Video – Page 6 – Monocultured

In vino veritas

ok, it’s getting late, and i’m tired and supposed to get up early to be moral and technical support for anna who has her examination tomorrow. yay for her.

the opening was spectacular. someone counted the number of people showing up, and 666 people turned up.

just the day before we’d been busy building the blessed thing, and come saturday i was walking around with one camera in each hand, trying to get something to drink before the art-peasants would swill it all up. i wasn’t fast enough, and the bastards drank everything and ate all the sausages-on-a-stick (not that i’d have any use of them, but still).

the stress didn’t go away all together, and because the show brought so many people together that otherwise might have stayed clear of each other, well, there were issues that probably will mess up the human relations here.

the first image is the 1000 yard stare of andreas on friday – digesting the horror (the horror) of the shitload of work that we still had. the rest of the images are from the opening and the ensuing party. scroll down for video.

as aside, i’m utterly freaked out by my bank statement, which at the moment reads “fuck you, you destitute beggar.” i got a letter from the student loan ~~evil henchmen~~ people (using the term loosely and generously) saying “yes we know you only have two months left, but we thought we’d help you loose some weight by not approving an extension on your loan. have an awesome life!”

so i’m 28, soon 29, and will borrow money from mom. i like the idea of family helping each other out and all that, but i’ve never lived much by it and can’t help but to shake the feeling of being an utter looser. plus this whole thing is making me feel like a mooch. if you have money, it’s not troubling to have someone else pick up the bill at a bar or for a cab, but if you’re broke it’s something you’re acutely aware of – it’s not a good feeling. then again, a recurring nightmare i have is that i’ll end up in a gutter somewhere. (a pre-emptive self pity, and a perfect excuse for not doing anything to avoid it)

speaking of nightmares, i had two dreams the past month that have stuck:
1 – somehow, there was a pool of young people that had to do service as sex workers for widows and older people. for some reason i was involved and set up a meeting with two older ladies for a rand-y-woo
2 – i won the world championship in sucking dick. literally. i don’t recall any actual sucking taking place in the dream, but i did recive a diploma.

speaking of which, looki what warren ellis found: [click image]

art hall prep 3

it’s over. sort of. the exhibition opened yesterday, with a (possibly) record crowd of 666 people (seriously) attending. it was great. kellogs frosties great.

here’s a vid from fridays building of the show. dorota at the art hall was kind enough to stay an extra hour, and we were out at eight in the evening. to recap: it took six people five days of 11 hours labour just to build the show. 6x11x5=330 hours of hard work.

here’s the vid from fridays building. i’ll edit the material from yesterdays show and party shortly.

stuff that i’ve been doing during the four days that i’ve helped out:
* nailing wooden trimming to flimsy wood composite material
* using a big saw
* drilling holes
* fastening screws
* mounting big pictures on walls
* covering stuff in wood-patterned vinyl
* laser level measuring thingy is cool
* carrying stuff
and a whole bunch of other small stuff i don’t even recall but i’m sure seemed important at the time.

art hall bonanza, pt 2

up at seven. at home at eight. i’m so fucking tired. and my “friends” are mocking me, offering such helpful remedies as:

1) a quiet jerk off in the bath
2) pre-chewed food that they can feed me with, like a small bird.

they were just teasing of course, in that friendly yes, we are laughing at you but we like you kinda way. heartwarming, really.

because of lack of sleep, food and health, i was silently cursing everyone in the hall until someone brought food and made coffee. i wished harm upon them in an embarrasing amount. a dull inner voice would say things like –if you move the hammer one more time i hope you die.

good thing i’m such a calm and non-violent person. (that way, when i finally snap, they can all say “he was always the calm and non-violent person, we don’t get it”)

because i’m a cretin i stayed up last night watching death of a president, which was a well done mockumentary of the coming assasination of george bush. well done, but not all that interesting in itself.
mockumentaries are interesting as a genre though; it’s basically invented news after the fact – so i had a fun time trying to piece together who would make a documentary like this in case bush got shot through the head with a frozen turd (as the case might be).
the esthetics were too somber for anything american that i’ve seen, but we only get the utter shit american documentaries over here, so i’m no judge.

