PICPOETRY

Picpoetry: unedited mobile photography and rapidly, almost automatic unedited poetic prose writing, ideally on the spot in order to capture the atmospherics of the specific time and space. I upload all my picpoetry on Instagram under the name picpoet – one of the oldest poets of Instagram combining visual and poetic prose. Picpoetry is a method I invented in 2009 in order to explore an ontology of presence without falling into the standard trappings of visual and textual phenomenology. There have been two waves of picpoetry. The first one, with about 600 picpoems, ended in July 2013 were all except for the very last picpoem were ceremoniously deleted for picpoet’s suicide. The second one, since 2014 and still ongoing, counts more than 1000 picpoems and can be found below and on Instagram.

he dived. he breathed water. he felt.
Mark the world with your mismatching.
Mark the world with your silence.
Mark your world with your absence. 

#ancientmessini
I’d rather you be ok than be mine. I’d rather dwell in the waters their surface rippled by your signing voice, than occupy the terraferma of another continent. I’d rather you swim in my lakes than my rivers corrode your banks. But let me, let me, let me keep on lapping the length of your coasts.
Nothing but the other side. But to see it, you must let it through. This side. And to see it, you must occlude it. Lift your hand, shade the light, and there it is, a visitation, a planetary caress, a dappled morning. 

#leighfermor #benakimuseum
Free floating ladders filled our city. They climbed up the walls of our homes, a new breed of locusts promising eternal promises, eternal eternity, eternal duplication. And we all started climbing like insects sniffing the pollen.
He waited for that knock on his door
That’s why he never did much. All his activities were conditioned by the hypothesis - will it happen now? Halfway through cleaning the bathroom or writing that email or watching that series. He was always ready. So when it came, he grabbed his rucksack and jumped on the stepladder. This one seemed sturdier than the previous one. He might manage to reach up two more floors. It was a long way to the sky but he knew, there will always be ladders visiting. He just had to wait.
And this, she said, is how I’ve learned to live my life. Scared that I won’t be able to escape, never here always in the posture of someone taking leave.
We wrapped up the exhibition Our Distance Became Water and send the works on the water to float. Some go to Greece, some to Washington, some to new homes in other counties and continents. And some came back home, sliding noiselessly in the Venice studio shelves and the flat’s walls. But I think they liked that flight into the outer world because I can feel them fluttering around me, ready to fly out again.
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Detail from 
All ascends carry the weight of the ground they leave behind 
triptych, 
oil paint, gold metal spray and gold leaf on canvas board with found Murano glass and string, 60x100, 2021
Photography by @rothfjell
Her body heard the water and she danced.
In less than a week we take down And Our Distance Became Water, my Venice solo show of paintings and sculptures. I called them ‘painted surfaces’ - I am still so interested in the surface, the way it emerges from the water like a floating promise, not of depths but of a certain being carried away.

Sinking Islands: Black Venice, 2021, oil and tempera paint, gold leaf on discarded forcola wood, found Murano glass.
Even in those moments that you were certain you knew you could feel the hand touching your head, you knew it, it was there, the warmth the attachment the direction, even in those moments that your head rose up to meet it, you knew, in fact you also always knew, that there has never been a hand.
Not just us (a skin of folded skins), not just the other of us (air breathed by slant surfaces), but all of it: us and other of us and other than us, all of it cuts and opens, spreads and sighs, refracts and multiplies.
Firework meditation. Or the world is revealed bigger than you, and you drink it like a spectacle.

#redentore #redentore2022 #venice
Your orange as deep as my blue. 

