miscellaneous - Allan Nicolaisen

Unreported Missing, 2024.

Pizza, 2022.

Junk Talk, 2014

Temple Sticks, 2022
Matchbox, glue
By Phillip Drago Jørgensen and me

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 1/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 2/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 3/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 4/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 5/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 6/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 7/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 8/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 9/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 10/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 11/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 12/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 13/14

Ship in a Bottle on a Ship, 2017
Exhibition view 14/14

Untitled, 2006
Dirt, glue, rubber boot

Kashyyyk Autumn (video still), 2006
Collaboration with Brian Ravnholt Jepsen

Kashyyyk Autumn (installation view), 2007
Collaboration with Brian Ravnholt Jepsen

Kashyyyk Autumn (video still), 2006
Collaboration with Brian Ravnholt Jepsen

Kashyyyk Autumn (Hair Face 1), 2006
Collaboration with Brian Ravnholt Jepsen

One of Those Mornings

It was one of those mornings I woke up late
Ashtray for breakfast in lack of a plate
Frozen heart in the microwave
Nuking my blood just to get through the day
Out on the sidewalk I pulled out my hair
Or was it that nest with vultures I wear?
Under trash bags and cats I found Flo’s head
We’re cutting-edge architects who build like that
Got a white picket fence around a bottomless pit
Like a blueprint to build up an appetite
A stray mule dragged me to a trough of water
Drank it all and left me in the gutter
Then nothing happened for a while
The day was a tunnel to the end of time
The nicest guy came by and said bye
A fly got stuck in a hole in the sky
My shoes caught on fire so I gave ’em away
A blind lady used ’em to self-immolate
Our cellphones died but we had nothing to write
A ghost wrote a note to no one in his mind
A flooded gutter covered the clutter
James almost drowned in a bucket of water
It rained so hard that our thirst got quenched
The majority of raindrops went in our lungs
Flo was sleeping so we filled her with caffeine
And told her to stay in the nightmare we were having
The only food available was a messed up layer cake
And we could only find a pitchfork to eat it with
The street lights went out when our eyes had been blinded
We all saw white and got the Christmas spirit
The moon was gone and the stars were falling
I lost my balance and swung someone’s cane
There were wounded seagulls and skulls and vomit
Coming from the belly of a baleful whale
Heaven and Earth could’ve drowned in the water
Electric eels were wearing my shirt
A skeleton was exhumed and flushed down the toilet
He got what he deserved a zombie assured
Perpetually perplexed we left a store with rakes
And gloves for James who had just caught a cold
Leftovers were seen through plastic wrap in eyeglass frames
A hero saw red and was gored by a bull
James knew voodoo but needed pins and a doll
Ronald McDonald and a used toothpick would have to do
We tried for hours to drive it through him at the drive thru
The toothpick broke and we had no glue
Sharks killed the shards of the dying embers
Blisters and cuticles were dying to dismember us
James had gangrene and no more hands in his gloves
So we gave him a hand with feeding the ducks
The ugliest one flew up on my shoulder
And told me the ugly story I’ve told you

Wake Up

The bucket list you wrote with an alphabet play mat
Didn’t fit in your duffel bag
Now you walk through a fire to get rid of the deadweight
From the cross you bear to a feather in your cap

Wake up
This dream has gone on long enough
And if my life is a nightmare, just bring it on

The joyride you took on a toy model railroad
Is going around in circles now
You sat in your RV like a cadaver on the prairie
With your license plate spelling 5 0bait

Wake up
This dream has gone on long enough
And if my life is a nightmare, just bring it on

Yawn

Hold up your hands like binoculars
Something’s coming through disjointed tubes
Departing from its destination
With a thousand announcements at the same time
All I could decipher was “the race must go on”
A rapid transit through a habitrail of vacuum cleaners
Modified to enhance the power performance
We’ll get off when they empty the canisters
Carpooling like venous reflux
The tossed intake heads shake at us scornfully
Thinking “good luck breathing through the suction nozzle”
The pipes now swell like varicose veins
I left myself at the faregate
Blowing kisses at a skeleton left in the trash
Lines of dust mites collapse like dominoes
Rambling people on a transient platform
Crammed together like sardines under a burning umbrella
As I press through the crowd with an emergency hammer
And a random door slams open like a yawn
What’s left is a complete collection of dust
Brakes shriek like music to my ears
In this goldless dust rush I’m just a guest
On Jacob’s ladder to a magpie’s nest