When encountering a work of Felieke one is always catching a glimpse of two feelings fighting inside oneself: first is the realization that somebody just played a joke, and second is that this somebody didn't just make a joke, but took the piss in the most incredibly primitive manner, which at the same time is quite elaborate... not to say offensive.
How could it happen… I am so smart ... fifteen-love. “Thirty-love!” a voice echoes from inside - “nobody likes to feel like a complete philistine, observing the reflection in the mirror...” while the eyes are busy looking for a life belt in the corner.
The Educated One is nervously searching through one's brain, exhuming gigantic volumes on history of art from memory cells, in an attempt to somehow save one's own dignity.
Blowing the dust of time off their rustling pages numerous crowds of various characters appear to one's mind's eye, many they are, maimed by human thoughts, creatures of
Mesopotamian or Scythian origin. And, there is something weird in their circumambulation in the sky, the mutants of Ramesses IV hunting together with infantile, bloodthirsty
predators of Medieval Europe.
In the event, of course, of one's persistence in this unhealthy wish to find an analogue, or a comparison.
is it really worth it...
Any comparison kills, so.
Let's leave this unrewarding business for the grateful descendants and the killers in the field of art expertise.
And the mirror is not the one to blame.
Any artist is making a portrait of a contemporary, one way or the other… but not every artist is destined to leave a footprint.
Relax and enjoy.
When Felieke was born, God smiled.
© DE I / DESILLUSIONIST #05. “FELIEKE VAN DER LEEST. TWO FEELINGS”