These coal-holds are also called porcupines, because of the iron hooks you can see on the roof. In wartime they could hide them by putting camouflage cloths all around them.
Young soldiers, waiting for the enemy to come. One awake and alert, one asleep. You get very tired of fighting wars. Most of the time it is not your war. It reminds me of the child soldiers in Africa. What they experience is too cruel.
But here we have no war and talented artists can spray graffitichildsoldiers on a concrete building that has become an anachronism in the landscape. It is good to be free and create.
The remains of the war. We have a lot of war coal-holds, they form a vertical line and are called ‘ De Nieuwe Hollandse Waterlinie’. In English it will sound like: ‘The New Dutch Waterdefenseline’.
Their purpose was to protect us. One concrete line in the west and the sea in the east. Groups of soldiers could go in, to find shelter. How many ghosts are still seeking rest in these places? There must have been a lot of fear and fright.
Nowadays we may feel ghosts inside but we see phantoms on the outside. They are not scary, even friendly. They also protect. They are like book-ends holding up the word of the artist. The word has nothing to do about war. It has to do about ego. But war has also has to do about ego. A very big global unsatisfying ego, you can also call it lust for power. So they are not that completely different.
But war is destructive and graffiti is creative, so creativity will eat destructivity. So in this case we have a happy ending.
He can see us with his hollow eyes, he can smell us with his hollow nose and he can eat us with his hollow mouth. This graffityzombie sleeps at daytime and awakens when it is dark.
He moves his concrete body, out of the concrete and moves slowly. Greed drives him forward. No greed for power, but greed for flesh. When he encounters danger, he can hide. He just steps in the concrete of a passing building.
When he finds you, you will be missing for ever………
The personality in this story lives in the city. It’s a slimy old sloth, who never agrees with anybody. He is fat, bold (because he wants to) and he is looking around and gives critics to the world nobody is waiting for.
His teeth are strong and he likes to bite. If you don’t agree with him, he dribbles from anger and his face gets orange . When he is alone, he is an coward, but with his friends nothing will stop him. He is infected with the groupvirus Urbanitis infectiosa and he will touch everybody who has a different opinion.
He is the Bad Bad Guy…
The statue is in a big city, but we can not see that anymore. The shadow blinds the eye. Sometimes our eye is open, but we do not see. We lost sight of the really important things in live like family, love and kindness.
Sometimes we do not see because we look to much inwards. Sometimes we do not see because we look to much outward. It’s hard to balance. So many people, so many sights.
Fortunally we have a brain and we can think. We see, we think and we understand.
But if our sight is too much obscured and there is too much shadow before the eye:
Cry out for help, accept alien thoughts and walk out of the shadow!
What do we see of reality? Is it what Plato said: are we sitting in a cave looking at shadows on the wall. The light behind our back and we can not move??
This eye can see, but does it see reality? It is trapped too between the dark. Do we see what we see? Does everybody see the same thing? It is a very important question and maybe there is no answer. I read many books where personalities saw the same thing through different perspectives.
Maybe all together we see the whole thing!
Sometimes you are Lucky. You have a flat tie and you have to wait for half an hour. So what do you do?? You walk your dog. And then you see it. A masterpiece of Urban Art. It is like a marble fallen statue. It’s looking up with empty eyes.
Has there been a war? Is it the end of the Roman empire? Is it the end of humanity? Will it sink into the ground and stay there forever? Will it revive and stand up again? Many questions to many writers. This week it will come closer and closer. Maybe you can tell me the story.
This girl lived a long time ago. Her photograph was used in an album and you see her twice: when you open the book and when you close it. She is not looking into the camera. It is a photograph ‘en profile’.
Her posture is strong. She looks selfconfident. She is young and looks straight in the world. There is nothing to hide. Her hair is like a waterfall, on the top captivated but going down with thunder.
Looking into a future that’s hidden, the past is far behind. Today is consciousness of the photograph that’s about to be. She is strong now, but will she face the life that is coming.
Another old photograph. Two little sisters playing in the yard. They are all dressed up. Maybe it is a sunday today and they were disturbed while playing. Let’s make a photograph! Stand side by side and join hands.
They are so serious! They do what they have to do, but it seems they do not really like it. Afterwards they will play again, make their white dresses dirty. Maybe they will fight, maybe they will laugh. They will grow and when they see the photograph, they will remember.
A photograph of a very old photograph. I was not even born then. The boy is about 4 years old and his little sister may have been ten months. You can see the age difference in the hand and the little foot. There is an intimicy that is really overpowering.
How did they grow up? Did they like or love each other? Did they have secrets together? Did they play together? Did they live the same life or did they seperate and became strangers;
What is the story??? Tell me!!!