Silex Nina (Lila) by Veloo LV, Nina

Something that you want to touch, but you can't touch it. You keep fantasizing about it. It seems close, but at the same time far away.

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 10:47:08 UTC

#Untouchable#Longing#Fantasy

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 10:51:52 UTC

#Tactility#Romanticism

When I was a child, I was never allowed to touch cars. I used to imagine the surface of the car to feel soft and velvety, like a soft metal-like structure. I kept fantasizing about it. One snowy winter morning, I touched the bumper of a car for the first time. It was hard, and it was lighter than I imagined it to be. Cars suddenly became real to me.

Novalis: “To romanticize the world is to make us aware of the magic, mystery and wonder of the world; it is to educate the senses to see the ordinary as extraordinary, the familiar as strange, the mundane as sacred, the finite as infinite.”

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:05:48 UTC

Big machines; cranes. They are huge, they are bright yellow with black, bold letters on them. They are everywhere, but they seem to disappear in the scenery. They are huge compared to my small body, a lot of people don't even realize how big they are. I would like to touch a big yellow crane; I want to press my body against it to make the machines seem real.

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:10:09 UTC

#Poetry#TheEverdayMystery

Big fields of forests, located on a mountain, seen while sitting on the right side of a bus driving uphill. They seem soft, like a blanket.

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:14:57 UTC

#Senses#Sensory#Language

The bald head of the bus driver you're sitting behind. His head is shiny, polished, and tiny hairs are growing symmetrically on top of it. If you touch the driver's head, the bus will crash. The hairs look like a tiny, soft forest.

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:18:19 UTC

#Grand#Rocks#Minerals

Huge rocks, minerals. I love huge rocks. I want to press my body against a big, textured rock. I could look at rock formations all day. It's the same feeling you have when you see a cute puppy; you just want to squeeze it. I was nine years old when I saw a mountain for the first time in my life. They are huge, they are untouchable.

World that are connected to 'reality', but have something unexpected, and/or magical/mystical to it.

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:28:23 UTC

#Magical#Mystical#TheUnexpected

Yoko Ono, "Grapefruit" (book, 1964)

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:31:23 UTC

#YokoOno#Grapefruit#1964#InstructionArt#DreamReality

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:36:04 UTC

Anh Tran, Painting 2021

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 12:40:13 UTC

#AnhTran#Painting#2021

Margriet van Weenen

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 19:56:50 UTC

Seen in Akerk Groningen

The Holy Mountain (1973), still

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:16:28 UTC

#AlejandroJodorowsky#TheHolyMountain#Jodorowsky#Surrealism#Mountain#Salvation

The Holy Mountain (1973), still

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:16:55 UTC

Alejandro Jodorowsky: The Holy Mountain (1973) still

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:17:28 UTC

#AlejandroJodorowsky#TheHolyMountain#1973#Spirituality

In this mystical masterpiece, Jodorowsky himself plays the role of The Alchemist, a guru who guides a group of pilgrims, each representing a planet in the solar system, on a magical quest to Lotus Island where they must climb the Sacred Mountain in search of spiritual enlightenment.

Bright, vibrant colours and imagery

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:24:20 UTC

#Bright#VibrantColours#BrightVibrantImagery

Language as a material

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:26:40 UTC

#Language#Material#LanguageAsMaterial

Sergej Parajanov, The Color of Pomegranates (1969), still

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:31:23 UTC

#SergejParajanov#TheColorOfPomegranates#1969#Parajanov

Symbolism

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:32:29 UTC

Amazing stuff by Iasos (please read the Youtube comments)

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:35:16 UTC

#Iasos#Spirituality

Eating a building

lvveloo — 2022-09-15 20:51:46 UTC

#Food#EatingABuilding#Eating#PossibleImpossibilty

There was a Rietveld graduate a few years back that graduated by eating a building. She went to the site of the building every single day, and envisioned herself eating every single piece of that building. I believe she presented it by showing pictures of that site, it was absolutely amazing. However, I can't seem to find it anywhere.. Was it a vision? If I can figure out her name I'll update this!

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 10:46:54 UTC

#Chicken#Eggs#Egg

LEAVES LOOK LIKE EARS. EARS LOOK LIKE POWER ENGINES. BIG MACHINES COULD KILL HUMANITY WHEN THERE'S A PROBLEM WITH THEIR CODING. EARS COULD KILL YOU WHEN THERE'S A PROBLEM WITH THEIR WIRING.

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 10:51:12 UTC

#EmbodiedObservation#EmbodiedCreation

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 10:52:10 UTC

Salvation Mountain, Leonard Knight

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 17:42:05 UTC

#SalvationMountain#LeonardKnight#LandArt

Salvation Mountain

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 17:43:09 UTC

Salvation Mountain, interior

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 17:44:34 UTC

Salvation Mountain, interior 2

lvveloo — 2022-09-17 17:45:27 UTC

#Religion

Tan Lin, "The Joy Of Cooking", 2004, page 55

lvveloo — 2022-09-20 11:16:21 UTC

plate 6

#Cooking

and not much later (11:51), out pops a pencil. My body is warmish. I feel stale. I have lost my job but not my teeth because it is Thursday. I have stopped watching this film, in fact I cannot stand the cinema because nothing could be more empty than the day it took place.

