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.

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.
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.
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
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.
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”
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.
In the beginning was the reflection.
The glass retains the heat of its melting. It just needs a morning ray to catch fire again. And that fire is golden. 
Sinking Cities I, tempera and gold leaf on discarded gondola oak wood and discarded Murano glass, 2020
Our dreams had an iridescent quality, a rush of a past never lived, borrowed nostalgia, unowned futures. But we still preferred to dwell there.
He just wanted to fly across the water and win all the prizes. No motors, just wind and wings. No colours, just mist. No earth, just air.
Anyone wanna play with my toys? While I was taking the pictures of my sculptures for the catalogue of my upcoming solo show (27th of May at Ca’ Pisani, Venice) on a quiet winter Venice canal, people were stopping and looking at me trying not to drop things in the canal. But the best was that venetian lady of a certain age and prestige, who asked whether she could play along :) Yes please! And she started trying out different combinations and positions and I saw my little Sinking Cities coming alive!
Sinking Cities I, egg tempera and gold leaf on gondola oak wood pieces and found wood pieces in london, discarded Murano pieces, 2019
The city, the sign, the passer by, the gaze, the memory, the moment, the future, the emotion. You. Me. Time.
All this barely repressed longing for the other half, he mused. He cut the boiled egg sideways and a slow container opened somewhere nearby. All that fragility, he sighed. He grabbed the pomegranate from his list of gods and tore it apart with his fingers. But here the worlds are many, the longing turns inside.
Ready for you baby
“Levels of promise, levels of letting down”
Mixed technique, 85x60cm, 2021
We breathed in water, we exhaled air, we became each other’s medusa. 
Gold metallic spray paint and oil paint on canvas, 20x20cm, 2022 (in progress)
Oh so THIS is how I’m supposed to wear this new leather apron! Duh :) Happy 2022 everyone!
By the blue outpour I placed three emotions. I then sat by and watched them being washed away.
The grotto of our desires, shinier from without, a box of childhood within.
Wear me around your eyes, a necklace for the longest night, a pillow of promise, a box where you’ll keep your little loss. Don’t take me off until you wake up and your eyes become the horizon.
Out of our wings grows a descent into another promise.
gold metal spray, oil paint and string on canvas board, 80x40, 2021
He always had a way of finding my window. No counting or remembering. Just coming into it from below, like a water surge whose fingers knew exactly which recesses to caress and which to let go.
Video performance and splitting selves at @maatmuseum for the truly important art/architectural/political Green Paper book by @lucinda__correia and @counterarchitecture
The normalisation of water.
Doing a performance talk thing at Lisbon’s MAAT (Museu de Arte, Arquitetura e Tecnologia) this Thursday for @lucinda__correia amazing Green Book. 
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘗𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘑𝘰𝘴é 𝘈𝘥𝘳𝘪ã𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘴-𝘔𝘪𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘴. 

Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos é um académico, artista e autor de ficção. Participou na 58ª Bienal de Arte de Veneza de 2019, na 16ª Bienal de Arquitetura de Veneza de 2016 e em intervenções na Tate Modern, no Inhotim - Instituto de Arte Contemporânea do Brasil, na Danish The Royal Cast Collection da Dinamarca, na Royal Music Academy da Suécia, bem como noutras instituições. É Professor de Direito e Teoria na Universidade de Westminster e fundador e Diretor do The Westminster Law & Theory Lab.

𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘴-𝘔𝘪𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤, 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵, 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 58𝘵𝘩 𝘝𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘦 2019, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 16𝘵𝘩 𝘝𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘉𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘦 2016, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘮 - 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳â𝘯𝘦𝘢 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘙𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘈𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘢𝘸 & 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘸 & 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘓𝘢𝘣. 

