I do believe that between us, and between us and other people we have had many discussions about what art is. I may not go as far as saying this is art, but it is alot closer than alot of the crap you see nowadays.

This is a photo I took of a poster on the side of an escalator on the underground.

(Sticker reads “Know Yourself, Be Yourself, Love Yourself, and you will be Loved.”)

Exactly what It says on the tin.

The forgotten

Sometimes it is really strange what your mind does with you:

On Friday night I derigged a show in a hotel in Zürich. When I was back in the warehouse it was 3 o’clock in the morning. And the two guys that run the warehouse were still in there putting things back in the shelves. 38 tons of equipment were used in the show we did last week. And they had to clean up the stuff alone and trough the night. When I asked why they were still there and alone, they said, nobody would help them and the boss isn’t interested in how things get done as long as they get done. The guy said they found a word for this: The forgotten.

Somehow this phrase got stuck in the back of my head. Yesterday I was on a shopping trip for some things I need here in my flat. And when I drove by small family the phrase suddenly popped up in my head again. The daughter of the couple must have been about 16 or 17 years old and she wasn’t the slimmest person I ever saw. And she gave away this impression of someone with a bit low self esteem that a lot of corpulent people have. It was only a second I really noticed this group and especially this girl but I thought, there are a lot of forgotten people in our society. We tend to categorize and look at people through a filter. People that don’t really meet the current expectations when it comes to body size and shape or the general appearance are often filtered away. And we lose a lot of good things this person might be able to do. Everyone has a certain talent, the challenge is finding it. This is something from “Billy Elliot” and I think it is very true. But even more important is to actually look for it and to give everyone the chance to show us their individual talents. And maybe at some point there won’t be as many forgotten around anymore.

Great thoughts on a Sunday again.

Rigging… and it seems there is no end…

This is what I have been doing since the beginning of this week. Somehow I seem to never leave the venue. Tonight I will have to program the show. At least the technical specs are not bad: 109 dimmer channels, 40 movinglights (old Martin stuff) and 3 (I specified 6 but didn’t get them in the end) Atomics. It came out as a big rig… and all this for only 5 minutes to present a new car. And all this runs off a HOG iPC… which is really crap. I really wonder why and who created this desk… I’ll give you an update at the weekend.

I am going to play with lights now…


Welcome to the new WordPress all, readers and authors alike! We have now made a complete upgrade of the platform and the database to offer more stability and more flexibility as well as better support for plugins, media, XHTML, browsers and other stuff that we had problems with in the previous version.

For the readers, not much should have changed, as we have kept the old appearance and only minor aestethical adjustments have been made.

For the writers, it’s a whole new game. You will find the dashboard completely reworked, and that things have been moved around a bit, but hopefully you will be able to familiarise yourself with it quickly! If not, drop me a note and I’ll throw in a crash course in WP2.0+ while we’re at it!

tHe Prefect

Us and things

The world is always the way we want to see it. This is how I would describe it. There are things we cannot change and there are things we can. But actually we all have to ultimate tool to change everything: Imagination.

It is the key that unlocks every door, the key that gives us the power to do whatever we want and ultimately imagination is what really changes the world in the end. It may well be that two and two will always add up to four. But who says it couldn’t be five? Or twelve? Or maybe … blue? You see, if you want to, you can always believe in something else and there is no real proof that 2 and 2 add up to 4. Why? Because it is only words and numbers, things we as human beings made up long time ago that describes something very abstract. Someone once imagined that one single thing equals the number 1 and the word describing it is called “one”. So here we go. But your imagination can still imagine it to be “blue”… why not? Because who said that “blue” describes a colour…? You see, this is one of the topics I really enjoy talking about. Tearing the system apart and thinking of it from a complete absurd point of view. Turning it upside down. This is what imagination does and this is what gives me my ideas. For everything.

It is important to keep our imagination alive. Because imagination is – as we all know, and I keep saying it over and over again – more important than knowledge… because knowledge is limited.

Enjoy the infinite freedom in your own head! Good night my friends!

Things and us

The things we can change and the things we can not change. That is all the decisions we must make, and wether we decide to try and change the things we can not change or we do change the things we can, we must decide. However, one is not to say it is a waste of time trying to change things we can not change.

You can form, shape and color light as you want. You can point it where you want it to light up and take it away where you want shadow to be. You can alter the appearance of any stage and illuminate or darken any subject as it fits into your imagination. But you can not change light, you can not make it go around a corner or stop at a certain point. But you can control it, make it go on and off when you want. Where you want. The appereance of light, that, you can change.

I can read and write complex code and mathematics, I can put strings together to form a presentation or a program. I can add two and two together and it will always be four. I can not change it. But I can use it to alter how it is seen, structured and executed. I can change the behaviour of a program or the layout of a presentation. I can decide what people will see and read, I can make two become six and four become twelve. I can change it.

You can manipulate words and the meaning of sentences. You can create and structure dialogue, bend it to your will. You can use that talent to talk about the past, to convey history (and stories) as you see fit and how your eyes see it, but you can not change it. You make up your opinion on what the future might hold, you dream, you plan and you imagine what it will be like, tomorrow, next week, next year or in a thousand years from now. And you can change it.

Such are the things and us. We must decide what to change and what not to. Or we must decide what we want to change and what we don’t want to. Neither way is a vaste of time, for such are the things and us.

somewHere far away in a land uP north

Posted in hp

Eyal’s poem, at last.

Below is Eyal’s poem the way he wanted to post it in the first place (I think). And when you get rid of all the silly code and find the time to actually read it, it is a truly beatifull poem worthy his signature. So please, take your time, and read this little gem of litterature that our friend has given us.  

I dreamt last night I was a child again,
But had in my mind the memories of today.
and tried as I might to convey the future,
and screamed as I did for people to listen,

I was only a child, talking of stories.
Albeit articulated well, and spoken true
my warnings fell upon deaf ears,
I failed at my attempt to fix my past.

Stubborn as I am there was no quenching my resolve
I was bound to serve my time locked up
and wasted time ticked slowly on,
as wasted lives were lost.

Only after years of denying my gifts
was I released back into the world,
and while I still had strength of spirit
I made one final journey across the ocean.

I was in New York that Autumn day,
And tried again to help the people,
with future sureties I knew to be true,
But with nothing I could do, the first bird struck,

And it was only after the second hit too,
I realised that in wasting my life a second time,
towards some futile end, Had I forgotten that
Which had made my life worth living, my friends.

And there I stood, forgotten and alone,
in the saddest city of the world that day,
in the shadow of those fated towers
powerless to save but one.

And so I waited for one to rain down
and wash me upon the shores of tomorrow
for only here I belong, in this time of possibility
for it is better to be uncertain amoungst others,
Than the inevitable emptiness of certainty.