January 17 tab eclipse

superflat ghost-like Jesus

page 77

lvveloo — 2022-09-21 11:42:30 UTC

“Architecture as Shelter with Decoration on It”
vs.
“Literature as Space with Language Attached to It.”

#Guido van der Werve #Mountain

Silex — 2022-10-12 11:45:57 UTC

#GuidoVanDerWerve#Mountain

Francis Alÿs. When Faith Moves Mountains. 2002 | MoMA

Silex — 2022-10-12 11:49:36 UTC

#FrancisAlÿs#WhenFaithMovesMountains

The Call of the #Mountain #Arne Naess and the Deep #Ecology Movement

Silex — 2022-10-12 13:19:51 UTC

#Mountain#TheCallOfTheMountain#ArneNaess#DeepEcology

Bruno Latour and the Sublime

Silex — 2023-01-24 09:28:01 UTC

#BrunoLatour#Sublime

The geological epoch into which we have entered has been called an age of human beings or Anthropocene due to our species’ destabilizing effects on life itself. In such a time, we no longer imagine a safe or sublime refuge from “nature” like Kant or Shelley. Immanuel Kant, for example, once described the experience of thunderstorms as sublime due to the human ability to find safe harbor from nature in the mind. By contrast, contemporary works of art often leave us vulnerable and suspended in the moment before we can be “marked safe.” The elements no longer confront us as individuals, but as a species. They do not turn us inward, but leave us exposed. They do not suggest an individual’s triumph over nature, but a coming blow to any or all of us.

Slavoj Žižek: Desire, Fantasy and the unreachable

Silex — 2023-01-24 09:48:25 UTC

#SlavojŽižek#Desire#Fantasy#TheUnreachable

Introduction on Slavoij Zizek

Silex — 2023-01-24 09:53:59 UTC

#SlavojŽižek#IntroductionŽižek

Mountain Arat: Book of Westerman. In search of the holy mountain

Silex — 2023-01-24 09:58:00 UTC

#FrankWesterman#Mountain#Arat

The role of animism and spirit in activism. A discussion between Starhawk and Isabelle Stengers.

Silex — 2023-01-24 10:16:33 UTC

#Starhawk#IsabelleStengers#Spirituality#Neo-paganism#Animism

New Materialism: Worlding

Silex — 2023-01-24 10:22:40 UTC

#NewMaterialism#Worldring

Embodied Cognition

Silex — 2023-01-24 10:27:31 UTC

#EmbodiedCognition

Leonard Knight and his Technicolor Mountain

Silex — 2023-01-24 10:30:37 UTC

#LeonardKnight#Mountain

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:14:00 UTC

#Eggs

Banner with outcuts

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:15:04 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:15:49 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:19:02 UTC

#MachineRelation#Hybride#Huchine

Egg paragraph banner

Text on banner

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:20:01 UTC

Since a few weeks, I’ve been getting free food from a charity organization. Every week, they give me a pack of ten eggs. That means I’d have to eat 1.429 eggs a day. I only eat eggs for breakfast. It reminds me that life starts with round edges. It reminds me that different dimensions exist. It makes me realize that beings are connected. It makes me realize that birth is an earthly construction. It makes me realize that I’m human; I knew I was human, all along. An egg fits perfectly in a human hand. I feel bad for the chickens who’s eggs I’ve been eating. I know they might’ve been in pain. I wish I could do something.

River Lovers

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:21:18 UTC

#Ears

He told me he knew all the secrets in the world. He wore a big hat, it was too big and too fluffy. He talked about mountain flowers, and rivers. I talked about nuclear bombs, and that I didn’t care. He got quiet. We got quiet together.

When we arrived at the Central Station of Amsterdam, we took the boat to the northern part of the city. I saw him looking through a peephole; the only thing that you could see was moving water. They told us we have a similar taste in music.

I told him I hoped a nuclear bomb would fall on Amsterdam. But it would be such a shame for the canals to be destroyed. He got quiet again. He was a quiet person. He told me that he sometimes looks for fruits and vegetables at the farmers market that people have left behind at the end of the day. Apparently, he and his friends make meals from them together. It was supposed to be a special, and bonding experience. I was so jealous. I wanted to take his big fluffy hat, and jump from the boat in the IJ. I wanted my skin to absorb all of the polluted water, and swim to the bottom, and dig a hole, and bury his big fluffy hat at the bottom of the river, then swim up again, climb on the boat, and hold his hand.

I imagined us kissing, and I imagined his hands touching my skin. But the only thing I receive is quietness from his side. Radio silence. Nothing. Like a vanishing points in space, and in time. I kept reminding myself that ears see things that you can’t see with your eyes.

That’s when I knew what I had to do. The idea came to me from outer space, just like love and desire had. I took his hand. He looked at me confused, and he smiled a little. I walked with him to the edge of the boat, and I pushed him off the railing. I jumped after him. I think he screamed, and he might have scratched me. The water was incredibly cold. We turned into electric eels. I kissed him, and I think he kissed me back. People screamed at us. But that’s okay, because our love is like liquid; eyes will never be able to see it fully.

Short story, paragraphs... Not edited yet- perhaps to be put into an artist book? Tried to print on banners - not sure if that works (I don't think so)

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:22:59 UTC

#Literature#Story#Poetic #ArtistBook

The first time in my life that I remember blowing out the candles of my birthday cake, I wished for world peace. I remember I strategically calculated what the best wish was you could possibly make. I quickly came to the realization, that wishing for world peace was the best possible wish to make. It benefitted every single being on earth. Since then, on every birthday, I wished for world peace.