bleh, i’m ranting. i’m tired and ranting. i’ll stop now.

lockpicking

albin, annas oldest son, has some sort of “work-practice” week at school. this has resulted in me having him along for a day in my regular artistic practice. seeing as my “regular artistic practice” isn’t very communicative at all, and that i’m mostly straring into a screen, drinking coffee or smoking, i decided to show him the principles of lock picking.

he picked it up quite quickly [har har]. in fact, he now routinely picks a padlock that i’ve managed to pick only once. he did it in litteraly ten seconds after a couple of attempts.

good for him. really. i’m not being bitter. at all.

to know in a biblical sense, pt. 2 & flossing

hannas exhibition was well received, and it was fun watching some children trace the lines on the wall, asking their parents what it was all about. the parents said that it was a map of who had kissed whom. if those children only knew.

before coming to the show, people were quite upset about the whole thing – a sense of privacy and betrayal tainting phonecalls, emails and sms-s that was telling that the idea struck a chord with the memories of people you’ve woken up next to and rather not advertise as knowing you intimately. once there though, most people found it interesting and rather harmless.

there’s another exhibition coming up in a few days, and washing the walls of the ink is a slight pain in the ass. not that i’m doing that, mind you; i’m fervently trying to get my shit together and render the video from my mfa presentation. i’ve been looking into building a render farm for the home, and that would kick ass, but as usual i’m more interested in that than i am of actually using it, so there you go.

oh, and in case anyone in my audience has the same misconception of flossing as i had, let me set things straight: flossing is something that you should do not only when your teeth hurt and there’s blood involved, but might be a good idea to add to that daily routine that people are talking about. goddamit i ended up butchering my own mouth.

picking, uni, angry brigade

the presentation last monday came over well, and the examination was okeydokey. as long as i finish the semester here, i’m now officially a master person. i’ll do new business cards: Master Pozar. wicked kewl.

i’ll put the video of the presentation up once i’ve fixed it a bit – the images from the projector are all washed out.

meanwhile, i present to you this interesting documentary on the angry brigade; an anarchist group active in britain in the seventies. it’s an hour long, but worth your time.

propaganda and amnesia

i got so staggeringly drunk this past saturday that i might have had my first memory loss. last thing i recall (more or less) after getting out of the cab at 0300 is hanna breaking a plate, and that’s it.

according to sources slightly more reliable than i, we were actually up for half an hours, during which i not only was fondling petters abs and encouriging others to do the same, but also promised to make breakfast. in fact, i had promised to “get up, go to the store, and cook breakfast before any of you wake up”. i must have been the drunkest because it’s a ridiculous thing for me to promise.

i was held to my promise though, and six hours later they tear my door down, someone takes my cellphone for some reason, and then yell feed us! feeeeeeed us! like so many gollum zombies until i mooch to the store to buy baked beans. i’m drunk all day and only get the hangover in the evening. then blissful sleep. sunday more or less down the drain, when i should have been doing, i don’t know, something soberlish.

emma came by and kept my miserable self company. and i now have a bike that goes “schuech schuech” on every rotation. yay for bikes!

i don’t know if it’s related, but i stumbled upon edward bernays book “propaganda” while searching for people to interview regarding the lockpicking presentation that’s due in a weeks time. i’m not going to read it right now, but i did watch a short clip about his successful attempt to get more women smoking in the 20s:

the book is available here: www.historyisaweapon.com, and it’s prolly a good read. if nothing else it’s a classic in pr and advertising.

oh, i think that what connects the two above stories might be a flashback to the party – a sea of amused faces when i with much bravado describe the priciple of how i’m going to take over gothenburg. it’s a sound principle, but my eagerness to inform these poor people about its genious might have been overly enthusiastic.

Tag: Video