#redentore2022
#barbarakruger sainthood moment
Something sounded astern, something that brought into our sleep the sussuration of waking stars and surprised starfish. We were forgiven for thinking that something might have been wrong with the world. We were forgiven when we declared our dreams perpetual.
Dr Perez Joli n’est pas là.
We sit opposite that hole on the facade of time and just talk. We bridge the openness with discourse and the darkness with side stares. We don’t listen because we say, what’s to listen, no one’s talking. We endure our own lack of reflection, our absorption into the surface that commands our slow self-obliteration. We survive but how.
“But on a day like today, when the water gets sharpened rough against the breeze, flat surface facing the sky, rectilinear nuptials, the grand parallel of otherness:  on a day like this, the sound darts so sharply that our vowels become razors and our dipthongs lacerate the air 
like torrent, 
oh 
it is too much, 
the whole thing becomes an echo”
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Performance for one person, three voices and three languages, Our Distance Became Water, Ca’ Pisani, Friday 8th of July. Thanks to @prince_katz for stepping in at the very last moment and yet rising to the horizontality of the occasion, to Marco Gandini for translating into Italian and stentorially performing, and to @capisanihotelvenice for enabling and organising another beautiful event. Pic by Sam Fiorenza
But I am not climbing. I am not going up those ladders. I am not building any more floors on top of our roofs. I am not rearranging the scaffolding. I am not rising. I am not going back to the vertical of skyscrapers and airplanes. I am not standing taller than this lake that covers the world. I am not looking at it from above. Not again. There is only water. There is nothing but flatness. I am not doing it.
Doing my dooda at the magnificent EASST - the biennial STS gathering, invited by Michela Cozza and Sally Wyatt. I was crawling under seats and feet before, so I needed a good drenching :)
Of all the windows in her life, she always opens first the one that looks inside.
She slid on the other side of the dream, never to wake up again.
Nothing to report. The city comes in through the window, and with it slides the evening, a red reminder of the sky on the other side.
She held that world so fast in her hands, so fast that it drowned, so fast that it blossomed into a sea, so fast that she dived in and dwelled in it, again and again
Berlin evenings. A garden round the corner of the building. A soft rose wine. Two candles, a few shadows. Berlin evenings like pearls.
Promise.
Don’t worry. I will keep an eye over you. 
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#richardbell #richardbellembassy #documenta #kassel #documentafifteen #embassy
We sit and listen. No one talks. We sit and listen to each other. No one talks. We sit and listen to what the other is. No one talks. We sit and listen to what we are. No one needs to talk.
When your body belongs to others. The US is proving once again a failed, hypocritical and corrupt country. Disgust and fear of what is happening to this world. 

#roevswade #roevwade #abortionrights #prolife but a real life where you choose where your love will go
Play with me. One of my terraces has been taken over by angry rabbits. The other by yoga mats. The other by the wind who uses it as her bed. The other was mine but I decided to give it to you.
We are all multiplicities.
Touch for forest.
Posted @withregram • Do not miss the exhibition "Our distance bacame water" by Andreas Philippopoulos - Mihalopoulos @picpoet: a reflection on climate change and social distancing through paintings and sculptural installations made with recycled materials embellished with gold leaf and Murano glass.

May 28th 2022 - July 10th 2022
Every day from 10am to 7pm
Free admission, in compliance with the Covid regulations 

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Non perdetevi la mostra "Our distance became water" di Andreas Philippopoulos - Mihalopoulos : una riflessione sul cambiamento climatico e distanziamento sociale attraverso dipinti e installazioni scultoree realizzate con materiali di riciclo impreziositi da foglia d’oro e vetro di Murano.

28 Maggio 2022 -10 Luglio 2022
Tutti i giorni dalle 10 alle 19
Entrata libera, nel rispetto della normativa in vigore
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#visitvenice #fallinlovewithveniceagain #fallinlovewithvenice #hotelinvenice #capisanihotel #capisanihotelvenice #dorsoduro
Sometimes she couldn’t tell whether her bowl became the sea outside or the sea outside had nestled in her bowl.
Materially just : just the material please, not the form // materially just : here with, not for // materially just: flow with an element that is of you but not you // but also, go against an atmosphere that is you but not you (notes on a new project)
Swapping Venice for London/Berlin/Kassel/Valencia/Madrid and leaving my show behind to breathe away from me. It feels good to take some distance. It allows it to become water. I’ll be back for the finissage though! 
Pic by @loshedinspace
These islands were left on the surface of a foamy dream, coasts frazzled like lace punctured in another lagunar island. These islands forever horizontal, forever battling the vertical messiah, forever losing.
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Sinking Islands: Funafuti, 2020, egg tempera and gold leaf on discarded forcola wood and found Murano glass. 
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Currently on show at Our Distance Became Water, Ca’ Pisani Venice, till 10th of July
Breathe around your desire.
You shut the door behind you. Not particularly loudly but enough. Something moved in the eaves, something shook at the water below the foundations. Imperceptible. And the building gave up its spirit like a quiet glass of an evening past.
There was a city in the city in the city. And in that inner city, water was surging, flooding all streets and rooms, spreading out towards the other cities. 
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Sinking City 2019, egg tempera and gold leaf on discarded forcola wood and found Murano glass. 
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Currently on show at Our Distance Became Water, Ca’ Pisani Venice, till 10th of July
Sometimes he thought that Venice was about to be swallowed by a vast wave. The wave would come from Pellestrina. It would fly above the island and reach the city on a warm early spring evening, when the green of her gardens and terraces would be indistinguishable from the green of the water. 
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Sinking City VII, 2020
oil and gold metal paint on canvas
75×30