When I was about seven years old, me and my family stayed at an anarchist camping site for a few days. We slept in a small caravan. On the second day, I had a huge allergic reaction. I remember not being able to breathe. I couldn’t leave my bed, I couldn’t walk anymore; there was too little oxygen in my blood. A few days after the allergic attack, I got diagnosed with asthma. Since then, I remember wishing for my asthma to be cured, instead of wishing for world peace.

When I was around fourteen years old, I realized that it didn’t seem to work. I never outgrew my asthma. Since then, I’ve been mostly wishing for human connections. Sometimes I make a wish for a friend. Every time I blow out the candles of my birthday cake, my wish for world peace still pops up in my mind. Sometimes I feel a lot of guilt; I feel incredibly selfish. Sometimes I wish I never stopped wishing for world peace.

A few months ago, I read on the internet that one of the best way to prevent a kidnapping, is to look the kidnapper straight in the eyes before they are able to do something. Apparently, the element of surprise is gone, because they’ll know that you’ve already seen them. Since I’ve read that tip, I’ve been looking every person I come across on the street in their eyes. Some people smile at me. Some people don’t seem to notice that I’m looking at them. Some people purposefully look away. Some people keep staring back.

Your brain can’t create new faces on its own. Every dream you’ve had with people in it, you’ve apparently seen in your life. I’ve also read that on the internet.

Lately I’ve been having a reoccurring dream of a house in Amsterdam in which I’ve lived in for almost two years. It looked like a grey, concrete block from the outside. It was a strange place. It was a heavy place. In my dreams, my friends would live in that house after I’ve moved out. It’s never the same friends. The dreams are incredibly calming, painful, and nostalgic. It’s a feeling that I didn’t know existed. I remember the living room exactly how it used to be. It feels like I could be there, if I would close my eyes. I could draw every inch of the house from my memory if somebody would ask me.

I’ve also been dreaming about frozen landscapes. I’ve had dreams were I was on the North Pole, but sometimes it’s also in Norway. My sister and my dad are always there with me. My sister is going through a hard time right now; she lives in a different city. I haven’t had contact with my dad since the end of summer. In my dreams we’re together. It’s a safe, and happy feeling. There’s an island in Norway that’s called Longyearbyen; you always have to carry a gun when you’re going outside, just in case a polar bear attacks you. In my dreams, the polar bears always attack us. We’re always just too late. The doors won’t close. We’re running too slow. They always say it’s an accident; it’s very rare to see a polar bear in rural areas.

A few weeks ago, I telepathically communicated with a man that I saw walking on the street. I was biking back from the station; I had just visited my old place in Amsterdam. On the back of my backpack, I’d strapped my big chicken plushy. My dad gave it to me last year. It was the first time that he gave me a present in over ten years.

The man on the street was walking with a strange movement. I thought he must’ve been drunk. He had a plastic bag with shrimp crackers in them; the type you get as a side dish at a Chinese restaurant. As I biked past him, I imagined him looking at the chicken. I imagined him saying “Chicken!”. I thought of how strange it must’ve been if he’d actually say “Chicken” right now. One or two seconds later, I heard him mumble “Chicken”. I didn’t say anything back. I imagined how lonely he must’ve felt. I still feel guilty about that interaction. I should’ve told him we’d just telepathically communicated. I should’ve shouted something like “Yeah!”. I should’ve turned around, and smiled at him.

How can a body disappear from earth without a trace?

Why do my friends never dream about me?

How do I make my friends dream about my face?

What happens, if a body disappears from earth completely, and the only thing that was left was a blonde piece of hair?

I’ve read a story about a girl that was murdered by a serial killer. The only place were the detectives have found foreign DNA on her body, was underneath her fingernails. That’s how the killer was identified, and eventually arrested. I’d just cut my fingernails. I can’t stand the feeling of having long fingernails. My therapist tells me to do push-ups when I feel like my emotions get too strong. Breathe in, breathe out. She tells me that some physical pain, is in fact good pain. 1, 2, 3.

Translucent Frogs

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:24:14 UTC

#Bodily#EmbodiedExperience#Sensory#Sensual

Translucent Frogs

I had a dream about translucent frogs trying to find a way to enter my brain. They climbed onto my face, and their shiny bodies left a slimy trail on my skin. One of them took my eyeball, and removed it. My eyeball got thrown off a bridge surrounded by blue skies and magical seas; it felt like I saw the essence of the universe for a split second. The frogs entered my head through the newly created hole in my face, and they reached my brain. They laid down in the soft tissue. They slept there in the nighttime. By the time it was morning, all of the frogs were dissolved. I found my eyeball while swimming in the sea, and I placed it back into the empty hole. I could see the stars moving through time above the water. I could see small sea creatures eating pieces of bright green seaweed. I could see shiny bodies with big, Italian bellies sunbathing on the rocks by the water. I saw an oiled up man searching for a translucent frog between the wet rocks, and eating it. His pupils dilated; he removed his left eyeball, and threw it far into the sparkling ocean.

