i was just directed to the blog of musa nxumalo and was looking at some of his work on line...
pretty inspiring honest work... so comforting it is to taste a little genuine old s.a flavor while traveling the european hinterlands...

so the artotale project is finished.... it was super busy, fun, hectic and humbling to meet such a grand list of artists....

Adam & Akay, Akim, Alex Diamond, Almut Linde, Ash, Ben Eine, Brad Downey, Boxi, Bronco, Daniel Man, Dave the Chimp, DTAGNO, Evol, Faith47, Flying Förtress, Herakut, Herbert Baglione, Jay-One, Loomit, Mirko Reisser (DAIM), Moki & 1010, Pius Portmann, SKKI, Swoon, Tilt, Trica, Tryone, Vitché & Jana, Zevs, Zezao, 56K.

you can see pictures of the event on just's site
the artotale website, and rik reinkings site....

off to brussels tomorrow to get ready for the epitaph show... rowan is still editing the actual video.... will let you know when the final results are uploaded to vimeo....... kay.. later..*

digging this illustration by Merwe Marchand Le Roux...
and i quote...
"heirdie stad is kak. elke nawek is die fokken selfde. so kan ons dak die venster en vokof see toe..."

we walked past the royal palace at night and my hair stood on end... made me think about the documentary white king, red rubber, black death... the extreme wealth in belguim was largely made through the sweat, blood and pillaging of the congo... the documentary needs to be seen by all...

last night we watched the pixies live...!! momentous occasion for me as much of my life has been to the soundtrack of frank black and many a destructively creative moment has been had to his ingenious lyrics... we then saw a gang of kids throwing bricks in the street at the pub owner... it strangely made me feel a twisted comfort of home... strange things... harlan lost his wallet and found his wallet and found a gold ring and the sun was out but the air was ice.. the local market is full of old stories and dusted objects... i will go back there tomorrow again just to see the layers of european history flake onto the stones... the epitaph show im doing through no new enemies is on saturday... brussels is beautiful and also not polished... kind of rough at the edges.. i discovered the genius russian artist called Vania Zouravliov .... i am in awe... i am homesick but i have much love for this moment now...

inge beckmann from cape town.... beautiful and mysterious woman .....
wonder at her sounds....

in the ocean of noise i heard a voice...
i live in a city of sun and storms
below the beautiful mountains
swell waves of violence...
everything with in reasons...
in the city center the council scrapes and repaints street poles and traffic lights, cleans tags, chases away street kids and vagrants, plants trees and grass down the avenues keeping the city safe and sparkly for tourism.... so first world....
while a half hour drive will take you to crossroads an area lacking toilets
... lacking water.... lacking electricity....lacking
who here among us doesnt see this....
everything with in reasons
the world cup stadium in greenpoint could have been built in athlone....
wouldnt that have helped to address some of the geographical class problems in the city and allow for a flow of money into that non-white area.....
instead the billions of dollars flood into greenpoint...
look after the rich...
eat the rich....
hold fast cape town.....
hold fast....

the people at the constantia waldorf school are so polite....

this issue of the online voice magazine is pretty sick.. from the apartheid legacy to a full section on the fokofpolisiekar documentary... and i saw liam lynch in there somewhere too.... check check check it out...

i slept so deeply two nights ago i felt that i went to another universe completely... i was so tired and i could feel that sleep resonate in me the whole next day like i had died somehow...
im not sure if things are for a reason or if things are random and im not sure if chaos comes out of order or if order comes out of chaos... which is better... does it matter.... i am nihilistic and also dedicated... what a fucking mix.... 

there is just something about this place that gets under my skin...
into my veins... between my sentences... under my words..