My grandmother says, Das Militär steckt in unserem Blut. My grandmother says, The military runs in our family. What is lost in translation is the word steckt. Hides, is stuck, is plugged. Somehow the military exists in our blood, lingering. The verb steckt suggests something active, positive or negative, but a presence nonetheless.
Recently I’ve taken an interest in some of my neighbors in Pankow, the flying sort. It’s a relationship of some distance, me on my balcony, them in the clouds… so I decided to document them in drawing to make up for the space.
I. In Argentina, where it all started, the green handkerchief can be found everywhere these days; tied to the necks and the wrists of women and men, as part of their hairstyle, hanging from purses, bags and backpacks, on bikes, cars, strollers, and even tied to pets and around trees. It is also painted on
It was perhaps the universality of themes and experiences in Parasite that resonated with audiences of many languages and cultures, leading the film to win the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and Best Picture at the Academy Awards. That Parasite would win the Palme d’Or was an expectation of many. The Oscar, however, was unprecedented and therefore unexpected, at least in the beginning.
And indeed, I have noticed a biological metamorphosis; change my class to Reptilia, my superorder to Lepidosauria and so forth because washing has made my hands so damn dry. You become a reptile and the numbers start sounding reasonable and holy and something to worship. By the next day they mean nothing and we praise anew.
These actions mark a critical and pivotal moment in the story of Western democracy, specifically in the interconnected world of the 21st century. Never before has my generation—a generation that has grown up in the so-called globalized world of “time and space compression” in which everything has become within our grasp—faced a situation where our individual liberties were curtailed for the good of the many.
I walked in on the dog in my room staring at himself in the mirror. His nose was right on the surface and he was just staring and doing nothing else. When he heard me come in the room, he looked around, appeared to be embarrassed, as did I.
Lecce is a walled baroque city in the bootheel of Italy. I’ve decided to stay here alone for three weeks of break before returning to school. My travels and daily ambulation are for the high purpose of reading, writing, and drawing all that is around and within me, which, if I meditate enough, will be nothing. I write to stop writing.