Where were we When

an absolute release may be well out of reach but a momentary dislocation is entirely possible. sitting in a cafe or a garden, a park even, where the air is stirred by the movements of that which is other than yourself, it is possible to experience the dislocation of reality; the truth outside yourself. removal is not the same as dislocation, aside from the former being more conscious, it also implies a movement of the subject, whereas in dislocation it is possible to get lost. removal also implies an absence whereas dislocation contains a very sense of presence albeit less specific. it is in these dislocated situations that i can confront my unreality, those truths which doesn’t form part of my daily existence but of my being.

a tenacious earache and black friday - the obscene and holy sacrament of consumerism - forced me to the medicine cupboard. i’m sure i’m not the only one who has ever experienced that indeterminable slow pause between taking medicine and waiting for it to work; never being quite certain whether it has or not, checking the expiry date and side effects, therefore i understandably had to keep myself busy with something to distract me from the tedium of my malaise. sure enough i started clearing out expired medicines, recalling each event for which they were needed; a horrible skin rash in croatia, a fever analgesic from a holiday in africa, cortisone, ibuprofen, and more peculiar and familiar names on tubes and bottles announcing their promises and effects. cysts and sores and bites and burns. by then the pills had started working which gave me enough false optimism to continue to the next cupboard filled with redundant electronics; lonely, outdated and shattered devices which i once couldn’t do without. when i unpack my brain it is the same.

inevitably i came across my old ipod and after ascertaining whether it still worked, started scrolling through memory lane. it took only a few minutes of listening to convince myself to hold on to it. i was once again outside myself - dislocated.
i found my spirit animal in single-use devices, the break of a connection to a world i have no connection with was instantly liberating.
the rijksmuseum a few weeks later: tu wei-cheng and his art comprising the archeology of the present. his investigations into the artefacts we leave behind may be a little obvious but it hit a certain note with me - questioning progress; by re-looking at objects from our recent past and present and putting them in the context of antiquity, not only does he question the meaning of the passing of time but also imbues them with a new sense of mystery. for not all advances are forward and the mere notion of it has a built-in vanity which is bound to stumble; as it was so it shall be, seems to describe all ruin.

i remember the the telephone ringing, long ago. it stood in one part of the house and one had to to a bit of a rush to get to it if you were in the other part. it rang so loudly one could even hear it outside. mysteriously one picked up the earpiece and announced yourself; to whom? who called? it was before the answering machines and faxes, so one would take the call without knowing. now it seems adventurous even.

typing is a skill i never acquired, i always constructed my thoughts with the muscle memory of longhand. i was happy to see the industrial phycologist’s advice for ibm’s office workers; to doodle. you can’t doodle with a keyboard, you cannot type in the sand.

don’t misunderstand me, i find new technology and the internet’s reach astounding events to be part of, i just need to be a bit more careful of my own habits, habits which are not forced but coaxed from parties with no interest in my online wellbeing. the single-purpose device has perhaps dialed me back a bit, but the release from a device’s hold is a tremendous relief, it then returns to its natural state of being a tool, a single-purpose tool, but one without opinions and comments, sales pitches and interruptions, which allows me to focus and think for myself. i find it very hygienic which is why i kept my ipod and invested in a writing tablet. as a poet once said; when everything is taken away from me, i will still write with my bloodied fingers against the sky. if people can boast about their proud battles against drugs, alcohol or cigarettes, i’m sure i can also about my battle against the device.


Future Conditioning

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Optical Fluidity

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Horse Tales

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Peasantism

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Autumn Uprising

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Bon Appetit

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Vanity Masterclass

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Save the Slaves

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Natural Phenomena

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Anticipate Away

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The Two, Three Houses

nostalgia is my favourite drug

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Decay or Don’t

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The Numbers Game

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Fifty Shades of Freedom

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The Tyranny of Objects

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Food for Fear

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Memorial to Perfection

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Revised Regiment

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Intimate Invocation

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Le Bonheur de la Table

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Body Talk

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Disturbance

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Fontanacy

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Background

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Fictional Realities

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Magic Carpet Ride

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Fake Fortress

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Awake

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More or Less

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Coagulating Colour

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Luxus Eternum


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She Works Art for the Money

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Proper Property

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Fake Freedom

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Slave

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Caillebotte’s Boys

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Opium II

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Future Futility

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Eponymous Experiences

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Blue Bottle

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Whispers against the Wind

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Manet Away

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Ange’s Eden

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Time Machine

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Redesigning Happiness

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Illuminatrix

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The Little Flower of Confidence

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Igbonics

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Dark Juice

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Sameness Together

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Made by the Machine

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Alice through the Looking Glass

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Streetwalking

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Punctuated Perception

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Dirty Dancing

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Picasso for President

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Le Pavillon des Passions Humaines

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Retrotopia

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Mirage

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Opium I

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Feeding Medea

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I can’t stand your Kisses

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Lactose Intolerance

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Lover’s Friends

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Big Yellow Taxi

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Memories of Words

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Different Nature

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Cost

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Demimonde Dictionary

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Without Hope

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Construction

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Foliage

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The Library

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Under the Pyramid

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Over the Rainbow

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My Perogative

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Pictorial Phenomena

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The Other William

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Beard Pride

barbe des combats

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That Figures

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Recourseless

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Collectors Corner

kees van dongen, portrait of madame agnelli (1958)

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Overthinking Overthinking

as francis bacon said when he was asked if with his paintings he tries to depict shock and horror;

… the real horror is out there on the streets’.

