irgendwo

Pocket memory

Last weekend I went to Berlin. In my pockets I had sewed two memories two friends had shared with me. In my trouser pocket "sea all around me, I can't reach the beach". In the pocket of my coat "my father's hands". I walked around for two days. I could feel the memories in my pockets.

Two possible ideas:
1. Donate a memory in exchange for another memory!
Write a memory down and bring it to me in my temporary office at the City Archive. Bring a piece of clothing with at least one pocket (a pair of trousers, a jacket, whatever you want as long as it has a pocket) and leave it with me. In exchange for your memory I will embroider somebody else’s memory on the inside of your pocket.
When you get the piece of clothing back, the pocket will carry the “Memory Pocket” label on the outside. The memory will be safely stored on the inside. The pocket will be sewed up, it is up to you if you open it and read the memory, open it and use the pocket but not read the memory or leave it closed.
2. Donate a memory!
Write a memory down and bring it to me in my temporary office at the City Archive or mail it to me. I will sew all the memories on the inside of a suit. I will wear the suit and go on a journey (where and why?)

Fade to black

I managed to get my hands on a few of the last packs of "Fade to black" Artistic Z Polaroid film in the world. This polaroid film was produced by the no longer existing company Polaroid and this particular badge of film was actually a faulty product. Once the film got out of the camera it looked beautiful but within minutes the colours started to change, getting darker and darker, turning into a completely black image within 24-72 hours. I'm still not sure how, but I have the feeling I could do some interesting things with this film in a semester devoted to memory.

The other day I was talking to people about how you sometimes remember the photo of a particular moment and not the moment itself. Something completely the opposite is desribed in a book in which people write about how they remembered a particular moment because they very specifically chose not to take a photo or because something went wrong in the process of catching the moment (it's somewhere in my house, I'll post the title later). A few weeks ago I was in Buchenwald and was amazed how everybody was taking photos of the ovens in the crematorium, almost without looking at them, just being concentrated on taking the image.
There's a lot to say about the medium of photography and how people use it and I might write a bit more about that soon. But first I'm going to try out the "Fade to black" film.

vergiss/forget

Promise to the black grouse

The eyebrows of the Black Grouse (“Korhoen” in Dutch). That’s what I dream about at night. I saw them in the Visiters Centre of the National Park “Sallandse Heuvelrug”. They’re even more beautiful and impressive in real, especially during the mating season when they swell up. Imagine having such eyebrows. I wouldn’t mind. Now and then.

Last year only four male black grouse were seen. The females are brown and almost invisible, therefore harder to find. Every year the male birds are counted. The National Park Sallandse Heuvelrug, situated in the district of Hellendoorn in Overijssel, is the only remaining natural area in the Netherlands where they are to be found. They are almost extinct.

The black grouse needs a lot of space and there isn’t a lot of natural space left in Holland. The National Park Sallandse Heuvelrug is one of the most beautiful places in Holland. If it goes well with the black grouse, it goes well with the National Park. A lot of people don’t understand this. They think it is ridiculous to spend money on trying to save/preserve these birds. They talk about “those stupid black chicken”. It wouldn’t surprise me if those are the same people who think it is ridiculous to invest in art.

Although I was born at the edge of the National Park and spent half of my youth wandering around in what felt like my own huge backyard, I've never seen a black grouse. To me, it is sort of a mythical animal. It represents the place in Holland I love most, but it kept itself hidden all that time. I'm not sure if I should try to meet the bird. But I'll spend some time there in spring and I hope he'll try to meet me. If he's still there by then.

In the meantime I'll be producing red eyebrows.

Dust for thought

Second day in Weimar. The vacuum cleaner doesn't work. The bag is stuffed with the old dust from Holland. I can't find a new bag and empty the old one. Old dust in a new trash bin. An empty vacuum cleaner bag to be filled with new dust. Here I am.