Outlines

So H.R. Giger passed away.

His works used to scare the hell outta me as a kid. I did watch Alien years before I should have. 'It', too. Huddled together under a blanket with my best friend, anxiously peeking through our fingers. His eleven year old brother supposed to babysit us.

Oh, the irony.

Giger's work never failed to fascinate me for the artically realistic details and their severe darkness. Inspiring in a pretty twisted way, encouraging creativity to take new paths. I've always had a passion for drawing, illustration, graphic design. The art of art in generel, perhaps. There must be tons of sketches on my parents attic.

'Kunst kommt von Können' they say. (Art comes from ability/skill)

AMEN.

As a kid my parents took me to Paris for a week. I fondly remember Montmartre, L'arc de Triomphe, Champs-Élysées et and Notre-Dame, which I immediately fell in love with after reading Victor Hugo's Hunchback. I wish I would have enjoyed the Louvre more. I was a only eleven back then, my inner compass needle pointed straight toward Euro Disneyland. These days I'd probably stay as long as possible at the Louvre, gaping in astonishment at the beauty and expressive power of the displayed paintings. When artists equaled real craftsmen. Requiering talent, a perfect eye for colors, proportion and space. Creating a unique masterpiece. Monet, Rubens, Dürer... to admire them not only for their paintings as an overall work of art, but also for their incredible talent and passionate output. I'd rather spend all day looking at classic 'old hat' art than desperately trying to decipher the artists intention eveyone is looking for in most abstract modern art. If there is any at all. I sometimes doubt it.

Maybe because it's easier to relate to. Beuys may have been a genius. Me the cynic. Applying a band aid on a bathtub is anything to me. But not art. Rather theatrical self-enactment. I prefer the past. Living history all around you, everywhere. It paved the way for our contemporary society, shaped who and what we are. Our social interactions, moral decisions, whether we are patriotic or not. How can anyone not be interested in history? May it be historical architecture, culture, literature or art, it doesn't matter. I don't get it. Never will. Even studying history was an option at some point. Before realizing becoming a teacher did not exactly fit my career or life plan.

English, History and Art, my favorite classes throughout highschool. I loved my art teacher Ms Helke, the most adorable teacher one could have, may she rest in peace. Pint-sized, always wearing too much blue eyeshadow and a broad grin on her face, encouraging even the most talent-free student to keep on working on their pieces, honouring rather the effort than the actual outcome. She once made us cite a famous piece of art, altering just a single aspect of the painting, yet changing it's entire meaning.

I still got mine.

A pencil/crayon version of the Mona Lisa. Face and hand replaced by the Episode 1 version of C3PO, all cables and lightbulbs. A sarcastic comment on technology and self-perception, seen through the blue eyes of a seventeen year old highschool girl.

Not nearly as dark, apocalyptic and disturbing as Giger's work.

But in the end, inspiration is all you need.