Sunday, July 5, 2009

part 3: black or white, it is all the same to me, is it.

Shortly after Sluik entered the house he returned outside and determined. Less than a year before a man and very close friend Emile Toorop gave him a little digital compact metallic blue Lumix camera. Maybe surprisingly for some Sluik got fond of it very quickly and started photographing practically everything and anything. Things and objects and landscapes and his little family. Emile Toorop explicitly told him he should photograph his sons, so he did.

Obviously he had a self imposed mission of some kind again. The obsessive need to capture and collect like usual. Snow under his feet sounded different this time: harder and resistant or maybe firm and sound? It definitely cracked though. Earlier on he wandered. This time he literary marched up tempo. As if something or one could escape him and the route was planned, approved and signed months ahead.

>The world has expanded! I found new citizens! The ground is invaded today! They must be here by thousands! What are they up to? How long will they stay? Got to catch them all! Collect them and keep them! They are the pawns! Towers and bishops on horses! All off them are chessmen. Got to catch them before they are off. I have to keep an eye on them as long as they are here. They won't run me away! Not this time now I have thought of it in time this time. I have it all under control but I should be quick and stop thinking and brains out.

Sluik seemed restless and nervous, inpatient and hard on excited or better and in the mean time so self pleased with not much. And I was there observing poor him. We tumbled through the snow like a chasing hound dog. Sluik quickly flashed the men in the dark he encountered all over the estate. One, two. I noticed he was afraid for the use of the flashlight to alarm any in the neighborhood asleep. He did not want to get caught. Seven. He photographed in a hurry as if the flash would appear shorter that way. We hurried over the yards and fields discovering yet another of his soldiers. Eight. They seemed to move with him and became what he imagined them to be. Some he straight forwardly disliked and mistrusted and others he felt confident with. Fourteen, fifteen. He disconnected the creators and created the ancestors. In between he hastily whistled a Richman song... ring your bell, ding, ding! Rapid but soft and so out of tune not to wake up any spectators. He wanted to be left alone and in the mean time in the centre of the world surrounded by a crowd who would see it with him. Next catch: twenty one.

You see what I see? Yes, I do. But, you need me to explain. No I don't. Right, and the others see it too? Yes, they do! So we all see the same? Yes! Sure?? Yes!! So, no mistakes, no misinterpretations, no word confusion, no additional explanations needed. Brilliant. Twenty six! We all look and see the same thing! That is good... isn't it?

What am I going to do with the lot? With my new collection of puppets! There must be a market for it. There must be some kind of interest. Somebody out there listening? I just show them as they are. They just real size scare shit out of others. Thirty-two, ring your bell! I obviously do not have to go far and just keep it simple. I discovered the significance of snowmen, know what they are up to, and want all to be witness. They are the thieves of time. They do not take us seriously. We should learn from them!


And that is, I believe, the moment where Senis showed up out of the dark blue and asked him straight forwardly if he had managed to catch a snow-woman as well. I do not think there was an introduction before or a hello or my name is, just:

Caught any women?

No comments:

Post a Comment