I have recently returned from the netherlands, home of my maternal roots, and therefore, also half of me. It is the flattest place I have ever seen, speckled with look a like dolls houses and more bicycles than you can shake a stick at. While I was there I spent much of my time looking at said houses, wandering along canals atop a bicycle and visiting Art Museums with my extended family.

For a country which seems so middle class, white, clean and well designed I found myself a little bit wary of how nice everyone was. I couldn't see any tramps/junkies/rude boys stumbling across my designated cycle path. I couldn't find any litter on the streets/stray skanky looking cats/ chewing gum stuck to my shoe at any point during my visit.

Yet I still managed to be suprised by a clean, well designed, rather functional piece of artwork which made me wonder whether this lovely middle of the road existence was really a facade, and whether everyone sat in the big leather armchairs, smoking pipes, reading Marx and preparing for the fall of capitalism with a quiet smile.

i found it here and some of it looked like this

anarchic books lined the walls, teaching us the necessities of life.

and situated in the centre of the room sat a lone photocopier, full of paper and ink and promise.

The books are taken from loompanics a 'hard to find, controversial and unusual' book company

are just a few of my favourite titles.

1 comment:

mysteriousfriend said...

The Policeman is your friend and other lies sounds like a book that will drive me up the wall and down the other side. Just read a little section of it. Wound me up like a toy monkey and left me banging my cymbals together going 'no no no no'