i hate hackney!

Calcutta, London, Paris, Poland as in Country of Poles.

Well this has been an exhausting  marathon, not mentioning never arriving in France due to weather conditions.

The latter caused not one ass freeze, as well as pain in commuters back side. Never in my life did i feel so vulnerable to external conditions as in London, especially Hackney. Walking back home for miles and miles in heavy rain or snow is no new for me. Why is that?one might ask. Hello, Hackney! Land of no tube and retarded trains, congested buses and taxi desert.

Walking back home yesterday, listening to water bubbling in my shoes i bumped into my friends, modestly tiptoeing in a greasy snow. IHATEHACKNEY! ^%^$%#$@

Sorry Fellas, hope you will still say hi to me on the street.

seized away

Roger Hiorns 'Seizure' led them straight to elephant and castle roundabout, a bizarre whirlpool of cultures, flavours and plastic elephants... apparently being transformed into something more representable (sic!) e&c got rid of huge ecclectic social realism-like council buildings and surrendered to get a facelift.

'Seizure' is a project nominated for the Turner Prize 2009. Shortly speaking the artist transformed a council flat into a crystal cave. yay! exciting? playing with an urban space in this way is a sheer fiction. this conceptual instalation involved some serious wildlife chemical processes (crystal caves in Mexico) bringing them into the centre of the city, mostly busy with photosynthesis or respiration. of course the process was artificially generated by the artist, but this is a part of the game metropolis and man play.

Interested in New Brutalism, architecture and urban theory, did Hiorn choose his building - destined for future demolition, 1960s block on Harper Road. The Brutalist architecture taking from LeCorbusier comes close to Social Realism, theory that was a 'hit' in former communist block in Eastern Europe. Designed to contain as many people as possible in the similar small spaces the buildings were to create the spirit of collective driven by the same thoughts and ideas.
The difference is one but vast : in communistic Social Realism this kind of ideology was strongly political and manipulative, whereas western world saw it as a social project connected with social movements 0f 60s and 70s. Freezing the interior with a copper sulphate and turning it into a dream blue crystal cave did Hiorns preserve the idea, however informing the viewer what he thinks of it....dreamy, like a crystal palace and unicorns.

and for the first time did she realise:' heey, i am a genius'

Topolski Century is a small under-the-brige-like gallery at Southbank. Feliks Topolski is the god of this small temple. Coming inside one feels like being inside the chap's head (the work is the author's memoir): expressionist paintings, surreal visions, vivid colours contrast the dark corners and that all forms a cerebral labyrinth. As a traveller, political commentator and reporter-draughtsman Topolski combined the historical/objective facts with his memory/subjective medium. In fact memory works really close with imagination. The visions then carry the onirical heaviness and randomness.

As a draughtsman Topolski would never go out without his sketchbook and pencil set.

This ended up with never ending piles of drawings, published later in a form of chronicle.

There were plenty reasons to draw everyday: cultural revolution in China, equality rights movements in America, independence of India, communist Warsaw, revolution of counter-culture. After Second World War was Topolski the one to document with his pencil a Nuremberg Trial.

Topolski was an eccentric persona (he painted himself in his Memoir as a lively gentlemen making out with two prostitutes) and his vast autobiography reveals his opinions, passions and quirkiness. The gallery is no longer a damp ( in order to preserve the artwork). Check up yourself, it is just 2 pounds to enter (1 concession, free on Mondays).

And hey, if you wanna find out how incredibly talented you are come for the life drawing workshops. It is a three hours session every Tuesday or Wednesday, just book the date - education@topolskicentury.org.uk.

flaneuse on the verge of urban breakdown

after one post and three days of hangovered staring into the colour interface I hit the bottom.

this project must hit off, otherwise I shall be cursed by Charles, the evil flowers lover.

anyways. as a "a person who walks the city in order to experience it" I therefore did some walking again. it just comes back once one started, it has been implanted into the neuro system. it is the closest to the concrete ecto-earth-derm, goes with the palpable ambient beat of the compressed air. 

besides with a support of one experienced party girl and other experienced party girl (that is how they appear in my Jung-dream experience-daydreaming) I decided to give myself a solid kick and start things over.

saturdays route:

tower bridge-whitechapel high street-bricklane-columbia road-BROADWAY MARKET-vallance road- whitechapel hs-tower bridge

markets. must-do on the list of possibly every tourist visiting London. Portobello Market, Borough Market,  Bricklane not even mentioning the hippy-go-dreadful Camden are the mecca of tourist pilgrimage. dazed by the fumes of horsecrap incense and eco-marketing individuals become a thick crowd, first enemy of a flaneur motion-wisely. mediocre experience experience-wisely. plus one gets to cling to their belongings like o throat phlegm to... a throat. just in case.

markets are fabulous, forgive my expression, ideologically. lost to a tourist plague are off the way of the locals. 

as opposite to global local is very a la mode nowadays. in pursue of the recent trends, I set my foot on Broadway Market (with its genuine admirer Vero-as in my friend-Vero). rural relic in the middle of urban altar. colours, passion, beautiful healthy people, pink babies, laces and food samples (Marta-wise). and everything crowd free.

all the blase attitude denied having ever existed. everything from the bookshops to welcome-to-a-vegetarian-nightmare meat pie shop has formed an exclusive cosmos in the middle of a famous hackney. 

go there to: change your wardrobe for people's crazy old clothes, buy a random magazine from netherlands on dwarf architecture, to try free food samples, enjoy strangers closeness, try all different types of cheesecakes and brownies, stroll joyously thoughtlessly.

Something to read: Georg Simmel The Metropolis and Mental life

and she kept braiding her strawy hair

metropolis is a happening.
its time and space are an elastic net that sucks in the kinetic and static energy of its inhabitants, bouncing then all into a transic daydreaming.
constant be-ing.
should one raise against metropolis it spits them out straight into existence of de-orbited electron - urban exile of madness and limp ambition.
metropolis is a worship temple of human, inhuman and dehuman kind. its metastructure becomes more than ever planned: created by man - creates a man. being all laic gains divine power.

opensailing.net/blog
we may need to abandon metropolis one day

said flaneuse playing with the edge of her skirt