jacket 2

jacket 2

the impulse the reviewer has -- same as mine -- to "re-read" the image -- to regularize it. the text has been made by folding and then it must be read as folded. why?

also, the idea that things could be written to be folded -- as paper craft, things were written, then folded and that folding was a writing (mine and baum different but related, I think to DuPlessis' folds), but then there is the writing TO BE folded. can be either folded or not. can be folded this way or that.
Felís Stella -- IKEA My House: Part III
April 23 - May 21, 2011
Opening Reception Saturday, April 23 · 7:00pm - 10:00pm

L2kontemporary Gallery
990 N Hill St #205
Los Angeles, CA 90012


Press Release:

L2kontemporary is pleased to present Felís Stella’s second exhibition with the gallery, opening April 23, 2011 and closing May21. This exhibition debuted at Elements gallery in Perth, Australia in 2010 and is making its first public appearance in the United States.

Heimdal anyone?

IKEA My House Part III is a series of photographs serving as playful interpretations of IKEA's unique product naming convention. Consumers love the idea of owning something that has an exotic foreign name, such as Poäng, or Heimdal or Gutvik. It imbues each object with a seductive mystique. But what do these words really mean?

Felís Stella, who had to learn English from scratch when she immigrated to the US from the former Soviet Union, has since been interested in etymology, and in the way word origins affect our perception and interpretation of these words. In this series she married her love of language with her enduring obsession with the giant Swedish retailer.

Ingvar Kamprad, the founder of IKEA, is dyslexic. Instead of using alpha numeric codes for cataloging inventory -- a dyslexic’s nightmare -- he started titling his products with names of various geographic locations in Sweden and Norway, people's names, job occupations, action verbs, and more. Inadvertently, he created a unique retail language of his own.

Stella’s photographs are actually depicting IKEA products -- specifically, furnishings that have been integrated into her own home décor -- in their "native" etymological environments. This series is an excerpt from a visual “dictionary” of Kamprad’s language. A HEIMDAL side table is shown at a Heimdal train station in Heimdal, Norway; a POÄNG chaise rests atop Yaki Point peak at Grand Canyon (poäng means point of view in Swedish); a DOCENT bookcase is shown in a museum gallery, surrounded by a crowd during a docent tour; a couple is having sex atop a GUTVIK bunk bed (gutvik is pronounced goot fick, which means good fuck in German). Ingvar Kamprad himself appears in the print titled IKEA, which stands for Kamprad’s first and last name initials and the initials of the town and farm in which he grew up, Elmtaryd, Agunnaryd.

In IKEA My House: Part III these mundane objects, normally part of our everyday interior landscape, become displaced namesake portraits of unexpected locales, ideas and actions. It is the artist’s hope that these images will inspire viewers to question the obvious and the unknown, and to see IKEA from a different poäng.


so now we are back in it, or how are we back in it?

I mean -- now that one can say that -- I have been reading this about Cocteau -- to fall asleep -- but then I got a ittle curious, and thought, what did that number of that journal look like, and were there women in it (unfortunately, always a question in my mind), and what was their work like and could it be played -- received differently -- by me! the reader, ok -- here it is, I am jumping back and now -- what does it mean to be an artist now with this sort of access to information?, this sort of knowledge and pleasure and ability to choose one's imaginations... and for what purpose of course, and why
So this represents my diving back into last years NaPoWriMo project with a renewed something or other

because of you I'm distraught
lost in thought

for, you've given up your song

I wish you'd pick it up again

without you I'm gone
was the song wrong?

tensions, tensor
stretching canson

all manner of song I thought I'd given up too trop, dew drop

glamour long
I dot
daughter growing up
laughter, throwing up


when you summon
come on

I can sing
I must sing

if you don't ask, I can't answer
if you don't ask, I can't not stop
if you don't answer, I can't start

I'm stretched too thin
back to the songs you've given up

and songs I'd thought I'd forgotten,
I sing when I think of you

how can I refuse to sing

lady, here people say when a lady wants to love
she owes her lover
equal honor
since they're equal in love

they say ladies want to love
their loves equally --
do I want to love my lover
more than that one can discover
over hover


lady, it's embracing

argue askew, a lady should
be higher than the man whom she's made one heart of two

the lady ought to do / exactly for her lover
as he does for her
without regard for rank
look out!
between two hearts neither one should rule


it's nothing short of treason
if he says he's her equal and her beggar

short of treason, the reason
I give for liking you, eye to eye, is this ---------

if you love me more (than you did before?)
(than you knew I did?)
your words and acts would show it
by your mouth and by your hands, I'd know it
and if the clam, gam, can jump the tram...poline...

if you're fickle and untrue
can your freckles lie for you?

if you're tickled or when you're blue

hide it with your pretty face
be plus belle


when I think of your body and face
corps visage
star miracle body back
I used to kiss and touch -- I'm crazy
I'm lucky I'm not deranged

your body a miracle I stroked, touched
I remember -- I'm insane
(how we fit together)
am I crazy? I's do it all again
despite all this pain
let's arrange

ranging around your bed
(I'd cradle your sleeping head) -- better off dead
I'm lucky I'm not enraged


you take away what I love best
I'll never love you. My unhappiness
is all the rest
you have caused my unrest

How will you endure your ache for me
when nothing tells the grief I feel without you


I've never been without desire
since you loved me

there is never a time
I didn't want you often

I never regretted, no, it never happened
you never left angry; you were always feted on your return

you wanted me and so I had it --
that black magic, love --


My 2 cents on the budget crisis:

The Vatican is opposed to contraception; it softened in the 30s on natural methods of contraception, and in the 90s on sexual activity for pleasure -- even if it could not lead to conception. [A return to practices in the 13th century, say.] To put a finer bead on it, papal infallibility as a doctrine (unsupported by scripture) is called into question by the most questionable papal utterances, which have to do with sex, life, disease, and death.

Both church and state are bad at sex, life, disease, and death. If they would just stop trying, and focus on taxing the rich, cutting military spending, eating (inexpensive) vegetables and whole grains, and funding elaborate celebrations with music and poetry... stuff they're good at...


Chanteuse / Ricochet (!)