Crisis Galore, Wings Petite
tm•galleria
2.7.–26.7.2025
[log entry 6347: retired miner, carpathian mtn range]
Excess… snakes eggs, rosy cheeks, citrusy notes, polished rocks on the mantelpiece, green flame in the hearth, flutes harmonizing, motor oil from the tap, tinted quadruple window panes, succulent solar flares, dead cell dust blowing in the icy tornadoes…Darkness and
Wait
Lets not get ahead of ourselves
As I sip a vintage mother’s milk
Permafrost cloaks the plains
Crows and horses have formed an alliance
Apparent huge mineral gains.
I’m the last one to hop on the rails
Just can’t get used to chugging oil
I used to be a miner,
listening to rocks
But nowadays I live above the sea because the world government doesn’t want to recognise me
I sit in the porch whistling the day away
For decades I’ve been saving for a Coup de grâce
After the latest Helicops bloodlust
Mine’s the last house standing in the cul-de-sac
I was born for burning, my hearts aflame,
with every spark, a new name
My son graduated from flight school
His tongue sore
I’ve updated my memory core in the days of yore
to contain human lore - It’s such a bore
who doesn’t want more?
Iron ore. That’s where it’s at.
Fresh molten goods, anvil and a hammer
Sunshine, little wind - No
Ants may have been the answer
Everybody and their mom knows
There’s a metallic predator who stalks the weak,
it’s a fool’s errand, the infinite peak,
even the Endurance sank to the bottom of the seas,
Poor lighthouse keeper, he lost the keys
The impending doom for thousand years,
final catharsis still not here
For those who fly and those who crawl~
What am I going to wear to the cremator’s ball?
photographed by Anna Niskanen
Excess… snakes eggs, rosy cheeks, citrusy notes, polished rocks on the mantelpiece, green flame in the hearth, flutes harmonizing, motor oil from the tap, tinted quadruple window panes, succulent solar flares, dead cell dust blowing in the icy tornadoes…Darkness and
Wait
Lets not get ahead of ourselves
As I sip a vintage mother’s milk
Permafrost cloaks the plains
Crows and horses have formed an alliance
Apparent huge mineral gains.
I’m the last one to hop on the rails
Just can’t get used to chugging oil
I used to be a miner,
listening to rocks
But nowadays I live above the sea because the world government doesn’t want to recognise me
I sit in the porch whistling the day away
For decades I’ve been saving for a Coup de grâce
After the latest Helicops bloodlust
Mine’s the last house standing in the cul-de-sac
I was born for burning, my hearts aflame,
with every spark, a new name
My son graduated from flight school
His tongue sore
I’ve updated my memory core in the days of yore
to contain human lore - It’s such a bore
who doesn’t want more?
Iron ore. That’s where it’s at.
Fresh molten goods, anvil and a hammer
Sunshine, little wind - No
Ants may have been the answer
Everybody and their mom knows
There’s a metallic predator who stalks the weak,
it’s a fool’s errand, the infinite peak,
even the Endurance sank to the bottom of the seas,
Poor lighthouse keeper, he lost the keys
The impending doom for thousand years,
final catharsis still not here
For those who fly and those who crawl~
What am I going to wear to the cremator’s ball?
photographed by Anna Niskanen
Borrowed Time
Poriginal Galleria
10.8.–27.8.2024
About Time
As a child, time felt endless, like a shapeless pool in which it was easy to float. Blissfully indifferent to the future and the past, it’s easy to experience things without prejudice and with innocence. By appreciating the transient nature of everything, one can understand the deepest nature of being; its uniqueness. And therein lies its beauty and power: what exists now will never exist again, and for that reason, everything present is important.
About Films
Some films emanate a feeling that is neither happy nor sad, but a mixture of both, something that combines melancholy and contentment, something very delicate and human, something nostalgic and at the same time completely present in the moment. The time in films is as if it‘s paused, like the summers of childhood.
