Fresh Fossils

[Guitar riff slowly fades in]

We used to be goddamn hippies (!)
Roaming the roads with our thumbs
Feeding of sweet sweat and ten-der
coincidence
(...)

And when the sun left us
us fresh and moist
sand

to dig ourselves deep into
the earth

like fresh fossils
on the edge of the ocean (!)
(...) x2


A catamaran in snooze mode
on the sand is reminiscing its days thrifting

[side note for feeling:]
(one side of the edge purple and dark,
dry and wet oker beach
dried out leaves and woodsticks from the other side of the world)

(ROunded and faded pieces of glass
Stepping on these new shapes never hurt us
And tonight
nothing will)


We thank the boot as a roof
Imagernery bow
we sleep kiss underneath

and we keep ourselves quiet for the evening

x2


The dogs,
finally freed
form their leash

Here their independence
can be released *

Only they are aware
of our presence

They almost reveal
But the never betrayed us

x2



(here, on the beach,
the masters doesn’t worry about them
the boundaries are quite clear,
they know the ocean is not forgiving
the paramaters of vision are enlarged)

DM

Dm is a German drugstore, but for some, it can also fungate as a temporary remedy against this stingy micro-loneliness that can occur after dedicating some months in Frankfurt. A common late capitalist tradition, often advocated in “feminine oriented” magazines since very early childhood, is to cry, regret, and then, proceed to feed the need to beautify oneself temporally. This last step can be achieved by enhancing the colours of the epidermal surface of the body.

Amongst other solutions at hand such as soft-meditation playlists, a new morning routine, keeping a bullet journal, re-organising a purse, writing short to-do lists, make-up is the only way one can, on a daily basis, soften the direct encounters with other individuals. The emotional features of a face suffering homesickness can, when done well, be camouflaged to the level of being able to be read as “a face that glows from the geographical translocation”.
It will not only ephemerally cure the melancholy, but the slight reverse expectations and gratification one can get from interacting with the outside world is recommended by many. After having spent so much time for a perfect eyeliner wing, tears will be held back better aswell. And no one will notice the fever behind the matt powder layer on one´s cheeks.

The DM Behavior Codes
Almost like entering a stage, ones body localises itself amongst others in common and confined space, with its structures and behavior codes. The body has a role, The Customer. The script is very simple but its whole pattern is admirable. The social contracts within a store like this are not very much different than a supermarket, except that the content here is marketed toward the Home and the Body. Actually, something in between these two. The assortment of bodily products (smearable, penetrable, edible) is the biggest one.

To try out make-up in drugstores is another story. It is for sure another level of shopping. And in contrary to bigger cosmetic shops such as Sephora, DM has no assistants or employees in charge of advising.
”This freedom is great: I don´t want anyone to look down on my fingers when I try 17 colours of nailpolish on my thumb”.


”Fortunately, the numbing TL light of this store blindly stores my braincells safely in the back of my head. My gaze is suffocated towards gloss vs. matt.”, a customer says after asking what their thoughts are on the interior design of the store.
”Unfortunately, this does help delaying this malicious grey curtain that, out of nowhere, happen to shut down all my in-and a-ttention this morning, with a thin layer of sour apathy”, another customer told us.

Whenever there is an excuse, going to DM can be soothing and agonising at the same time. A feeling that one is looking for when everything is neutralised and eye vision becomes insensitive to even a phone screen.

If you are checking out at the cash register with a maximum of 2 items with dark purple lips and an ombre of pink shades on your eyelids, you won the game.

La Chambre Automatique in Düsseldorf

We spend 4 days in Düsseldorf with La Chambre Automatique who did its first presentation in German. The presentations took place everyday at 15:00h. This took place in the office of VDB Transit Co, our very own and young start-up company.

Website of La Chambre Automatique is here FB event can be found here Video on insta here VDB Transit Co. also has a website, here.

Ik weigerde!!! Ik wilde NIET
ooit terug gekomen zijn
plots thuis, in de badkamer ; ze is al 3 tanden kwijt,
ze moet van me horen achter de deur op een kier,
dat groot worden te snel gebeurd

Stepped out of the body God
gave me out of sympathy

nostrils and bellybutton tied
I’m born

They Live With Us — A Tribute to The House Insect

[lyrics]

[minor chord sweeps]

A bee lands on my window pane,
thirsty and drained
from the long distance relationship with her hive.
I wonder and ask her…

— “Are you still not retired?”

Because, for 74years, she’s been coming back and forth
-flower
-beehive
- queen
- worker
- this apartment
- workplace, house, boss, colleague, me - a harsh routine


Can I offer you a cup
of sugar liquid
in a water bottle cap?
She takes a sip and flies away
Doesn’t say thank you
because it’s a bee
and we don’t speak the same language

Standing On the Bridge #1

[pianissimo lullaby]

it’s tenderness
and listening through the soft sky
and the wind talking behind my back

I’m leaning on the
shoulder of this bridge

Your hair like hands and
my hands in yours

Oh!
Skyscrapers waiting in line to reach heaven

Your landscape,
mutated to my needs
You’re a land-scraper
crawling through my mud

A never ending process one must go through in the 21st Century.