Currently on show at Ca’ Pisani Venice, part of my solo exhibition of paintings and sculptures Our Distance Became Water. 10:00-19:00 everyday until the 10th of July.
We opened the exhibition Our Distance Became Water at the beautiful but challenging piano nobile of Ca’ Pisani, amongst friends from all over Europe and the city of Venice. It was a lovefest that carried on for three days. It was all worth it just to listen to the extraordinary soprano Rosie Forbes-Butler giving a vocalised guided tour of the works, on an undulating lagunar soundscape by the genius @iforduncan
When installing (by the heroic Ivano) matches the art. @davidcass.art father asked me, why stepladders. I could not say this: It’s the promise of a future that isn’t delivered. It’s the need to climb higher even though we all know we are bound to be disappointed. It’s the space of judgement in our own private Sinai. But to David’s father I just said, oh I like the form! (Also true)
The process of having your work framed is similar to what I feel when I have my texts translated. It’s a process of trusting, of ceding the voice, of inviting another person to mediate the journey of artistic expression. And when it works, it’s miraculous. Grazie @ferraribravocornici
How to stop stressing about everything? Jump into a new thing that brings the canal water in the studio. 
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Double Promise, 2022, charcoal, oil paint and oil pastels, gold metal spray on canvas board and carton, 80x50 (in progress)
Getting ready for the opening of my exhibition and revisiting some of my early pieces. It’s a tender moment. It’s surprisingly not a self-hating, cringing moment at my two-years ago self. It’s a moment of contact. You’re ok. It’s ok.
Hold that canal. Hold it fast. It tends to slip through one’s fingers. Promise me you won’t let it. I need you to hold this canal. And then give it to me one evening when the words will no longer be enough.
A piece of Venice. A chunk of water. A yawn of gold. A dive into a green. A detail in a forest.
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Sinking Cities III, 2022 (detail)
I am sure it’s #banksy
Bring your night into my day. Let your stars shower over me like morning dew. Let me climb the staircase to your dusk. Let us never meet in light or darkness.
Carte-postale from the other side of Trieste.
Join me this Wednesday 6 CET online for a workshop on water, law, art and vulnerability at TBA/Ocean Space Venice. Posted @withregram • @tba21academy 🌊 Workshop alert!
If water could write the law…

OCEAN / UNI, our online educational initiative, is not only about listening. In addition to the regular sessions, the program offers "activations" - workshops for smaller groups intended to provoke advancement from theory to practice and invite participants to engage and respond.

On Wednesday, May 4, at 6pm, OCEAN / UNI will host a workshop on vulnerability with law professor and artist Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos and former Ocean Fellow @justinedaquin , departing from a reading of the 'case of Khlaifia and others v. Italy,' a legal judgment issued in 2016 by the European Court of Human Rights.

The participants will be asked to respond in writing to the question: "How would we like the courts to examine the question of vulnerability?" The objective of the workshop is to shed light on the legal situation in the Mediterranean Sea and produce a hybrid and radical text freed from the traditional structure of a legal judgment.

Register via community.ocean-archive.org (link in bio!), or send us a DM for more information.

📷 Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos @picpoet, Direction, Interrupted, 2022, oil and gold metal spray paint on canvas bard, 85x60 (detail), image courtesy of the artist.

