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Guido Vermeulen's mail art envelopes are like worlds into themselves and at the same time they are part of the much larger whole.

(a comment by NANCY BELL SCOTT, USA, on the IUOMA network)

Guido's paintings are like finding images in the clouds
(a comment by Kathleen D. Johnson, USA, on IUOMA)

Guido does not paint monsters but spirits and ghosts, full of love, tenderness and compassion
(LIZA LEYLA during a conversation, Belgium)

His ability to express emotions through painting is a beautiful gift. Allowing oneself to feel sadness is the most direct route through grief. His paintings feel peaceful and kind.

(STEPHEN WALKER, USA)


My life is shifting... Your work is intangible, ethereal, cosmically rewarding. i eat it up & savor it like a great sandwich! It made my day!
(Lisa PEREZ, USA, on IUOMA)

Thank you for the TALISMAN painting on the envelope. It is real cool and creepy at the same time. I haven’t seen a piece of abstract capture such as pain and emotion so well since I visited the museum of art in Toledo. Bravo!
(Sarah Jo Pender, USA, from the Indiana Women’s Prison)

I suppose you could characterize Guido's painting style as expressionist. I know he is very interested in dreams as a source for art and poetry, and these particular chapter pages seem like shadowy dream corridors filled with shifting images and scenes. The Michaux quotes work as a counterpoint, Guido's art is taking over when the limits of language have been reached.
(De Villo Sloan, USA, on my tribute pages to Henri Michaux, see LAMUSAR blog)

Guido’s art expressions are always poems and they show us the reality of our real faces and souls (Mariana Serban, Romania)

His titles have both inspired and educated me (Alicia Starr, USA)

dinsdag 16 november 2010

ANN IS A POEM WITHOUT ENDING OR BEGINNING



Intervention on a mail art envelope, personal delivery mail to Ann Vandendriessche in Belgium on November 11, accompanied by this poem:

Kinderliedje

Opgedragen aan Ann V



Jij bent mijn sprookjestrein in de wolken
die ik met buitengewone verwondering verken.
Al die verschillende kleuren van je wagons,
die verscheidenheid aan tinten en facetten,
lagen verdriet afgewisseld met goed humeur.
Hoe complex is jouw boosheid
Hoe diep de liefde der rivieren

Reizend door de wolken, door de wolken reizend
In jouw trein zitten enkel speelse kinderen
Pasgeborenen met een volwassen hart
Ze kirren als vogels met open ogen
tegen de lage ramen geplakt.
Ze nemen me bij de hand,
wijzen met hun vingers
naar de verhalen die zij zien
voorbijflitsen op het netvlies van de liefde.

Kijk, een bos, we zitten midden in een bos!
Het bos is geel en Roodkapje heeft nooit bestaan
maar helaas wel de boze wolf in monnikspij.
Kijk, daar is hij! Ze imiteren boze katten,
barsten dan in schaterlach uit.
De wolf verdwijnt, zo bang is hij van de lach.
De wolf gelooft uiteraard in god, zingen de kinderen in koor,
in de eeuwigheid van zijn smerig wolvenbestaan,
in de ziekte van verknechting en de onderdanigheid
en als beloning mag hij alle kinderen opeten.
Maar wij zijn lekker veilig.
Wij zitten in de trein door de wolken,
bepalen zelf zijn snelheid door ons lachen.

Kijk, daar is Ann Smaailing!
Ze is onze lieve machinist.
Ze is een heidens geschenk, een gedicht zonder einde
noch begin, ze is een sprookjestrein reizend door de wolken.


Guido Vermeulen
10-11 november 2010


Translation in English of this poem mailed to Ana Spinu in Romania, for her Yellow Train Project:

A children's song for Ana

You are my fairy tale train in the clouds
whom I explore with extraordinary astonishment.
All these different colors of your wagons,
the diversity of shades and facets,
layers of sadness followed by good humor.
How complex is your anger
How deep the love of your river beds

Traveling through the clouds
I realize that the passengers in your train
are only playful children,
newborns with an adult heart.
They coo like birds with open eyes
glued against the low windows.
They take me by the hand,
point with their fingers
to the stories they are able to see
flashing on the retina of love.

Look, a forest, we are in the middle of a forest!
The forest is yellow and Red Riding Hood has never existed
but the big bad wolf does and wears a the monstrosity of a monk's frock.
Look, there he is! The children start imitating the sounds of angry kittens,
followed then by liberating laughter explosions.
The wolf disappears, so afraid is he of laughter.
The wolf beliefs in god of course, so chant the children in choir,
in the eternity of his dirty wolf existence,
in the disease of servitude and submissiveness
and as reward he may eat all children.
But we are pretty safe!
We travel in a train through the clouds
& determine its speed by our laughs.

Look, there is Ann Smiling!
She is our darling engine-driver,
She is a pagan gift, a present of a poem without ending
or beginning, she is a fairy tale train traveling through the clouds.



Guido Vermeulen, November 2010
Poem dedicated to Ann Vandendriessche
Translation written for Ana Spinu's Yellow Train Project

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