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:25:52 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:27:21 UTC

M(I/A)CROS

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:28:36 UTC

I've been collecting things/materials from the NORTH SEA -

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:32:01 UTC

#NorthSea#SeaLive#CuttlefishBones#SharkEggs#Snails#Seaweed

I found cuttlefish bones, shark eggs, stingray eggs, seaweed, sea snail eggs, and other small items

PATAPHYSICS!

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:42:19 UTC

#Pataphysicsr#AlfredJarry

the branch of philosophy that deals with an imaginary realm additional to metaphysics.

Atomen zijn Ruimteschepen

lvveloo — 2023-01-24 13:45:14 UTC

#HarrieWeggelaar

The philosphy of a dutch guy called Harrie Weggelaar. He (seriously) believes our atoms are small spaceships with microcreatures inside of them

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 09:40:42 UTC

#Crystal#Crystallography

Tild Greene

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 09:55:09 UTC

#TildGreene#Sensebility#Material

They are an artist in residency at The Ateliers in Amsterdam; I'm incredibly inspired by their sensibility for material

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 09:55:46 UTC

#TildGreene#Yogamats#Kombucha

Yogamats made from homegrown kombucha

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 09:58:09 UTC

Rings engraved in cuttlefish bone - this heavily inspired me to collect the cuttlefish bones at the North Sea myself! I love the use of material

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:05:30 UTC

salmon skin suit

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:06:26 UTC

#NorthSea

Cuttle fish bones displayed on foam

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:10:06 UTC

#Sea#CuttleFishBones#Foam

Sea snail eggs and small things

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:11:48 UTC

#SeaSnailEggs#Eggs

Machine fetish text - totally not not not not ready yet! I got some feedback from my writing teacher so I need to edit - perhaps make it a longer text (not very happy with it)

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:19:43 UTC

#MachineRelation#Body#Vibration#NonHumanEntanglemengt#Fetish

The first time that I saw the machine, was last fall when I took the train to Amsterdam. It stood in a construction site, next to train station. It was incredibly big; I was instantly mesmerized by its size. The machine was smooth, the gears were turning and the sounds were overpowering. It took me a while before I got the courage to get closer to the machine; I didn’t want people to get suspicious of me. I secretly studied the surroundings of the construction site in my free time. There were multiple cameras located on the construction site. During the daytime, there were workers with neon orange vests operating the machine. I calculated the areas that weren’t monitored by the cameras. I couldn’t resist the urge to get closer to the machine; there was no other way. I couldn’t stop myself. The sounds that the machine produced were vibrating through my entire body; it felt better than anything I’d ever felt. My skin felt electric; the vibrations were like tiny little electric shocks on my skin. It felt so good. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about that feeling.

I started sitting on a bench at the train station, opposite of the construction site, to watch the machine during the day. I calculated the times when the workers would operate the machine. It varied, but the machine was mostly used during the mornings between 7:00AM and 11:00AM. Whenever I saw a worker entering the operating chamber of the machine to turn it on, I could feel the vibrations from the bench on which I was sitting on. My body turned warm. I could feel every vibration on my skin. It was irresistible.

I imagined how the smooth metal on the outside of the machine must feel against my body. The surface of the metal was incredibly shiny, it almost looked like liquid. I imagined it to be cold on the outside. I wanted to push my naked body against the smooth metal. I wanted to be as close as possible.

After a few weeks, I couldn’t keep watching the machine from the bench anymore. I had to get closer. The vibrations were stronger if you stood closer to the building ground. The following days I watched the machine through the fence that was surrounding the building site, outside of the view of the security cameras. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about operating the machine myself. I wanted to sit in the operating chair, and I wanted to feel the soft leather against my bare skin.

After those few days, I finally did it. That day, I arrived at the construction site at approximately 3:30AM. I moved the fence a little bit, and I broke into the construction site. The wind was cold, but I’ve never felt warmer in my life than on that particular night. I made sure to only walk on the areas that weren’t filmed by the security cameras. Magically, I figured out that there was a way to walk to the machine without being seen. I took off all my clothes, and I walked towards the machine.

I stood opposite of the machine for a few minutes. I couldn’t believe it. I’d never expected to come this far. The cold wind was blowing against my face. That moment felt like the beginning of a new lifetime. I felt like a mechanical baby, watching the stars, ready to be programmed. I felt like a clean slate, like I’d just been born.

I took a few steps closer to the machine, and I reached out my hand to the smooth, bright yellow, metal. My fingers touched it. It felt surreal; it felt magical. I pushed my hand against the metal.

A Sweaty Dog Entered The Room

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:37:51 UTC

A sweaty dog entered the room with an unidentifiable object on her nose. She looked at the white cup that was standing on the table next to her. But instead of seeing the white cup, she saw the universe unfold in a thousand mirrors, reflecting the sun and its eternal sunrays. Her owner sat on the couch crying. She didn’t understand why the leaves of the houseplants appeared to be green to her eyes.

A sweaty dog entered the room with a pearl balanced on the tip of her nose. She smelled the sea in different rooms throughout the house. She saw mirrors, reflecting the sun and it’s eternal sunrays. My friend told me that he was searching for a passing comet in the sky last weekend; he unexpectedly saw a meteor instead. He couldn’t believe what he saw. The sweaty dog’s owner loved him. She was secretly beginning to like him a little bit.

