sleeping in chapters… 2 hours… 1… a half… the constant flush of dreams … forces to wake… forces to move… back to rest… waiting the rise… light of dawn…. brings back the night… faces.
Landscapes move… objects uptake their clearness and show their diaphragmatic being… the sight is wider than the comprehensiveness... Relieving loses ground to occupation… the deep breath to a short winded… during day manhunt…
stringent mind, extraction & extradition of intellect - absorption of reality …. reduction on black… in back limn of basic color… seen with opened eyes, sensed with dream full closed papreba… senses … senses… senses… as much more intense a s sense can bear to be a sense…
poland…. a home a people a foreign stranger…. hearts as big as growler, as old as cicles ruptured by enervation of mind…. progressed by failure intellectuality….disobedience in knowledge….blowed out head…. heart close to determination….. mind overload….
silence,,, in the moment of truth,
clearness
the mess of insight and getting someones numbers turns so much badly down to floor no matter of age and experience… only less struggling… is ever a only struggle there isn’t a tiredness of struggle….
so much tired…. while the eyes and brain of the masses turn down sight and close, while laughs try to catch fresh air and rob it from your soul…. is taken a seat… the head by self and taken away self…. cause self is the only hold that exist…. never hold by others and if hold forced to hold back stronger…
the fucking art of of give and get back which cause so much scare cuz so much bare…. the naked soul….. the most frightening most scandalous the so ever praised but showed so badly fucked down gift … kept up so highly… loses… never loses taking up the shit of all…
it must be spit somewhere not to suffocate in this merda de la vita …
in back colored, inked, spray paint pencil style
to put off all the dresses of this lies, life lies and half truth in the hope to give bare and naked truth a sight….
expressive, compulsive, confused on search ever
but better ever search
than one time the illusion of consciences having understood all…
this would mean dead…. all the rest is nothing more than smooth moving on the waves of lives carried by a burning heart and a ever working soul.

Johanna Marie Fugger was born 26.5.1987 in Neu- Ulm Germany,
her mother a polish visual- and cabaret- artist, father pianist, producer, drummer...
her childhood and early youth she spent between band touring, artworks, hippie lifestyle in south Germany and a some month lasting sojourn in Ghana...at age of 16 she left her parents house to live on herself, after finishing school she studied graphic design at the academy of visual communication in Ulm, first exhibitions in Warsaw. Since she left home she finances her life alone, works not only as a waitress but also as a graphic designer which brought her jobs in Athens, Odessa and Warsaw. Recently she takes up her studies in Vienna to become a doctor for applied arts. Johanna’s artworks are marked by very strong expressiveness done not only on paper but also with spray paint on walls. Mostly she creates characters often combined with text. Her characters exclusively put over their strong ruptured inner life to surface. Fugger shows the person as a human being that is singed by life and does not hide the inner redemption behind a mask but verbalizes them clear and unsettling. Her inspiration and influenced she ever took and ever takes from graffiti, rock & roll and the unbreakable will to live & laugh no matter what happens. All this is reflected in her artworks the reason what makes them true unswerving and pure. Nearby her visual artworks she expresses in letters writing also short columns and articles for german youth magazines.