notinyangon

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Bomb colors and beamed faces. "Hey, mista' "

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Barbers and newspapers. #My life is chronic but I am anachronistic.

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Under a sunset light, in Gili Meno, Gili island. Heavy orange. Addictive.

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Sountrack: 'Please Don't laugh at my tears, daddy. ' ' Oh my god, omg, it's a double pineapple.' ' Wet baby, dry fish.' 'Behind the rag, my wife.' 'Hanging bananas and clothes.' ...

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On my night discontinuities with their dotted lights.//

Focus was rippling with the winds, like him. He was already fading in the irony of a scheme. He blurred the lines\\ In a jungle way\\

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Smiles hanging along the road. Take 'em all.

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'Le chemin amer.' Something dramatic with those bent silhouettes crossing giant flat areas. Loneliness with Flatness is a depressive duo. 

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He came with this absence in the face and skylined eyes. With an imprint from asphalt and from the concrete seventies.  He had both a poetry of huge volumes and maximal density.  He rode with devolution and met by accident. 

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Harmony of missing faces, sucker ants, and reflected satellite dishes. Something here seems wrong. 

 Ants // Industrialisation of sugar licking.

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'Beach children' at Kuta, Lombok,... or how you will end with a arm covered with woven bracelet. Never forget to bring paper and pens in your luggage for kids. -or Ableton, as the boy above. // Drawy afternoons // -Videos and drawings coming soon-

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The king of fruits, Mr. Pineapple, at dark, being cut without delicacy. Sweet and sour, delicate inside, sharp outside, with rose thorns and a leaf crown, it's my pimp.

'True' pineapples at the market, and true starry skies everywhere @ Pulau Nias.

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He smoked as he talked. Huge puffs, mat voice, and warm fog covering softly the audience.  Sometimes an anxiety -of not being involving enough- was curling on his face.

He was a sweet deep gambler and I was a fast believer.

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A blue house hang on the shoreline. With slim corridors leading to floating people. Those for which the verb 'be' is a bourgeois concept.

Jules & Gillia, f***ing tangling. A logic of sense and of nonsense. Tangled Up in Blue

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On the emptiness aestheticism, on the poetry of decrepitude.

World is precisely out of this place.

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Visit at Lahusa schools. (SMP Negeri 1 Lahusa and Fajarmas fundation) in Pulau Nias, Sumatra.

// Potentialities in the dark room. // Inside the cage, knowledge and freedom.

'It's just another hole in the cage.' -Interviews, chorals, and videos coming soon.- Thanks to Herykus, Agusman, but also Vivian, Eric, Wao, Yayasan, Obaja, and everyone for the warm welcome.

[notinyangon]

Deep into the Indonesian cliché. Millions of palm trees, wet rice fields, infinite beaches, and all that vast nature orgy. Let's join.