[lyrics: by Lolitask7]

Afraid of the Digital Dark Age?
Or a World Wide Web War
and everything getting lost
of your external memoire

Afraid to loose your shit down
Afraid of Missing Out
Loosing your phone on the subway,
praying to your hard drive
?

First you’re bitchin’ to your laptop
taking her time to start up
she’s too slow and you slam the keys
forgiving and reaching you
to beg on your knees

regretting how you treated the machine
she blacks out from the daily abuse

depending on her endless stand by
she’s on sleep mode and never shut down
Piles of mails in the backyard
of your endless virtual graveyard
the back of your head leaning against
the ergonomic failures of chance

Digging deep in the saved tabs
reaching for systems & routines
to not get lost in the physical Streets

without fearing too much battery leaking
you’re biting the apple
slightly sogging through the
non modular and closed source
you forget to blame yourself
for the the companies’s forces


It’s not easy,
the multitude is trembling,
the floor — swept away…

You find yourself,
suddenly,
empty handed.

What a relief

but its moment of peace doesn’t stick around
Instead
a ravage of sharply edged sine waves
sawtooth style
peaking through your forehead
shattering
RIGHT in front of your dry eyes

A heavy diarrhea
manifests itself on your desk
and simultaneously
you are about to throw up

—— confused about what to wipe first
and where to put your device you took with you to the bathroom
you need all your 3 hands for this desktop task.

How did you end up here from just cleaning up your room?

You will know soon
when your potential children
will tell you to get the fuck out

You being an artist
will not for ever be
an excuse to postpone
treating your compulsive behaviour
and give shelter to
What you find on your way home

It’s time to admit you’re a scared arsehole
uptight from a rhizomatic constipation
taking forever to heal;
the cramped circular muscle of thoughts
collecting and holding on
every little thing getting in your hand
will have to, one day, give up all the burden

Some humans come here in the morning to walk their dogs
I walk me out of bed
If only, if only

you are running
as fast as you can
on the firm sand
the type that is in between wet and dry
because the sea covers it like a duvet
every 5,9 seconds and leaves it moist.

In comparison to to dry sand your feet don't sink into it, you're running so fast, so fast that you barely touch the ground, and when the wave tries to pull your achilles heel you jump and you feel fly



If only this was me

Fuck Me It's Tuesday

Capitalist'societies social contract started yesterday again, after a week. Tuesdays are, most of the time, quiet, mediocre — average, they call it Monday’s ugly sister, and poeple are so disappointed when it’s Tuesday, you know why, because it feels like a copy of the day before. So Tuesdays are inherently linked to Mondays, like succesors of a time consensus, and most of the poeple complaining about it feel as if time is passing by v e r y slowly, almost not, like they are stuck, with sticky feet, glued to Monday. The alarm going off and on.

Have you seen people with quotes on their shirt 'FUCK IT'S TUESDAY AGAIN'?

They pass by with expectations and impatience - Tuesdays again are totally in the shadow of Mondays like the moss growing on a tree.

There's a saying; "You don't hate Mondays, you hate capitalism"... just a name for your disgust; a ventilation for all of us about a frustrating time-construction. Thank you my lord. Is it a choice though? "yeah, of course you can avoid it, if ôu REALLY want to" you will hear a maybe non-boomer say? They might be teaching you a goddamn lesson, while waiting in line for a pack of rolling tobacco harvested by modern slaves! And you just can not believe your ears. This is the internet in reality. Right here, wainting in line to check out your dinner.

But 9 to 5 is a thing baby… Monday to Sunday... Chronic structures embedded in all of our lives, I would even dare to say entablged, woven into our biorythmics. Even if you're not fucking with it… Even if you buy American Spirit... Even if you never had airpods... Even if you rent a bike... And 9 to 5 is nothing compared to… 6 to 6. In countries where there is little social security and measurements for healthcare.

"You know in the end buddy. I´ll tell you something. Mondays and their 9 to 5 or better said 9 to 9 makes me able to buy unripe avocados in the Lidl — because I can't afford the organic ones yet. Will I even ever be able to afford them? Do I want to be able to afford them? Organic food is a hoax anyway."

What's your favorite day of the week?

Dolphinarium

One day after watching a documentary about a dolphinarium when I was 10 or 12, I imagined that someone watching a dolphin show actually never sees the dolphin — because his view and the dolphin are separated by glass, which in my head made it less legit and was not equal to seeing a dolphin without a barrier between the viewer and the subject. After starting wearing glasses for a certain time, I soon realised that I would forever witness life like this; always with a thin layer of material between life and my gaze; always behind 2 tiny glass wands.

Café Solo (Rundgang 2018)

  1. Thank you to everybody visiting and taking part of Café Solo. Special thanks to my beloved friends who helped me so much: Dido Woelders, Charlotte Symoens, Ines Bodlovic, Gustave Demoen. I love you.

  2. Café Solo was a temporary café — a social setting during Rundgang at Städelschule — serving one person at a time, and works with data currency which involves filling in a questionnaire on a device in order to pay for a fresh drink.

  3. Around 40 questionnaires were filled in. The data will be processed in the upcoming newspaper, JOURNAL INTEMPORAIRE n°3.

To be updated when the data gathered of Café Solo gets released, fill in your e-mail here: