6 _ Head out of the eye _

I know the resi­den­cy is over for me and that I should have posted some­thing for you guys some time ago but you should know that I was caught up in a deli­cious and oh so frigh­tening storm. A hur­ri­ca­ne (did you know that hori­zon­tal hur­ri­ca­nes are pos­si­ble ? well you can even count that one in), a tor­na­do, a typho­on, a thun­der­storm, a thun­der­les­se­storm, a sand storm, a rain storm, a storm­less storm, a… despi­te appearan­ces I’m actual­ly not a wea­ther spe­cia­list so I have no clue what other storms might exist but man ! What a shit storm it was ! (plea­se do note that during my stay, my favo­ri­te words were : « man » and « shit ». I do not know why, i do not know how but I do know that I used them for near­ly ever­ything ; to such an extent that even the four wond­rous other resi­dents a.k.a Karin, Eva, Ida and Salo­me, noti­ced I pos­ses­sed a strong incli­na­ti­on for the­se two ver­sa­ti­le words.

Man, what a true shit storm it was (here they are again!) ! Out­side, you (euro­pean resi­dents or all that had a real­ly shit­ty a.k.a rai­ny mon­th of May) must have all noti­ced it. Hail, thun­der and buckets of water just pour­red on our heads on a dai­ly basis. The sun was non-exi­stent and the clouds ever too pre­sent. It’s inte­re­sting, don’t you find, that once you’re away from home you deve­lop a stron­ger sen­si­bi­li­ty to the wea­ther. I mean, isn’t it sim­ply fasci­na­ting to see that I’m lit­te­ra­ly begi­ning my first and only blog post about my stay at the resi­den­cy with the wea­ther fore­cast and a soon to be hap­pe­ning real­ly shit­ty ana­lo­gy with my men­tal sta­te. Becau­se, oh man, my head was all up in the clouds (it was going to be shit­ty, I war­ned you a cou­p­le of lines abo­ve, and it’s not over yet ! Becau­se shit always has it com­ing), I mean real­ly lost up the­re and twi­sted and tur­ned by the winds and the atmo­s­phe­ric pres­su­res. My brain just beca­me sky, (w.o.w and I thought I could not do worst), but not any sky ! it beca­me (but of cour­se) the sky loo­m­ing over our heads.

I was all over the place with exci­te­ment, bur­ning of impa­ti­ence, of ide­as, my men­tal health was not healt­hy any­mo­re it was…. Ok, i’m exa­ge­ra­ting a bit and this is get­ting a bit out of con­trol. But the fee­ling remains, that I was caught up in a mas­si­ve swirl of joy and crea­ti­on. I’m bare­ly com­ing down now, as I strugg­le to wri­te this post.

As you know, Karin and I were « Chez Moni­que », what an ama­zing space ! First off I could take ever­ything over, sit out­side in the rain and smo­ke my ciga­ret­tes, greet the cir­con­spect vil­la­gers every morning, listen to the local radio (with Eva who could ‑unfor­tu­n­a­te­ly hear ever­ything from her room) bla­ring ads and music from ano­t­her dimen­si­on, I had access to the famous­ly cal­led « fun­dus », a room fil­led with objects and mate­ri­al the resi­den­cy put at our dis­po­sal and in which I relished every morning : tubes, paper, tiles, tex­ti­le, lamps, books, spray cans, uniden­ti­fied wood­den and meta­lic objects… I found rolls and scrolls to print and pimp ! Man ! If I could have, I think I would have emp­tied the who­le fundus !

You must know that I love second hand objects, flea mar­kets and junk yards ; I obsess over the for­got­ten, aban­don­ned and dis­ar­ray for the­re is no limit to their reimagination.

Bro­ken glass beco­mes stai­ned glass, lea­ther bags are colou­red and cut up into giraf­fes, han­gers trans­form into lights, books turn into stop moti­on ani­ma­ti­ons, tiles are inve­sted with moods, bot­t­les host octo­pu­ses. I stri­ve to lea­ve not­hing I find inert. « Chez Moni­que » muta­ted into a lab, whe­re space and time were con­stant­ly faced and challenged.

The resi­den­cy plun­ged me into a men­tal tem­pest which I tried to tame with disci­pli­ne and rou­ti­ne : every morning I wro­te down my dreams, pim­ped at least one fun­dus crea­tu­re, car­ved one pie­ce of wood, to then print in the after­noon and write/doodle down a dai­ly log per evening. I seldomn left the hou­se for it came to be, for me, a sort of « Howl’s Moving Cast­le », whe­re each phy­si­cal and/or ima­gi­na­ry door led to pro­mi­sed lands of creation.

Finis­hed off my stay by tur­ning « Chez Moni­que » insi­de out, and taking over the street, (on an oh so luck­i­ly sun­ny day) it was libe­ra­ting ! If only my work had wings I would have set it free ! Ins­tead, I put it all back whe­re I found it, and I hope some of the next resi­dents will enjoy super­im­po­sing mea­ning and ide­as upon it, pushing this inta­glio ever so further.

Meteo­ro­lo­gi­cal­ly unsta­ble love and shit to all.

6.

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