For the first time in a while we ended up having a “normal” dinner with mom. She was with her boyfriend and my brother brought his girlfriend. (I brought a retarded smile) We ended up discussing curtains, salaries and euthanasia. We left with a big bag of plums and apples, plucked from very ripe trees.
We’re heading to Copenhagen with Skup Palet. We’re still not decided on the details of our presence, although our involvement is clear – we’re going to represent ourselves, and with that an alternative mode of art organisation; Most of the other people there are either going to be presenting their galleries and publications, or they have a common goal.
There’s nine of us in the org. Our only common denominator is also the lowest one – facilitate the creation of whatever it is that its individual members are interested in. I think someone wants to invite speakers, someone else print a book. Most of us want to make money on doing art, not an easy proposition under the best of circumstances.
With the thoughts about career that have popped into my mind as of late, there is also the question of place. I’ve entertained the idea that now might be the time for me to move somewhere where I’d be alone, spend some time reading the books that are mostly gathering dust and maybe use the laptop for stuff other than occasional bloggery and Internet pop culture. Y’know, learn things or something. It’s all very hazy.
Chalk this ambition up to whatever category of delusions are common for frustrated people. None of my friends that I’ve asked about this have been supportive. Three of them have independent of each other said that I’d literally go insane should I go into seclusion. And not just in a “oh hey it’s kinda boring here in the forest” insane but rather “let’s smear faeces on the walls and pray to the moon godess.” I take it they mean I am a city person.
Petter is talking about buying a boat and such talk sparks ideas of getting a houseboat or sailing around the world. (By the way, once you’ve gone around the world, where else is there to go? What modality of existence or nature haven’t you experienced?) But beyond nurturing escapist fantasies too grandiose to fulfil, what is a manboy to do?
I was looking at bikes with Jonas the other day, and it struck me that I’d like to have more money. Hey, there you go, an ambition! I hardly recognised it it’s been so long! So part of this ambition would be to find a niche where I’m happy enough and make enough money and progress to support myself.
So photography maybe? My brother and I are once again talking about the possibility of going freelance as a reporting team, but the exact details of financing the project are still in need of some ironing. As far as I know it would entail us living out of a car. Well, whatever. Let’s start with updating the homepage, then we take Berlin.