📸 ©Tim Marsden

#greenpaper #livroverde #counterarchitecture #contraarquitetura #maat #efabula #future #futuro #urbanity #urbanidade #fct #lisboacapitalverde #teatropraga @lisboagreencapital2020 @maatmuseum @teatropraga @fa_ulisboa @ulisboa @iscte_iul @nova_fcsh @oxford_uni @picpoet @joseadriaoarquitetos
I will find my extensions. They are lying low, speaking to the world in tongues of fingeredges. They were here before me. I will become an extension of my extensions.
He was looking forward to those nights when the water rose and he could just float out of the window like a pet jelly fish sneaking out to explore the world.
This is all I want, she said. To become one with everything. And she laid down her want and her I and her all, and the world covered her like an autumn blanket.
Join the dots. They will lead you nowhere. Join the dots. You need the circle. Join the dots. You are afraid of empty. Join the dots. They are endless.
Performing Justice, one gesture at a time.
Deodorising capitalism.
 #hauserwirth #georgecondo
Elated to be part of The Mnemosyne-Initiative first group exhibition at the Metaverse Biennale @artgatevr. Thank you to @centerforhellenicstudies for supporting and recognizing the initiative during 2020/21, giving the myth of Mnemosyne a voice in times of loss, sorrow, and instabilities. Humbled to be amongst the nine extraordinary artists from nine countries (like the nine muses! Get it?) who regularly met in zoom for more than a year and developed concepts of memory reviving the myth of Mnemosyne into the present and future.  Thank you @christophquarch and @picpoet for your continuous scholarly support through in depth philosophy workshops and inspiring conversations.  We are so excited about the opportunity to present the Mnemosyne in the Metaverse tomorrow.  #artgatevr #metaverse #memory #mnemosyne #exhibtion #annagillespie #billadair #irisbrosch #albertbonay #dorahartist #dorah #artemisherber #perlakrauze #marcrobarge #picpoet #christophquarch #akademie_3 #centerforhellenicstudies #goldendoorsofinfinity #artcollision @marcrobarge @krauzeperla @artemisherber @albertbonay @williamadair @annagillespiesculpture @irisbrosch_art @dorah_artist
My one eye opens inwards worlds of sea without blue. My other eye opens outwards waiting till you swim to me. That door though will never open.
I’m not that mean. Only if you ask nicely.
Once I find the tools, I’ll make the master’s house a comfortable little hovel. 
Doting II, architectural clay, glaze, wood, metal. 15x22x10, 2021
That thing called contrast, that thing called fairytale, that thing called capitalism, that thing called shade, that thing called refuge, that thing called mirror, that thing called time, that thing called nowhere.
In a far away country, there was once a girl with orange lips. They brought her here to learn her secrets. She made moonjuice and water canapés. They all ate and drunk. Their lips turned orange too. And the girl was forgotten.
Vertical high it becomes deep, cloud folds swallows, the up becomes the below, but even when you finally manage to breathe pure sky, you will never manage to forget the earth.
Sometimes I wish you couldn’t see me.
Speak to me of the times when you had another self next to you, do you still remember? and you touched the world with two souls, opened already to each other, open forever to the outside.
The city is a garden of kindness. Here for a weekend break after many years, and I managed to leave my suitcase at the airport bus. The thought of replacing all that I lost was too much. But then @lola.kiko appears out of nowhere, having found the suitcase and located me. Thank you for being such a wonderful human being.
Holding the light, lightly.
I will keep forever watching me watching me, wondering whose shadow this has been. #catherineyass #ambikap3
My body is a building, a temple, a vestibule. My mind is a cloud, a terrace, a window. My needs are underground, my fears are growing where the jasmine grows. My ever is in my belly, my never on my skin. #catherineyass #ambikap3
We will never, ever open. #friezemasters
We are all complicit. Still from online performance Slashing Waters, twin camera, 20 mins on double screen, available on my website andreaspm.com
I always dive upwards, he said. The splash is gentler, the breath holds longer. And the seabed pulses with the luminescence from other planets.
We used to be shadows.
There was a pill we all took, the journey was long but we were asleep, we woke up and we could finally see, stars and skies upside down.
‘Slowly sinking ascending’, triptych, 30x72cm, 2021 (in progress)

This is the last work I’m trying to finish before leaving Venice. It’s more visceral than the rest, yet the omnipresent jellyfish have now become more part of the material, without paint of their own but just movements made with a brush dipped in Venetian Turpentine on the existing gold paint layer. Something subtler, something fiercer. It might be the departure from the waters.
Your roundedness your arching your spherical your heightened, they are everywhere
Small bleeding ways out.
We looked at different mirrors and thought we were seeing each other. Yet the connection was made. And on its taught lines, miniature deers and flying fishes were hanging like Murano grapes.
You let me touch an early spring, it was the year before you were born, it was filled with roses but no scent, you said now you’ll know me, I waited, your halo slid down the skirt of the planet, nothing to risk nothing to gain, I waited, nothing to dive in nothing to drink, I no longer wait.
He opened both windows because he didn’t know which way the moonlight was going to come in the house. He wanted to be prepared.
Let the viscera climb up
Drawing battle lines as if they were embraces.
Your name was written on the floor as if we were all ready to forget it.
“All ascends carry the weight of the ground they leave behind ”
Triptych, Oil paint, gold metallic spray and gold leaf on canvas board, 60x100cm, 2021