A sweaty dog doesn’t seem to mind staring into the distance. The couch caught on fire, then, eventually, the entire house burned down. The fire had started where they always used to sit; day and night. The movies they watched on the couch would be forever imprinted on its fabric. The three of us couldn’t fathom it. Me, the sweaty dog, and the owner. We all didn’t know how to continue from this point in our lives.

“The cup on the table was filled with sweat.” At first I didn’t know what she meant. I looked at the white cup on the table next to me. However, I didn’t see the cup. I saw the universe unfold in a thousand mirrors, reflecting the sun and its eternal sunrays. I always seem to chase the sun. It’s always too far away. It’s never too close. The sweaty dog sat on the couch crying. I didn’t know what to do. I sat next to her, and I comforted her. I didn’t understand why the leaves of my houseplants seemed to appear green to my eyes.

The owner entered the room with a pearl balanced on the tip of her nose. I took the pearl from her nose with the tips of my fingers. We stared into each other’s eyes. We both sat down on the couch, and we continued crying. She discovered a bag of seaweed underneath one of the cushions of the couch. She opened the bag, and the entire room started to smell like seawater. “The cup was filled with sweat.”, she said.

From that point on, I didn’t seem to notice the passing of time anymore. My sweaty dog told me last night that time wasn’t a necessary part of life, while I was crying on the couch. “Would people be fake too, then?” She didn’t answer me. I took a pack of gum from the inside of my pocket; the taste was minty, and it was rushing through my nose. It covered up the smell of the seawater. I told my sweaty dog that I was beginning to like my friend a little bit. He was Irish, and he saw a meteor in the sky last week.

“When I began to live here, I didn’t know that a bag of seaweed was located underneath one of the cushions of the couch. I didn’t know that the house would eventually burn down. I didn’t know that the cup on the table was filled with sweat, instead of water. I regret moving into this house. I wanted to find happiness; I wanted to feel at peace. Now all the rooms smell like seawater. I can’t get the smell out of my blankets. I can’t get the smell off my food, out of my clothes, out of the plants.”

The plants’ leaves turned yellow. All of them. She was feeling better when she saw that. She saw the universe unfolding in a thousand mirrors in front of her, reflecting the skin of her body. The three of us looked at the burned down house in front of us. We couldn’t fathom it. We didn’t know how to continue from this point in our lives.

In the end, we found what it took to be connected to each other. Maybe it was the color yellow. Maybe it were the endless reflections. Maybe it was the burning house. But it didn’t matter, because when we realized that, we realized that we didn’t need a home anymore. The sweaty dog took the strands of seaweed out of the bag. She emptied the cup. The cup was filled with tears. We cleaned the tears off of each other’s cheeks. Our skins looked shiny, and bright. We continued to chase the sun. It always seemed too far away, and never too close.

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:50:29 UTC

story written in June 2022

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 10:59:42 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 11:00:56 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 11:03:24 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-01-25 11:05:45 UTC

#Seaweed

lvveloo — 2023-01-26 16:03:55 UTC

Stills from "The adventures of Priscilla, queen of the desert" (1994)

lvveloo — 2023-01-26 16:08:23 UTC

#TheAdventuresOfPriscilla#QueenOfTheDesert#1994

lvveloo — 2023-01-26 16:09:19 UTC

The plot follows two drag queens, played by Hugo Weaving and Guy Pearce, and a transgender woman, played by Terence Stamp, as they journey across the Australian Outback from Sydney to Alice Springs in a tour bus that they have named "Priscilla", along the way encountering various groups and individuals. The film's title references the slang term "queen" for a drag queen or female impersonator.

Timothy Morton

lvveloo — 2023-01-28 21:30:32 UTC

#TimothyMorton#Hyperobjects

Mountain

Silex — 2023-01-30 11:29:29 UTC

Silex — 2023-01-30 11:32:49 UTC

#ObjetPetitA#Lacan#Desire

Silex — 2023-01-30 11:51:11 UTC

#BrunoLatour#Actants#ANT#ActorNetworkTheory

Silex — 2023-01-30 12:33:45 UTC

#AmbassadeVanDeNoordzee#NorthSea

Silex — 2023-01-30 12:36:27 UTC

#Hypersea

Silex — 2023-01-30 12:38:30 UTC

#DianaMcMenamin#MarkMcMenamin#Hypersea

Silex — 2023-01-30 12:39:26 UTC

#ElspethProbyn#EatingTheOcean

Silex — 2023-01-30 13:11:30 UTC

#StacyAlaimo#Body#BodilyNatures

Silex — 2023-01-30 13:16:30 UTC

#JaneBennett#VibrantMatter#APoliticalEcologyOfThings

"My ‘own’ body is material, and yet this vital materiality is not fully or exclusively

human. My flesh is populated and constituted by different swarms of foreigners…

The bacteria in the human microbiome collectively possess at least 100 times as

many genes as the mere 20,000 or so in the human genome… we are, rather, an

array of bodies, many different kinds of them in a nested set of microbiomes.’

