Monthly Archives: July 2017

A Serious conversation between father and daughter :) Conversa séria entre pai e filha.

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Being Donald J Trump !!!!

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MANIFESTO # 3 – 2017

MANIFESTO # 3 – 2017

LOW # 4

Just as in times past, I find myself in a low low low. I mean, low. Inexplicable LOW. Yes, it’s beyond depression.

It’s the FULL COMPREHENSION of life. The entire thing: in fact, it’s LIGHT. “The light”.

It’s the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

What am I saying?

I like walking amidst ruins. I mean, Venice. I mean, Jerusalem or Petra. I love dusty old Arab or semi-Arab lands or partially destroyed scenarios. Always liked paintings like (as, for instance) Max Ernst’s “Europe After the Rain” and dilapidated, rusty, dying, skeletons of ships, buildings, cadavers of cities. Anything and everything that would give me an indication that “we’ve been here before”.



We’re expandable, elastic, far too adaptable: perishable, and that’s terrible. “What else is new?” you might say. True. What else is new. But, sometimes, when you’re both Hamm and Nagg, this realization happens to defy the very purpose of living. Yes, not great philosophy, I know. More like Woody Allen’s dilemma, I know.

But I like being exposed to ruins. The Old Greek Theater in Taormina where we performed M.O.R.T.E. (very appropriate) in 1990. And where my then wife – Silvia Pasello – had a miscarriage.

I love this modern age I live in because…..because? Well because ‘things’ are so badly built that they show signs of the fragility of extinction from the outset and their ephemeral state exist as a precondition that “life ain’t going be around much longer”.

Things aren’t going be around much longer.

This is the philosophy of the COLD WAR.

My era: the COLD WAR.

I was fortunate enough not to have witnessed a WORLD WAR.

But I grew up hearing HORROR stories about the HOLOCAUST since I lost a great part of my family in concentration camps. “They’ll come for you tomorrow. They’ll come through the garden, point the finger UP your nose and will turn AGAINST YOU

I heard that all my life. For the remainder of my life what I’ve witnessed is all COLD WAR stuff and stupid competitiveness from either the right or the left about WHO DETAINS THE TRUTH.

I’m so goddamn tired of all this !



So many atrocities!

I sit here on this July 21st, 2017 more fearful than ever, more depressed than ever, knowing that I have achieved a “place” in history. What place? Don’t know. It may be small. It may be low.

I’m sure it will never compare to, say, a rock band. My work will never reach the outer bounds of, say, my mentor Samuel Beckett or James  Joyce. I know that. But then, what do I know?

And yet, just as in times past, I find myself in a low low low. I mean, low. Inexplicable LOW. Yes, it’s beyond depression.

It’s the FULL COMPREHENSION of life. The entire thing: in fact, it’s LIGHT. “The light”.

It’s time to GO. Clearly, it’s time to GO ! The daily chores are simply TOO MUCH to take. The daily routine is a horrible thing. A simple headache becomes unbearable. One observes one’s skin age and droop. One ‘anima’ lose to the impact of the world. And the ‘daily news’ ? they become a daily BLOW to what’s left of one’s reasoning.

Yes, one’s reasoning. The little that’s left.


Gerald Thomas




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Fabiana Gugli in an extraordinary take from my play (2005) “A Circus of Kidneys and Livers” (written for Marco Nanini)

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July 20, 2017 · 5:16 am

Dignity at its best: Obama wishes John McCain a speedy recovery.

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July 20, 2017 · 5:01 am

I’m selling all (ALL) of my paintings, drawings, illustrations: Estou vendendo TODAS as minhas pinturas, desenhos, ilustrações.

Mixed media on paper (NYC – 1978)

Coffee on paper (London 2003)

coffee cup over shadow of itself (mixed media on paper) (NYC 1978)

For those interested, please write to me:

Gerald Thomas

PS: The above painting measures ; 2 meters in width – 1.5 meters in hught

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From the General to private: I’m both. Thus, exhausted! Thoroughly exhausted!

Painting by Philip Guston

Portugues and English:

As vezes me percebo exausto. Muito exausto (a ponto de não conseguir dar mais um único passo). E por que ? Porque sou
o general e – também aquele soldado raso (tudo ao mesmo tempo). Não há descanso. Jamais. Enquanto penso na estratégia, sou também aquele que tem que subir de binóculos naquele morrinho pra ver se tem algum inimigo vindo pra avisar pro General, que esta lá embaixo tentando descansar. Ufff! é exaustivo.

Sometimes, most of the time (actually) I’m just beyond exhaustion. I mean….just amazingly exhausted (to the point where I find it almost impossible to go another half a mile or a single step, sometimes). And why? There is no such thing as “resting” for me. No such thing. There’s no relaxing. Never, ever. I’m the general and the private, all at once, all in one, all combined, a single body taking the blow. And, while the general – who spent the day thinking up strategies etc – tries to rest up a little, whether via a quick nap, whether a quick dozing off or… I’m also the GI who goes up the hill with a pair of binoculars to watch out. “WATCH OUT” to see if the enemy is coming. And if that’s the case, ALERT THE GENERAL attempting to rest down below. Yes, what a life. Stiff neck, tense torso, tense all around. Now, in Venice, Italy. Exhausted.

Gerald Thomas

July 10, 2017

Venice, Italy

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