Not in Yangon

- Untitled-

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

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

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

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.' ...

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\\

Smiles hanging along the road. Take 'em all.

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

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. 

 Ants // Industrialisation of sugar licking.

'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-

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

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

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

World is precisely out of this place.

'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.

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