- Quote Bennett

Silex — 2023-01-31 15:41:16 UTC

#Wedlich#Slime#Water

Silex — 2023-01-31 15:44:56 UTC

#Wedlich#Slime#SlimeANaturalHistory

Silex — 2023-01-31 15:47:57 UTC

#LynnMargulis#Symbiosis

Silex — 2023-01-31 15:49:15 UTC

#EglėBudvytytė#SpeculativeFiction#Symbiosis

Silex — 2023-01-31 15:58:14 UTC

#HermanDeVries

Silex — 2023-02-01 12:48:37 UTC

#AldoLeopold#ThinkingLikeAMountain

Silex — 2023-02-01 12:50:14 UTC

#AldoLeopold#ThinkingLikeAMountain

Kagemusha 1980, movie scene "Dream"

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 12:59:22 UTC

Miek Zwamborn - Wieren (boek)

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:03:05 UTC

http://miekzwamborn.nl/wieren-3/

Femke Herregraven - "Diving Reflex" 2019

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:09:24 UTC

" According to this aquatic ape hypothesis, the “diving reflex” created a neurological connection between the throat, mouth, and brain. This allowed people to hum/sing, and eventually develop speech. "
Science Fiction story about how humans learned how to sing (then speak, language; strottenhoofd) because of a water monkey hypothesis

http://femkeherregraven.net/diving-reflex/

Is there a potential Hypersea in the world of machines?

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:17:17 UTC

Oil, vibrations, liquids - Pataphysical hypothesis?

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:20:29 UTC

Sculpting Cuttlefish bones

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:27:15 UTC

Revealing the layers of the growth of the bone (reflecting time, cuttlefish), 90% calcium carbonate - chalk
Landscape, mountain, carving
looks like 3d printing - reverse 3d printing in the body of the cuttlefish
bones hypersea

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:29:40 UTC

Banner process video

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:34:57 UTC

Process video of my new banner (6 - 2 - 2023)
also using sweaty dog text

Sculpting - fabric, layers, glue, soil , acrylics, metal parts, contrast, landscape

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:37:44 UTC

Taking A Flight

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:45:14 UTC

Small - Postcard sized drawing with coloured pencil

drawings of jellyfish by Ernst Haeckel

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 13:58:42 UTC

I found a bone at the North Sea

lvveloo — 2023-02-07 14:19:05 UTC

unidentifiable (for now) creature
probably part of the lower body - probably pelvis bone
probably less than 100 years old; I kept the bone in my pocket for a few days, and the dark colour rubbed a bit off; appearantly sign of age

How do you become a mountain? Personification of a mountain - your body as a mountain. A result of tectonic tension from deep down earth, rivers flow over your body down to the sea. Where does your body end? When does your body move? Thousands of years go by in seconds.

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:05:31 UTC

The Mountain and the River. How do they relate to each other? Who carries who? The river breaks the mountain down, the mountain let's the river flow.

Podcast about Medieval Robots!

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:22:36 UTC

https://newbooksnetwork.com/e-r-truitt-medieval-robots-mechanism-magic-nature-and-art-u-of-pennsylvania-press-2015

automaton - writing robot - creepy as hell

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:26:50 UTC

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maillardet%27s_automaton

The Mushroom At The End Of The World - Anna Tsing

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:29:59 UTC

connecting to hypersea funghi hypothesis - life in capitalist ruins of the world

Jean-Pierre Brisset's theory that humans evolved from frogs - pataphysics

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:35:49 UTC

https://www.westdenhaag.nl/thuistezien/155

Deep Listening

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:38:23 UTC

Pauline Oliveros

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:40:22 UTC

"Take a walk at night. Walk so silently, that the bottom of your feet become ears."

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:43:18 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:46:43 UTC

bought this publication in October 2022

scene from The Holy Mountain

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:53:33 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:55:27 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-02-08 21:57:14 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-02-09 08:46:36 UTC

Maaijke Middelbeek "THROUGH OOZE and SLIME"

lvveloo — 2023-02-09 08:48:35 UTC

Maaijke Middelbeek - Reactive Funghi wearable

lvveloo — 2023-02-09 08:51:10 UTC

Myclelium growing on cardboard

lvveloo — 2023-02-09 08:52:10 UTC

Growing seaweed from the North Sea

lvveloo — 2023-02-09 08:53:11 UTC

"What is it like to be a mushroom, to see without eyes, or to be a bacterium in our nostrills or gut?" also by Maaijke Middelbeek

lvveloo — 2023-02-09 08:54:41 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-02-13 11:06:30 UTC

Follow the two objects 127109 & 127110 during a yearlong journey floating towards each other in the North Atlantic Ocean. What are the odds two things will meet in the middle of this 76.762.000 km² territory? Zero. Or many not? This question was reason for artist Lotte Geeven to put things to the test.

carving in cuttlefish bones

lvveloo — 2023-02-14 12:27:03 UTC

layers of clacium, growth pattern

texture research close-up

lvveloo — 2023-02-14 12:28:08 UTC

texture research

lvveloo — 2023-02-14 12:28:42 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 16:48:42 UTC

big archive of artist books

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 16:51:29 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 16:55:58 UTC

"Library of the printed web"

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 16:57:16 UTC

POST DIGITAL PRINT - the mutation of publishing since 1894

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 16:59:26 UTC

Conspicuous Consumption

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:01:33 UTC

The New Art of Making Books

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:02:31 UTC

Publishing as Artistic Pratice (need to find PDF)

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:03:53 UTC

Artist Book big archive

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:05:06 UTC

Vibeke Mascini

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:06:38 UTC

David Horvitz

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:07:41 UTC

The Distance Of A Day

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:09:55 UTC

The Distance of a Day (2013) is composed of two phones, placed side by side, playing video recordings of a sunset and a sunrise. The title of the installation is inspired by the word 'journey' which once referred to distances travelled in one day (from Middle English journee– “a day's travel”).

