Street installation and performance

Baby, where are the fine things you promised me? gently invites the public to reflect on the lost utopia of the quarter-acre block. Based on one of the country's earliest models for simple houses for the working class, Baby where...? is somewhere between installation and street performance. The house changes location every day, mysteriously appearing in the city's financial district one day and on the waterfront the next. Curious visitors are amazed to discover that the house is occupied ship-in-a-bottle style by a man who plays music, cooks or shares a cup of tea with passers-by.

Tu me donnes ta boue, et j'en fais de l'or

Believe me, he deserves a beer... the house trolley snapped at the axle and our friend here managed to have it fixed by the end of the day. Muchos Gracias!

Violette drew me a picture of my house, which I have since coloured in a bit, I think she may have a case for complaint if I have violated her artistic intentions but I promise not to sell it and have a record of the original here for legal purposes.

There were several borrowed quotations today but I think this one was entirely original.

And from the writers of yesteryear, a few words of advise or perhaps warning?

And a trip around the world with Petit Beurre took me to China, the North Pole, Paris, the Taj Mahal and here to Russia where the wild animals perform tricks of their own volition and children are held by kindly one-legged men who appreciate architecture. Merci et bravo Petit Beurre pour mon education geographique.

And speaking of Russia, today I met Aurelien who dropped by with food and drink and a mind full of good ideas. In fact he is a photographer and last night sent me a link to a bunch of photos of his visit to my house. You can click HERE to see some of them. It's impressive what a real photographer can do with a small space, the place looks huge, I wouldn't mind living there myself. This is a picture of him with his wife Elena (who is from Russia - you see finally the tenuous connection I am making). Aurelien has also made a documentary film about shadow puppetry in China, I was very pleased for their visit and hope to catch up with them again.

(The photographer revealed)

And here a remarkable feat of amateur photography to take my own photo and manage to get myself in it as well as the two girls from a nearby town. The girl on the left (you would think my memory for names would slowly get better but clearly this is not the case) is an exchange student from America and her friend is from the host family, they were in Rennes for the day before traveling back to America.

Jesse came back as promised with tales of performances and dramas which I hope to check out today.

Gardens are a place to sit and dream

Little brothers, little sisters, friends, lovers and everything in between. Gardens are a place to dream and think about the little things in life. Lora (or perhaps Fora??) would agree with me I think, her frock says bonjour and it was a bonne jour.

Henna sisters say bonjour with their new hair styles too, it appears there are many good reasons to come to Rennes, but the heart of the reason is always to be with people. The elder sister came to be with her lover in Rennes (from Strasbourg I believe), then her sister came to be with her (for the holidays at least). They bonded through dying each other's hair with henna then came over to my house to celebrate.

Dear Magdalina,

if this is a picture of me don't worry, my hair is still thick on my head and luckily my body is big enough to support my large head when I am standing as much as when I put my face to the window. So please do not be concerned. I promise to smile more in the future. Please keep up your drawing, I like receiving letters very much,

Stephen

But what kind of attention?

He says it didn't hurt but I remember reading that we can be selective about what we recall as pain.

Jesse from England. A long way for a small view.

He is on his way to New Zealand in September so was getting a sneak preview. I wonder if technically the interior of my house is still New Zealand? Or if it is not, where and when did it change nationality? Can a house change nationality. When I am in it, it still seems to be home and I am a New Zealander (it says so in my passport), but as my house has no passport it may be in difficult territory. A boat manages to fit into this strange gap sometimes I believe. I know when the first french settlers came to New Zealand in the late 1830s, they were met by the english army who told them to stay put on their boat on the shores of Araroa penninsula in the South Island. For the best part of a year they remained under French law but the law only existed on the boat. As soon as they walked onto land it was British rule.

Perhaps the best thing to do is to do as you like in your own home and when you go out, watch out for regulations.

She is studying theatre, I'm not sure if I was therefore time out or time in. I didn't manage to do a dance or recite any memorable text, speaking in french effort enough. Perhaps she was the performance today. I will need some advice on this.

Green tea makes you smile. It's scientifically proven.

Tomorrow's intellectuals a Rennes

This is a note I got from the mother of Constant. I think today I felt constant also. Or at least I think Constant and I had a true affinity today.

This is from Leiah's mum, and yes Leiah did seem pretty happy today, she even sung me a song with accompanying dance called 'Click Clack', I dunno if it's recorded but there is no denying it's catchability. Leiah also was a fine drawer, below is a picture of bunny, I think it is hiding in the grass.

