Nomadic Graphomania

by Sharon Mertins


Videos I’m fond of


It’s the sound of a voice, the soft beat of a drum, an accidental touch of a stray key, a voice calling someone, or something that was heard, with the eyes, seen with sound Continue reading “SYNESTHESIA”


The waves are easy. We let them out of ourselves without thinking. Everything we feel, everything we say, everything we do, is a trigger. And it becomes a wave. And the waves move around rooms, gardens, airplanes, trains, dance floors. Sometimes they meet with static waves, before those become waves, and blend into them to make something more physically perceivable; a reaction. Continue reading “TRIGGERS & WAVES”


The raw shark texts with Tilda Swinton.


J.viewz plays ‘Teardrop’ with vegetables


An absolutely magnificent tribute to my childhood.


There are very small, seemingly LONG moments in life in which every piece of reason gets lost. Every word gets bent out of shape and the present becomes completely…warped.

Sentences suddenly twist, facial expressions get distorted, and everything that weaves that instant gets perverted.
It brings me to ask myself if EVERY reaction and response that is obstinately contrary to previous behaviour is automatically a perversion. And are these perverse moments RIGHTLY perverse in order to make us change the aperture of our brain to take a different picture? Continue reading “PERVERSIONS”





Let it pick me up and kiss me with its water-coloured thoughts.

Let me fill my lungs with its thickness, blow out blueish smoke and relish in blue thoughts.

Let it grab me by the toes to later let me go…to let me fly down, to dive into the waters of the deep deep depths, to blow out blue-toned bubbles and slide around inside of them until they pop!

Let me play with blue particles and become minuscule enough to take advantage of the viscosity of air. Allow me to grasp and climb through it and indulge in the microscopic nature of my existence.

Let there be blue waves that soothe me with their rhythm and carry me lovingly onto blue sand, to sink my feet in it and dance melodically in place as it embraces my swollen feet with coolness and wraps its grains around my skin.

Let me indulge in darkness with a blueish tone and embrace the whispers of sweet blue nonsense that finds its way into my ears.

For just a few seconds, let me drown in a peaceful version of myself – a blue one, that is not disturbed or influenced or inspired by any other color.

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