Artist Residency by Jarad Bruinstroop
At the künstlerhaus,
I watch the artists
be artists. Everyone is famous
in Berlin. It used to be
a hospital, named for the town
where Lazarus did what he did.
At a party,
a vampire reads my palm.
My life line splits in zwei.
I don’t show anyone
my work. No one knows me.
In a club,
near a leftover chunk of the Wall
a motorcycle man tells me he knows
the DJ. Along the corridor
to the dark room, portraits of soldiers
and football players loom like spirits.
Any boy can be a poster boy
if you nail him to a post.
I wish I could paint
the same painting over and over
until it’s sublime. But that’s not
who you want me to be.
That’s not who I am.
Image: Scott REDFORD Spiritual Australia 2002 colour screenprint QUT ART Collection. Donated through the Australian Government's Cultural Gifts Program by Lyell Bary, 2012.