And speaking of drawing. Here are another couple of fine examples. I especially like the blue man with big ears, it reminds me of myself in the morning when I know I have to get up but my ears are more willing than my body.

This is the first tattoo wedding ring I have seen. She has a G for Guilliame in the middle and the names of her two children either side. No chance of that falling behind the sofa, for sure.

And a narrative drawing of conversation, tea, ukulele and a very sunny day WITH NO RAIN!

And meanwhile there was a steady stream of discussion in all windows. (more stories to come - for now here are some pictures)

Doetinchem and red-heads

Is it the sunshine, is it the bronze stone of the church, is there a highly developed appreciation of carrots or is there a lot of red-heads in Doetinchem? Being a bit of a ginga myself I could appreciate the aesthetic.

It was a busy busy day in Doetinchem, the sun was out and determined to scorch everything in it's path so I found a nice bunch of trees on the town square to nestle under. It appears that it was the perfect location for finding people of the shorter variety who appeared in all windows all day.

Half way through the day my friend Femke from Groningen who is traveling with me at the moment, came into the house. She is a native Dutch speaker and had a nice time talking to a bunch of people. She also managed to take some great pictures.

Meanwhile I was able to observe the goings on and managed to get these photos of the church. It was a weird sensation to be outside my own house looking in, like being a visitor in your own town.

an evening of portraits

When the night comes, the air cools slightly and with it comes the pleasant buzz of festival goers and earwigs. The earwigs don't wait for an invitation, they come in through the windows, the doors, through the grass... luckily there is room for all of us

A night of portraiture.

And some portraits of my own, this is Bart.

And this is Anniko and Tom, they brought their brother and sister (respectively) along too, so by the end of it we were living like the Brady Bunch (if you were born before 1985 you might need to look that up on imdb.com - it's an American TV show)

And here is Celine who has already been around the world several times, a seasoned traveller. Her folks took her traveling in a boat from a young age so she is able to confirm that the earth is flat, otherwise she would never have made it back home. Her arm in a sling however is confirmation that no matter how far you travel you don't always know what's going to jump out in front of you.

And here is a portrait of fresh sun-burn. She spent all day on the beach and by the end of the day she was competing with the lighthouse for glowing heat.

Ok I gotta apologise for this as a portrait but these guys were great and approximately 240 percent more goodlooking than the Yeti family portrait that the wind and I managed to take here.

I dunno who wrote this, but if he's still on the dijk, someone throw him a stick of bread before he slips into the ocean.

The best offer of (yesterday) evening from Else. I don't know what kind of holiday she had in mind but I hope she enjoys yoga.

The painting on the right (the green one) I bought at a local gallery, they have a bunch of hand-made paintings made onto postcard sized pieces of wood. I really like this one but when it came down to it I didn't want to give it away. I don't know who the artist is but I like their style.

Home is where the heart is... where did you put yours?

The day was hot like a roasting tray and all of here in Vlissingen were sun dried tomatoes by the end of the day. Luckily someone several hundred years ago worked out that by sitting up a few metres on the dijk you can get a breeze floating through your living room that makes everything seem ok again.

This is Roos and Mouryn (Roos is her daughter) who sat with me on the front deck. In fact it was to inspire a cascade of mother-daughter visits for the evening, like a kind of genetic echo in the summer twilight.

This daughter didn't live with her mother but they each shared a curiosity for the world, one exploring the inner workings of the human body through ultrasonic waves, the other from traveling to the corners of the earth.

And in case you thought it was the other way around, it was her mother that did the traveling.

These two like to keep family close because their sister/auntie was at my house too (do you wish I could remember names as much as I wish it?). Yeah I can see the family resemblance particularly with the Zeeland evening good-looking filter on. Perhaps that's why people who live here don't leave in a hurry, once they see the light change no-one else looks quite as glowing.

Mother house - daughter house... or maybe they're boys?

More sisters, this time from out of town. Both artists I believe, we had a great talk about simplicity. I won't go on about it. It would ruin the point.

These guys were friends and I wished I taken a photo because Jantine was telling me about her work with immigrant children. This note may be the closest you come to meeting them, look for the yellow flower in their eyes.

And from Whoopi (whom I met yesterday and returned today with biscuits. Ten points! Go to the top of the class!) a rendition of my house that would wish for at least 6 friends to live here with me, one for each window.

And from Anne Onomous a comment that will go into the top-hat of 'great titles for greeting cards and estranged family gatherings'. I hope to use it in my second book.... my first one will be called 'things I could think up myself', the followup will much snappier and good-looking.