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Medieval Paradox

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Bad Boy Mad Face

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Anatomy Now

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Winter Wallcover

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Truth Told

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On An Artful Note

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A Turn for Turner

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Arty Design vs Designer Art

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The Original Bearhug

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Memories of Magnum

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Morbid Morphosis

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Monstrous Movements

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Recession-Chic

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Countertenor Couture

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A Word on Weave

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Living Furniture

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If the Shoe Fits

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Preservation Theory

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Entrée Les Ã‰tagères

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Delicious Dior

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Tabula Rasa


studio mood… yungchen lhamo on repeat


Tabula Rasa

i find a circular corner table quite indispensable to create a more dynamic interior in bedrooms and living rooms. one can almost say it’s one of my style signatures - a great platform for expressing a character or a theme in a room without being too intrusive or pretentious. the selection i use for it is generally a reflection of my mood. today… contemporary-classic clutter.


Concealment

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All Made of Myth

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2013

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What’s for Dinner, Sir?

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In the White

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Simply Scary

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For-Birden Food

so after reading this piece of culinary history, i thought again about the strange preperation method, the even stranger ritual of consuming it and the ultimate pariah of enjoying it… l’ortolan.

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The Art of Eating

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Alternative Realities

suffering from both escapist tendencies and diabetes it is probably not strange at all that from an early age i was fixated on the extraordinary tales of jules verne and his prolific stories of journey and wonder. by the time i read them, they were more fiction than the science fiction of before but they still contained a quality that could transport a boy like me into a fantastic world beyond. born from curiosity in a time where these types of voyages were hardly possible, these novels were often illustrated with engravings to explain mr verne’s whimsies and the characters’ adventurous predicaments - inventing new machines, animals and entire worlds in an alternative reality that seemed so far fetched yet nearly possible was his gift. the imagery of otherness from those books remain and i look to them in inspiration at times when impossibilities threaten to become reality…


A Musing on Memory…

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Auction Picks

having received their latest sale catalogue, i’ve made my eclectic selection from the next stephan welz & co auction in cape town…i’m kinda getting with the oriental meets memphis look - both have a certain playfulness of shape


Lacing It…

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Have oranges…Will bake.

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Organic Geometry

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Give us Today our Daily Pears in Red Wine…

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No Messing Around…

the less glamourous sister-of-pavlova. a generous pudding from the privileged sons of Eaton College circa 1930’s. today it has suffered various incarnations but as far as a fool proof answer to dessert goes…who can argue something that is this edible even after it’s been dropped on the floor.

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Twisted Tales

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Ketoacidosis

even though having lived with diabetes for 20 years is no laughing matter, i have after a night of over-indulgence suddenly realised how pretty the colours are on the ketone urine test strips. not really pantone and not the healthiest choice probably, but i love the dirty seagreen of the glucose at + faible and the rusty pink of ketones at ++ moyen.


Fruits from the Forest

this is probably going to sound a bit martha, but i recently came upon a delightful recipe for odors in the home from a victorian home maintenance guide.

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First House Flaws

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Happy Birthday Cake

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Overstyling

everything in 3D…

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Tray Chic

serving or display, trays are invaluable as the anywhere-everywhere decor accessory…

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Black & White

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Happy New Year

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More Spring

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The Garden Room

luxury is space…space to grow things.

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Spring is in the Air

the change of seasons always put things in perspective for me again. we live in such a man-made world, and nature has this way of showing us how feeble our control over our own destiny is. i love feeling foolish in this way. it makes me forget to have a panic attack today.


A Martha Moment


Chess


playing the game…

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Home is in the Colonies

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Rites of Passage

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Plants 1, Flowers 0


realise the object of it…

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Kitchen Confidential

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Stupidity & Sensitivity

Since it’s nearly impossible to gauge each individual’s level of sensitivity or stupidity, I’d rather play it safe and classify this site as suitable for adults only. Although that term is still nebulous to me, the responsibility remains that of the viewer.


Curating & Criticism

The identification and definition of creativity are two different things. Challenging conventional interpretations and perspectives expands its validity and effect. I am convinced that collaborations and participation across creative industries allow for discovering a greater realisation of our potential.


Art & Collecting

I love mixing styles and textures, media and materials. But I believe in respecting personality when it comes to choosing work. There is of course the investment angle which is too boring to discuss here….or anywhere really. It is important to remember that when you live with art, it should be alive to you. That is to say it needs to move you. You need to have an affair with it.


Fashion & Architecture

Starting with the roof over your head and the clothes on your back. These are the things we inhabit. Without entering into the fashion vs trend debate. They also shape our sensibilities and the way we present ourselves.


Design & Function

Whether colour or form is your thing. Pattern or plain. What we choose to live with can make our lives easier or more challenging. Consider your commitment and convince yourself.


Gardens & Flowers

Since Eden it has been a fascination, inspiration, an indulgence of kings and common gardeners, a joy. No home is complete without it. Whether you go for potted, landscaped or organic, dry or shade, just go for it.


Treasures & Trash

Most of which are filed under S for sentimental. I respect that.
Heirlooms. Bargains. Souvenirs. Gifts. Curiosities. Found Objects. Impulse Buys.
Never hide what’s important or meaningful. Denial is a very ugly word.


History & Reality

Get to know yourself and others. As much as we live in the same world, everyone has their own version of it. Live up to yours, never fear your dreams and ideals lest they remain aspirations forever.