hand.

At the time I was releasing the Fable exhibition with SuperRare ~ I felt as if a transformation was occurring, and once it did the world world around had changed. I had changed, things would never be the same, and poetics of my life. I saw the city and its people in a chorus of poetry unlike any other. The buildings touched the skyline and Ginsberg’s ghost whispered to me of a letter I had not sent.

Below is that letter.

SOHO

Burlesque where I went that day,
Through the smoke and pink,
Red and black lingerie,
It’s left and ran away,
To the dance floor, to dance all day,
I write the ending on each page,
Write in hopeless decay,
She arrived and went away,
It’s unlike everything on display,
Staring at the flower of the faded stained and hopeless hour,
Redress the red dress,
Garters stretched across soft skin,
A potent pink flesh,
A single sweet intoxicating voice trembles in the seductive silence,
Like a hummingbird’s tweet in a volcanoes' chaos.
Bizarre disturbance like a flaming cross,
Into the wretched gardens where we lost,
Umbrella’s shade hides the despair,
Hides the raincoat of violence,
Secret rooms where they exist,
Find you in the parlour of the rubrics cube boudoir,
Pipes and libraries,
Serpents and time burning,
Spurned to the last this club’s hurting my eyes,
Dusted the cupboards well enough surely,
Desire, lined up by a house of lies.

It seems so sweet,
Though tinged with the devil’s hashish,
I will pull you under,
Where the merchants peddle their feet,
Above the devil’s conceit.

Stuck in the halls,
The blank pages,
Rusted frames on the walls,
My own note could be the mark of the sages,
Enough of the pigs trough through the pages,
I know what I’ve done
Capital down the sink,
Capital on the run,
Circles on the pages,
Ashes in my drink,
Cigarettes in the sink,
Painters friends and myrtle,
Worried so they think,
I climbed the walls of the museum,
And visit the visions,
Pure splash of paint,
Pure chains of fate,
Paint the relish of subconscious tastes,
Odalisque why was there dark patches,
Wondering alone with a notepad and pen,
Carrying these lonesome bags,
Where is happiness in the bricks and stains,
I’m never scared,
Never hoping,
Doesn’t care,
Silence is broken,
As I walk down Mayfair,
Paintings stacked from the floor,
Much of the time, I’m at their door knocking for hours,
Lost in limbo,
Cello struck a chord,
It’s bow damp in the twilight,
It’s player dripping from rain,
Suits soaked and puddles in the floor boards,
Have I become such an arbiter of degradation,
Sectioned off by the yellow lines at the train station,
Never met her shadows in the park,
Because it was too dark already,
Madeline maiden, of the darkest arts,
Stumbled at the start.
Burnt perfume thick with lavender oil,
The pastiche black, colors of a geisha’s umbrella,
I loved her, in my own sick way,
I wanted her, still perhaps to this day,
It’s easy to take shots at a man in love, for we love in secret
The mirrors always in front of our eyes,
Guilty by suspicion and always suspect in disguise,
But still I smile,
Maybe it’ll be good enough this time,
I feel like I’ve done my best,
I left my stool at the burlesque,
An aging ticket fell from my pocket,
We can put it all to rest,
Holy and entropic,
Close to my chest.
~ Laurence Fuller, 2024

SOHO

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

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

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

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