With a 1 meter square piece of plywood strapped to my back I stepped off the train after returning from a late evening trip to Amsterdam to get the last of my supplies. Fighting the burly wind striking harmonics in the rigging of the huge array of saiboats in the harbor, I made my way along the wall to my new home. Ik ben de kunstenaar op de maand. or so that's the title for those of us who will be sharing the fishing house for our presentations.
I moved in today: 1. to my little apartment, house #70.
2. to the fish house KP7 for my work.
To inaugurate my entrance I did a little dumpster diving and found among other things, a variety of enameled pots to use for cleaning the glass. I wheeled them down to the shore and immersed myself in something that is hard to explain. That timeless connection with experience and process, life and living. Drawing water from the frequent waves I scrubbed the hard, caked grime from the pots with sand and crushed shells, a mixture quite prevalent here and well used for a variety of things. At first I thought of myself as immersing myself in the history of this place as I dunk the pots. But I realized that it is not a sense of history that i'm touching, but rather a connection to reality the unchanging qualities of physical existence, experience.
Exfoliating too.
I was creating nostalgia, aware of the importance of this experience and the sheer wonder of having such an opportunity. A moment you know has impact even before you can see the crater's edge.
While I spent several hours at the Museum, it felt like most of the day was spent in the train.
But here I've got to give a shout out to Jan from the metal department at the rietveld.
No other way would I have been able to cut PVC end caps O.D. 350mm but with his help...Worth way more than a few pieces of Laurierdrop candy. But it seemed to put a smile on his face.
Here at two in the morning with the fresh start just ahead I end this entry with a full brain and a new neighbor.
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