Mood Disorder documents the propagation of a photograph of David Horvitz across the internet. The image—a self portrait of the artist with his head in his hands, ocean waves crashing in the background—was initially uploaded to the Wikimedia Commons, and placed on various Wikipedia pages.

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:11:13 UTC

How to Shoplift Books

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:12:25 UTC

lvveloo — 2023-05-20 17:14:29 UTC

Public Access is an art project produced by David Horvitz in late December 2010 and early January 2011. For roughly two weeks, he drove along California's coast from the Mexican border up through the Oregon border. Along the way, he stopped and took pictures of himself looking out at the beach and other scenic vantage points, his stance recalling the iconic romantic painting "Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog" by Caspar David Friedrich from 1818 and Bas Jan Ader's 1971 "Farewell to Faraway Friends." He then uploaded these photographs to the Wikipedia entries for these locations, adding new images or replacing existent images. This action produced a flurry of discussion amongst the Wikipedia community, as its members tried to figure out his identity and the purpose of the photos. Many of the original photos were cropped or deleted entirely. Graphic designer Eric Nylund designed the publication, which includes a text written by Ed Steck. This was made for the exhibition "As Yet Untitled: Artists and Writers in Collaboration" at SF Camerawork in San Francisco.

Text for PAS Berlin ZINE

lvveloo — 2023-06-21 07:46:59 UTC

I’m Dreaming of a Space, a Time, a Body, a Train, an Arrival, a Settlement, a Department

A nervous body was centered in between non-nervous bodies. The space seemed unfamiliar. The windows seemed big; the light seemed brighter than ever. The reflection of water was dancing on the white walls. The walls seemed to accept them; they accepted and embraced the traces of the previous bodies that have entered the same space. Every facial movement was analyzed, every non-verbal interacted was analyzed in a million different ways. Every verbal interaction was analyzed in a million different ways, too. It takes time to change the mental landscape that exists in a physical space. It takes time to trust people, to feel accepted and to feel equal to others. It takes time to realize that nervous bodies and non-nervous bodies don’t differ that much, or don’t differ, in fact, at all. It only takes a week to be able to close your eyes, and imagine exactly how a physical space looked and felt.

I often have dreams of traveling with a bus to Berlin. In these dreams I am extremely unprepared; I wouldn’t have a place to sleep, or the bus ride never stops. The bus doesn’t come, the bus keeps coming, the ride never stops, or there is no clear space to settle. I’m never here of there, the train is packed, changes into a bus, time blends into space, and the train stops in a small village close to the border of Germany. I only remembered having these dreams when I arrived back in Groningen, after being in Berlin for a week. I was wondering if this trip could have cured my confused travelling dreams. I realized last night that it didn’t, and I caught a train again in a small German village, dreaming of reaching Berlin one day.

Text for PAS Berlin ZINE

lvveloo — 2023-06-21 07:52:42 UTC

Chickpea Shaped Tears

A man consumed a home cooked egg on the Flixbus from Berlin to Hamburg; he brought the egg with him in a blue, see-through Tupperware box, made out of plastic. This egg contained a special piece of wisdom, the ability to connect to a human being, and a magical chickpea that was given to him by an unknown force. He thought that nobody had seem him consume the egg. He didn’t know that I had seen him. I knew. A factory site appears in the distance. The sun is shining bright on the grey buildings. The sun is also shining bright on our faces. Our skins feel the same warmth, our lungs breathe the same air; perhaps, our souls long for the same thing. A human’s greatest desire, is human connection. At least, that is what I believe.

After he had consumed the egg, his eyes closed, and his muscles relaxed. He must have been traveling for a long time; to enter a bus, so well prepared. We passed the factory site. Then, a windmill park. After that, the sea. Then, slightly curved hills, a forest with dark green pine trees, a magical sunset, a longing for eternal movement, a gas station, an unfulfilled wish, a public toilet, a city, a chicken farm, and a field of yellow flowers.

I couldn’t believe he had consumed the egg. I couldn’t believe I didn’t stop him. I couldn’t believe I was too late. I couldn’t believe he took my last chance. The chance to feel the warmth of a human being. The chance to feel connected.

I tried to telepathically convince him to transfer the special piece of wisdom, the ability to connect to a human being, and the magical chickpea to me in a dream. But nothing happened. The contents of the hardboiled egg were forever lost. I closed my eyes, and chickpea shaped tears streamed down my cheeks. Then, I unexpectedly felt a soft tap on my shoulder. The man who had consumed the egg stared into my eyes. He handed me a small blue box containing a hardboiled egg, and then returned to his seat. I never considered the possibility of the existence of multiple eggs. From that moment on, I realized I wasn’t alone. I realized what it meant to believe, to connect and to share. I knew what it meant to cry chickpea shaped tears. I knew what it was like to feel a human connection; to feel the warmth of one’s soul.

Thesis Talk Hille, October 2024

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:08:19 UTC

Dag Nina,

Een van de dingen die terugkomt is verlangen, maar ook verlangen naar iets onbereikbaars. Misschien verlangen naar het andere. Zoals een spoor van paard (was een paard het geloof ik?) in permafrost in Siberië. Lees artikel Post 1, deze vindt je vast interessant in deze context. Verlangen naar het onmogelijke.

