‘Whisper of a Poet’


Sonja Hindkjaer. Artist

www.hindkjaer.com     artist@hindkjaer.com


My art project has grown from a seed created during the GA2004 I attended two years ago.

Several poems were written immediately under and after the stay in Milan.

A link has generated into the present, where I have made a picture in mixed media with the title “Whisper of a Poet”.

Out of this connection I have designed a glass box where this picture will be transferred with lightproof colours to a transparency placed inside the lid. In the box I will place 12 handwritten poems with the title “Transcendental Moments” from Dec 2004.

There will be made only 12 such glass boxes.

At this conference I will bring one glass box and read the twelve poems and by this make the bridge between the past, the present, and the future.


‘Transcendental Moments’


Magic lantern


The flesh is mortal, but my dreams live forever.

Sorrow and love is a state of mind,

a sickness that can be overcome,

still they might leave scars to remember.


Long sleeves,

a cover up for the wounds of life,

but you crawl under the silk

to reveal what was not to be shown.


In your presence

I turn into a magic lantern

with shimmering lights,

we become beings of velvet radiation.


My darling, take me in a waltz,

hold my body tight,

let the touch of skin be my dress,

and your fingers my destiny.


Longing will become devastating,

sorrow a mountain troublesome to climb

hard to descend.

Happiness will be stronger than ever.

A transcendental moment


There has been a flood of transcendental emotions.

Sensations of the body

like vast experiences of life

beyond the sky,

beyond the ground.

They go to you my heart, as a train of organic cells.

Adventures to be discovered, awaits for us in the blue light.


The touch of hands conceives ideas not yet known to the public.

As we caress them, they dissolve into ions of fragmentary lights.

Lights we shall gather to create the tales

in immense globes from other spaces,

from other times not yet lived.


My darling take my hand and be lost forever.

The horizons disappears and we know of no limits,

the journey is stronger than life itself,

there is no end, no goal,

only the lights transforming with us


We dance on the waves of sound from non-existing themes,

your body in mine, mine in yours

The fever becomes the normal state of mind

burning down the replica of earthy life.

It is a transcendental moment.
















Pages from my sketchbook 14th and 22nd of December 2004