Wednesday, December 7, 2011

@ Pulse Art Fair Miami # 2

How long
Does a work last?
So long as necessary for it to become ready
As long as it is being made
It shall not fall apart
Inviting to the effort
Compensating for participation
It's essence is durable
As long as it
Invites and compensates

Bertolt Brecht - on the making of lasting works

Natascha Stellmach's Project @ Pulse Art Fair

"Fuck Art for letting this happen"

my tattoo/quote:

"questions that raise questions to which all good art has no answers"

"Fuck Art for Letting this Shit Happen"

@ Nada Art Fair with Bad at Sports

@ Pulse Art Fair Miami # 1

"Fuck Art for Letting this Shit Happen"
"Fuck Art for Letting this Shit Happen"

Monday, November 28, 2011

after Woody Allen


from the opening sequence of Woody Allen's Manhattan

Chapter One: ‘He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion’ – er, no, make that: he – ‘He romanticized it all out of proportion.’ – Yes. – ‘To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin.’ – Er, tsch, no, missed out something.

Chapter One: He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street-smart guys who seemed to know all the angles.’ – No, no, corny, too corny for a man of my taste. Can we … can we try and make it more profound?

Chapter One: He adored New York City. To him, it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. The same lack of individual integrity that caused so many people to take the easy way out was rapidly turning the town of his dreams into …’ – no, that’s a little bit too preachy. I mean, you know, let’s face it, I want to sell some books here.

Chapter One: He adored New York City, although to him it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. How hard it was to exist in a society desensitized by drugs, loud music, television, crime, garbage’ – Too angry. I don’t want to be angry.

Chapter One: He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat.’ – I love this. – ‘New York was his town, and it always would be…

Wednesday, November 23, 2011


First look from morning's window
The rediscovered book
Fascinated faces
Snow, the change of the seasons
The newspaper
The dog
Showering, swimming
Old music
Comfortable shoes
New music
Writing, planting
Being friendly

Bertolt Brecht, Of Poor BB

Monday, November 14, 2011

Asphalt City

“In the asphalt city I’m at home. From the very start
Provided with every last sacrament:
With newspapers. And tobacco. And brandy
To the end mistrustful, lazy and content.”

Bertolt Brecht, Of Poor BB