Je doet ook onderzoek naar schrijven, wat een zin kan zijn bijvoorbeeld. Daarnaast wil je ook nadenken over de vorm van het boek. We hadden het er ook over of de reflectieteksten mogelijk onderdeel van het boek kunnen zijn. We zaten daarnaast te denken aan nog een keukenboek met de ingrediënten die de basis vormen voor je eten/verhalen. Je kunt de verhalen zelf verbinden aam de woorden recept 1, recept 2, enzovoort. Dat leek jou een goed idee.

Mogelijk kunnen we denken aan een combinatie. De reflectieteksten zouden onderdeel van het boek met verhalen kunnen zijn, terwijl het keukenboek met verzameling bronnen een apart boek kan zijn. In de reflectie-verslagen kunnen reflecties op de teksten zitten en in het keukenboek de ingrediënten en kennis voor je teksten, zoals info over het weekdier, mogelijk artikelen die je hebt gebruikt, dingen die je daarin hebt onderstreept. Of aantekeningen wat je interessant vindt aan het weekdier, het keukenboek is de achtergrond waaruit je hebt gevist voor je verhalen. In de reflectieverslagen kun je ingaan op het schrijven. Wat je hebt bijvoorbeeld uitgeprobeerd hebt met de zin, waar je tekst cultureel naar kan verwijzen, wat de teksten mogelijk met elkaar gemeen hebben. De reflectieverslagen zijn analytischer en reflectiever van aard ten opzichte van de verhalen.

We kunnen plannen maken met teksten? Wil je alle teksten in een boek of verschillende boeken? En we kunnen voor elke tekst een reflectieverslag (reflectieverslag 1 die bij verhaal 1 hoort) doen en tegelijk de achtergrond info waaruit je vist in het keukenboek doen (recept1).

Het weekdier vind ik een mooi voorbeeld. Het is heel interessant wat je al weet over het dier. Daar heb je blijkbaar al onderzoek naar gedaan. Het idee dat het zacht is en dat het huisje door andere worden gebruikt. In een reflectieverslag kun je met iemand op het verhaal reflecteren. Wat de tekst oproept bijvoorbeeld. Wat de metaforen mogelijk zeggen. Welke bronnen je mogelijk hebt gebruikt en hoe die je hebben geïnspireerd voor het verhaal. Zo is het weekdier een mooi voorbeeld van connectie, kwetsbaarheid, kracht. Het laat je nadenken over je eigen maatschappij, waarin we moeite hebben een schelp/huis te delen, het laat je nadenken over kinship, dat de schelp van iedereen is. Ook vond ik het verband interessant dat je legde met de grafsteen in jouw voorouderlijke dorp. Hoe de steen zorgt voor een afbraak van het lichaam en ook weer daar kunnen worden begaven. Mogelijk kun we in de reflectieverslagen veel schrijven over deze verbanden en wat die verbanden mogelijk zeggen. In het keukenboek kan bijvoorbeeld een wetenschappelijk artikel over dat grafsteen, een foto van de steen, mogelijk een verslag van historicus over deze steen. Ik kan je trouwens ook dit boek aanraden: https://www.bol.com/nl/nl/f/ways-of-being-alive/9300000040164662/

Mogelijk sta je in de traditie van speculatieve fiction of speculatieve confubalation (fabulering) zoals beschreven door Donna Haraway. Het creëren van mogelijke werelden, of al bestaande werelden maar dan bekeken vanuit een niet-menselijk perspectief waardoor we nieuwe werkelijkheden ervaren die ons doet reflecteren op bestande werkelijkheid. Mogelijk dat je verhoudt tot dit genre, zie boek.

Nog een suggestie: You could incorporate endnotes into your script. These will allow you to contextualize the elements you discuss. You can find a helpful example here. In each endnote, include the title of the source and the author, along with a brief explanation of how the content relates to your script. I've added some sources in your Silex that may be interesting for your research.

Post 1

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:10:02 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:10:38 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:11:33 UTC

Speculative confabulation (fiction)

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:12:19 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:13:20 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:14:00 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:14:36 UTC

The Camille Stories - Staying with the Trouble - Donna Haraway - Short film sum-up Documentary

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:15:12 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:15:49 UTC

In bieb:

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:16:18 UTC

Silex — 2024-10-20 09:17:22 UTC

2024-11-13 21:06:42 UTC

Hi Hille! Dankjewel voor alle bronnen!

Dit is een interessant boek! Ik voel me niet zozeer aangetrokken tot de speculative finance kant, maar wel speculative fiction en speculative philosophy.

Ik heb afgelopen week de volgende artikelen geprint om te lezen voor mijn onderzoek:

p.189 "Life After Man (1981)" by Dougal Dixon

p.215 "Train Dreams (2018)" by Can Xue

p. 22 "Defining Speculation:... (2019) by Steven Shaviro

p. 47 "Contemporary Art is Post-Conceptual Art (2010)" by Peter Osborne

Presentation Nina

Silex — 2025-01-15 08:11:49 UTC

The end of it

Silex — 2025-01-15 08:12:25 UTC

Saito

Silex — 2025-03-12 09:34:31 UTC