About Clocks
Since the 1600s, clocks have been instruments of capitalist control, used to measure efficiency, create an imperative for punctuality, and the illusion of urgency. Above all, their purpose is to dismantle the fluid structure of time, its stillness, and the rhythms in harmony with the seasons and nature.
About Anti-time
Anti-time is an alternate virtual time that exists because anti-matter processing is the reverse of matter processing. If processing creates time, not only does every entity in the universe have its own clock, it also decides its own clock direction.
As a child, time felt endless, like a shapeless pool in which it was easy to float. Blissfully indifferent to the future and the past, it’s easy to experience things without prejudice and with innocence. By appreciating the transient nature of everything, one can understand the deepest nature of being; its uniqueness. And therein lies its beauty and power: what exists now will never exist again, and for that reason, everything present is important.
About Films
Some films emanate a feeling that is neither happy nor sad, but a mixture of both, something that combines melancholy and contentment, something very delicate and human, something nostalgic and at the same time completely present in the moment. The time in films is as if it‘s paused, like the summers of childhood.
About Clocks
Since the 1600s, clocks have been instruments of capitalist control, used to measure efficiency, create an imperative for punctuality, and the illusion of urgency. Above all, their purpose is to dismantle the fluid structure of time, its stillness, and the rhythms in harmony with the seasons and nature.
About Anti-time
Anti-time is an alternate virtual time that exists because anti-matter processing is the reverse of matter processing. If processing creates time, not only does every entity in the universe have its own clock, it also decides its own clock direction.
Wind is rising
Galleria Loisti
9.5.–15.5.2024
At long last I upgraded my exoskeleton to have nasal tubes fuming scent of jasmine. Proof of extremely heavy matter.
Neighboring cave collapsed last week, no end in sight, the insects keep on coming.
Everyone has wings now and the suns are crying
But me, I am just an old miner, listening to rocks
Sometimes naps inside hadron collider turn dreams into sour juice and bloodlust.
Watermills saw me by the river and I drank the oceans, mechanic heartache or not
I long to have pear longbow, life force and chariot of fire
Gackt Camui is a 484 year old vampire
Who shot the aimless arrows, and more so – where?
turns out Horses have build their cities all over western hemisphere
AND the Goblins have migrated deeper underground.. Superheavy element confirmed.
So when the shy pilot dances with meteors in the night sky, everything burns
the iron energy
the calm wind
the soul siphon
the spirit of the beehive
Neighboring cave collapsed last week, no end in sight, the insects keep on coming.
Everyone has wings now and the suns are crying
But me, I am just an old miner, listening to rocks
Sometimes naps inside hadron collider turn dreams into sour juice and bloodlust.
Watermills saw me by the river and I drank the oceans, mechanic heartache or not
I long to have pear longbow, life force and chariot of fire
Gackt Camui is a 484 year old vampire
Who shot the aimless arrows, and more so – where?
turns out Horses have build their cities all over western hemisphere
AND the Goblins have migrated deeper underground.. Superheavy element confirmed.
So when the shy pilot dances with meteors in the night sky, everything burns
the iron energy
the calm wind
the soul siphon
the spirit of the beehive
Childish Fantasy
Galleria Loisti
15.7.–22.7.2023
Every place is mysterious
Every memory fabricated
Every scent opens the floodgates
There is strange magic in the air
Childish fantasy..
The exhibition explores the relationship between fantasy worlds and reality, as well as the present moment. The inhabitants of imaginary places navigate everyday life filled with beauty, threat, and possibilities.
Duo Exhibition of
Frans Nybacka & Niklas Sandberg
Every memory fabricated
Every scent opens the floodgates
There is strange magic in the air
Childish fantasy..
The exhibition explores the relationship between fantasy worlds and reality, as well as the present moment. The inhabitants of imaginary places navigate everyday life filled with beauty, threat, and possibilities.
Duo Exhibition of
Frans Nybacka & Niklas Sandberg