You’re back, the 2007 Europe Art Grand Tour left you speechless for nearly a whole month, in both languages.
Winter solstice (summer’s in the northern hemisphere) is on us, Sydney’s cold, and the endless summer you’ve been experiencing dissipated in an haze of jetlagged early mornings wakes.
So much went through your head during this blog-silent times, difficult to harness back the whole of it in a simple post.
Few things will surface anyway, like this picture of an amazing representation of what the field was like at Callum’s Valhalla.
At the end of it no self-guided booklet of Venezia’s weeds got produced, but you managed to have the Squatspace name recorded by the radar of Biennale’s side-events.
How funny was the big circus, the VIPs, the nationalistic pride showing itself in who’s got the best showbag or who managed the best party with the most exclusive list of guests…
Weeds were everywhere, overwhelmingly so.
The YOU will disappear, to leave room for IT.
It‘s confused, but slowly will emerge out of prepackaged interpretations.
It never assumes what it doesn’t know yet.
