AC | sanctuary

ghent forelstraat, bisserart

raining cats and dogs all week long and more of it promised for the weekend. central heating on the blink, maybe the problem will be solved today. there's hope. last night, i was watching NW, the story based upon Zadie Smith's 2012 novel.

ghent forelstraat, bisserart

not since BORN EQUAL, i got hooked on the tiny silver screen to fully realize the foundations of an inner sanctuary can be easily shaken by our daily realities in which joy, optimism, frustration, anger and rage huddle. 

sanctuary. i almost watch the now fully filled 'new' sideboard more than that tiny telly... ☻

picking up on bits of the daily news, social-economical imbalance will only grow and hit ever more individuals. maybe you, maybe me? and i mean, i aim for sanctuaries around the house, i do. i know why and we all make choices in our lives, and live by them. 

ghent forelstraat, bisserart

and chances need taking, when opportunities arise. i'm pretty sure no one is deprived of those sentiments these days. making also, i guess, cats and dogs look trivial, or the temporary lack of central heating subordinate. veronica's sanctuary this weekend.

ps - to be fair. above graffiti artwork isn"t mine! look for the link in image footing. painted sideboard is mine. ☻

AC | winter room for nostalgia

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

she was fifteen and crushingly in love. amidst the johnny rottens of the era she found peace in a boy three years her senior, wearing stiff pressed white shirts only, adorned with a silver safety pin, under a black shiny longcoat, his dark bangs a stubborn blaze. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

soft punk if ever, alongside the even sweeter you're the one that i want. dreamy lunchtimes, shared in a tiny canteen off the main hall, where forks in potatoes and one veg rattled on worn stoneware. and them four, or five punks huddled up together over sarnies. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

and her. watching their every move, learning fast. all through never ending doses of rotten biology, haughty physics, lamentable latin verse and sweat stinking PE potions, her bets were laying in one camp only : lunchtime break. him. and her. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

for him she would insult that geology bastard, who courted his dreary self smart. for him she would defy home teacher's prying tongue as she choked on hebban olla vogala, while prévert for french helped her along the way of her wild, if unsophisticated fantasies. 

all images (except last one) from my former high school i recently revisited

however. nostalgia can only bring back so much, never that person nor a given situation. stefanie's winter rooms remind me of keepsake days. and my memory wandered to those few weekends i held, a long, long time ago, called OPEN HOUSE. no more, for now. 

i'll bring the cookies! ☺

thank you though, stefanie, for this recollection that could only stem from your gentle probing. i so wish i was living closer by so i could step right into your saintly world and bring me home an angel. and we could sip liquorice tea, for good (wintertime) measure. ♥ 

AC | halloween and school... whaddayaknow...

i had never expected to combine halloween and school, but fate took a leap! here's a mix of today's bonfire night (the well known guy fawkes ~post~ halloween mask), and a fond school memory. both images recycled and popping up on ariane's AC this weekend! ☺ 

subject, as opposed to object

elsene musem, recent exhibition on photorealism, forgot to take down painter's credits. yeah, bad ass me

that can happen. the book i'm taking part in is being put on hold. the socio-historic association financier is objecting to the means of presenting the subject. in other words? they fear they are feeding the artist rather than the promotion of disappeared buildings.