Today’s meeting: Minutes
members in attendence: 10
Idea: watch while i swing slash all your wrists, ( I know how badly you need your wrists ), and then brag about it… there will be books writen about me, about this- most likely writen by you.
STRONG Disclaimer. I am easily affected, mentaly, by sudden weather changes. It’s autum. I have no idea how/when that happened. I AM possibly/hopefully, HIGH . ‘Been excitedly smoking (inhaling) the hotish, coldish air.
minutes for Member numero uno
NAme: she sexy - talented artist, driven/motivated, intelligent, great ideas, exciting project
but still…damn she be sexy: and this what she brought to the table
My idea is. I think . I believe…
I magine. I don’t know. I have. My contacts…
I don’t need help. I don’t want to do (or even really merge) with (your proposed project)
exposure, artists, the rest of the world, people, [ Centre Goerges] Popimduo, Tokyo art museums (name forgotten…she was speaking too fast by here)
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TRANSLATION: i HAVE A PROJECT. i HAVE BEEN WORKING ON IT FOR LONG NOW. i AM GETTING IT DONE. i NEED A FLOOR TO REST MY FEET ON WHILE I GET IT WORKED, AND THIS WITH ALL YOU SEEMS APPROPRIATE.
MY PROJECT, MY WORK, DONE MY WAY, SERVES ME. YOU CAN EITHER SIT HERE AND LISTEN TO ME OR GO HOME AND…LISTEN TO ME. or, I will throw a tantrum and beg you all to save my project just so it doesn’t end in the same waste basket in which your own project, all six of you, ended.
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REACTION: (phybs). wtf u going on about. I speak not so many languages. actually I speak dialects of just one language…Go over it again, another three noise filled hours please. Or I pee on myself and wet your luxurious shoes………………………………………………………………………………………………
Mensa...this is not a COKE advert
Another day at the office (‘takes students a year- that’s all many get here- to explain to family, friends and nosey neighbours, that Fabrica is not exactly a school). So any way, yeah; It’s another day at the office, and after a whole month (August) off, one would imagine, even to one’self that this being our second week back, we all bursting with excitment and energy, breaking knuckles, bursting air balloons.
Although, if am to be fair (which is unlikely), the last 12 days have been swell …excitement in the air; the summer is finally gone(mostly), and finally, FINALLY, phoebe can catch her sleep as easily as everyone else (insomnia is a £ bitch. The stickyness of the oh-so-humid nights is even a fatter- gum chewing- long red lips-nail biting BITCH! -sorry mum.
There’s been smiling faces in the halls. Animated chats on the bus-(an all-Italian nightmare is/must be/should be that Linea 1 bus that Fabrica students take.
Nothing would ever push me sO far off the edge- if I were a [Treviso]Italian, as an 8.40(am) bus filled to the hinges, with annoyingly dressed, incredibly loud young/lost/confused foreigners speaking a language (ENGLISH) foreign to even them; the painful to comprehend accents, makes you (a fascist Trevisan) wonder why nobody volunteers to teach sign language at that noneschool.
For all of last week not a single one of us has paid any attention to the mountains; noticing the times, like we did before August, at which they reappear , keeping up with their (mountains) little hide and seek joys.
Not very many have mentioned the delicious tomatoes ripping well into the road, or that cornfield about which I can’t stop fatansizing being caught “red handed”, lying flat on my butt in the middle rows, listening to the leafy corn-stalks speaking in whispers. Saying prayers to She who is Holier than I. Hoping that the greeness they hold, that which then sorrounds me will sanctify me, carrying me, my spirit, closer to She.
There has noticebly been, for the last 1 week, and for obvious reasons, loud & explicitly descriptive recitations of the many European cities, romantic towns in the south, countries in North Africa (aka Morrocco), the elusive cents and pennies all those things that everyone of the batch managed to squeeze in the last 31 days.
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blankblankblankblankblankblankblankblank ineedtogoslowonthemushrooms mushroomgetpeoplehigh ineedtogoslowonthecoke. cokegetspeoplehigh ineedtogotobed thispostisgottoend
mine. yours.ours
Every one person’s holiday seems much better than every one person’s holiday; especially those who had a no funds, no budget holiday. There was the smell-the-coffee game in Sicily, carrots for lunch in a different, yet more exotic location et al. September had never semeed so promising (with the august allowance collected in sept!).
Two weeks now, and yeah… the Biennale is gone and done with, just like the summer and the tourist that come with both. Venice is Back to the small old town, floating on the Adriatic sea. which it actually should be allowed to be (films and advertsing, hollywood- tell the truth about venice coz you know it. You have literally given away all the charm…another day, another post)
A new season is coming, contracts end and new ones begin. My human fairies prepare to fly away, and the cornfield is yet to be gone. Work is still great, only it sucks even more.
And now i have no idea when/why I switched tones, to sound like a pink fluffy, feathery diary.
Oh Well.
photos by me.