#oceanuni #activation #workshop #law #art #judgement #mediterraneans #thecurrent
I don’t know how to listen to this red. I don’t think I’ve even tried. Can I become anything if the red hasn’t been listened to?
Invite is out! Opening on the 27th of May, in less than a month, my Venice solo show Our Distance Became Water, at Ca’ Pisani, curated by Marianna Serandrei. Excited! Nervous! Excited! If you wanna come to the opening, lemme know - the stupenda Rosie Forbes Butler will be water-vocalising some of the works on a soundscape recorded by @iforduncan in the venetian laguna. A catalogue book will be available at the opening designed by Sakis Kyratzis with critical texts by Lucy Reynolds and @davidwest_studio
To become forever another. Yet to persist in you. This is the haunting of the waters.
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With an evanescent @amarlena at the most stunning Venice biennale #serbianpavilion of all times by #vladimirnikolic
The night you hoped all stars would fall through the earth. 
#drift #aorist #oceanspace #venicebiennale #tba
#vladiminikolic #serbianpavilion #venicebiennale #walkingwithwater
Once again we try to discover what makes us by digging into what keeps us standing. Once again, we fail.
#germanpavilion2022 #mariaeichhorn #biennaledivenezia
Those blankets of light that became colours as soon as you dived in them. Molecular modulations of one breath, one gaze, one distance, one repetition.
The happy hippy hipster haplessly hyping it.
He had a way of looking at things, from afar as if a lifelong myopia made him unable to engage. But the planet starting rising, the rot started reaching him, the rust of his discarded guilt started climbing up his thighs. Dig in, Sir. Rubbish might suit you.
I dress for the sun, I dress for spring, I dress for art. I dress for a return to the savage green of our childhood lawns.
This is the way out of the university. This is the way into the universe. Please walk with me till you come across the gap. Then jump.
Only a sample. And most of it will change. But good finally to hold it.
https://eris.press/The-Book-of-Water-2
Only through water I can see your face, clear double refracted luminous. Only through other bodies I can see your body, sleek smooth smouldering.
It felt like the first last sun. It came into the room and darted for the painting. It stayed there for just a bit longer, helping the earth to slow down, linger said the sun, linger in these days of sorrow and beauty.
“At the time of our leaving, what gazed at us from above now gathers below”
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Mixed technique, 30ø x 10cm, 2022
My first gig in Greece! Performance lecture on water, Titian, and planetary death at Onassis Stegi on Saturday 2nd of April at 17:30 on “Oceans of Eternity: A Contract Unto Extinction” followed by  a panel with @chloesflowersinthenight and Nabil Ahmed on ecological justice. Grateful to curators Jussi Parikka and @daphne_dragona for inviting me to their boom boom amazing exhibition on Weather Engines. Cannot wait!
Your body parts, lakes scattered across the continent. You once asked me whether I really knew you. I swam underground, found the undercurrents and gave you the map. But where are you, you asked.
“Russian carpet bombing”
Oh yes I can name them all. Guilt, anger, desire, shame. But cannot access them, however much I keep on looking. Once I winked at myself and heard a door creaking open. But the light was too strong.
In the round of my hands, a sphere and a face, yours and the world’s, symbol of hollow, hollow symbol, can only the gaze remain once the face departs, I have often felt the smoke of snuffed candles coming out of your windows those midnights I waited on the street below.
You worked so hard. Your body and your planet, the industry of the landscape, fiery froths and iridescent iron rows visible from outer space. Where do you rest, where do you dive, where do you come to die? It’s all the same now, one frantic becoming.
OK, book your long weekend flights! My solo show in Venice is opening on Friday the 27th of May, 2022. It will be a fairly large show with some recent work mostly made in Venice of sculptures and paintings. The opening on the 27th of May, to which you are most cordially invited, will host a rather spectacular performance by experimental soprano Rosie Forbes Butler on an aquatic soundscape by @iforduncan. Catalogue will include texts by @davidwest_studio and Lucy Reynolds. I also have a discount code for accommodation - inbox me!
Conversation piece with flying jellyfish #anickayi
Law and Video Art
Thursday 10 Feb 2022, 15:00 - 19:00
Room CG.02
University of Westminster,
15 New Cavendish St, 
London W1B 2HW

Participating Artists @iforduncan @helene_kazan @mhamad__safa @nicole_noze_arts 

Works by the artists will be shown and followed by open discussions without panels, where the participating audience will be able to get involved.

Book your place at lawandtheory.com/event-details/law-video-art

PHOTO CREDIT Helene Kazan, Engineering Shelter, Multi-media Film Installation, 2015. Courtesy of the artist.
She invited me to sit down. She knew that after all these years of walking the earth, tracing the tender arch between me and nothingness, I only needed three things: a spot to sit, water to sip, someone to talk with.
She collected encounters like postcards, her moment with the spring breeze coming from the river, the taste of her nephew’s cheek, the feel of velvet so near the fireplace. She then locked the door and closed her eyes.
Floating on a sea of books. Talking and listening about materiality and movement with the most delectable group of people - the amazing SLASHERS!
That day when your body pointed below and the space around you pointed above. That day your face tried to find the horizon. That day you dived in below and rose up above, in one magnificent arching swan movement
He spent every morning on that seat, a box on his lap, collecting pieces of light to eat in the evening before going to bed. It was the only way that his dreams would not be dark.