Saturday, 19 November 2011

more greek memoires

"Virginity, virginity, where have you gone, leaving me abandoned?
No longer I will come to you, no longer will I come"


being here now all by myself the 4th day i realize I do not want to go and see or meet people.
I do not wish to speak about money.
I read the news every morning. I read about Greece and its debts.
I read about the protests. In Athens, on Wall street.
I know I should do something. Take action. At least react.
But now I rather see the ants getting drunk from spilt Ouzo on the terrace floor.
I rather spend time with the cats than think of money.
A sleeping cat in a country of economic crisis. Life has to go on...
The old bent down ladies in black going on with their daily routine.

I watch a leave fall.
Smell the fresh laundry.

I was never rich.
I never had a pool.
I never knew anyone with a pool.
I never wished to have one.

Being rich, that is what I am now.
Sitting here writing in the greek mountains.
Watching a cat sleep.
Smoking and drinking Ouzo before lunch.

Is it a privilege?

a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people.

Well, tomorrow I will wear a bikini and make a nasty piece about a woman who does not care about banks, national debts, BNP and the IMF.
who loves the female artist?
another female artist.
sometimes a male artist who just loves this female artist (as a person and/or as an artist)

but look at the rest of the system.

the art bitches, sorry, the art women who work within arts, curators, gallerists, museumpeople ..they like male artists, gay male artists and hetero male artists because they love them back.

the female artist can be tricky. difficult. make difficult statements. be uncomfortable somehow. talk about periods or about annoying feminism.

the male curator etc then…they favor male artists because they are buddies. and often they are gay so they favor other gay artists…

so what is left for the female artists?


memoires from a greek residency

yes, imagine how people lived without electricity.
they did not stay up in the late hours. they went to sleep when it got dark.

Im sitting here in candlelight. Alone. In the greek mountains. There is thunderstorm.
I can not see the mountains - they are covered in mist.

But I have my MacBook Pro - thanks Steve Jobs.

It's giving me a little light. I just hope the 77% of battery will last for a while.

I hope my 6 candles will last.

I hope the dear electricity comes back soon.

What if I need to have a shit?

I can't find the toilet in the dark.

I will poo in a pot.

what is this whole glamour stuff? I mean in the art scene?
are artists glamourous or are the hang arounds the glam ones?

I mean…artists who often deal with tough issues, concern their work about serious things, reveal themselves almost to the bone etc - how could they in the end be glamorous?

I mean yes, in one sense probably, in their leisure time…

or perhaps there are the different ones…the glam artists and the serious ones.
And what about shyness? I always find artists to be quite shy. If they are not drunk or on drugs. Quite introverted actually. Not wanting to be the center of attention…

I am 36. an artist. currently sitting alone in a house in the mountains of Lefkada, Greece. I am working. This is not glamorous.

"Το αύριο, θα είναι καλύτερο."

Tomorrow will be better.