Krk, Croatia… July 2006
Made a zine a few years ago. Here is the review I got for it by Amsterdam Zine Jam staff.
…some of it’s content:
i ran away and entered a gloomy basement jazz pub, with an old weary man sitting in a rocking chair up on empty stage, playing his sad guitar and singing about disappearing memories of a women he lost years before she was meant to leave. cigarette smoke reduced visibility to slim and i stumbled upon an umbrella lying on decaying wooden floor. i turned over a table and glasses flew across the room, but before drops of liquor had a chance to land, they disappeared into tiny invisible holes in the air, right above the ground. a wrinkled elderly lady, apologetic and kind, offered to buy me a drink and i gladly accepted. sipping whiskey on a cold november day with what seemed to be a lifeless but very sensual crowd, felt like a grand privilege. candles replacing lightbulbs on chandeliers slowly began to go out and i woke up, supporting my empty head and vaguely hearing sounds of someone sweeping the floor. i was there alone, took the old mans guitar and started to play my own solitary melody, shaped from pieces of unwanted memories. as the dawn awakened and tender light penetrated through wood-sealed window cracks, daydreaming ghosts took place behind dust covered tables and took pleasure in the unknown harmony.
every move i make is a torment.
every word i pronounce is a struggle.
sharp nails carve my back while you carelessly whisper your songs.
my knees ache under the weight of recurring memories.
lips chapped from keeping quiet.
create, hide, erase, deny.