HAPPY BIRTHDAY S1!!!

Dear Sisters,

It has been a while.


*HAPPY BIRTHDAY S1*
Long live ROUND NUMBERS, may your day be fantastic and your upcoming journeys safe, colourful and unforgettable! (we use UK spelling); I know you are de-materializing your portable load, so please be sure that the present shall reach you, if not in a very light form before you leave, certainly as something palpable, sweet and discrete when you arrive. Please accept in my heart my loveliest wishes to you. I am sure you are making the most of it. And that every day is your birthday :-D I shall attend a yoga class to celebrate!

How was the YARDSALE? My thoughts are with you, and I am very much inspired by your de-junking status, it has in fact blown over here, enveloped me and even sprouted in me; I have filled all of half a bag with stuff I wish to get rid of. I also put up some snazzy vertical railings on the glass doors separating the communal kitchen from my working palace, to hang paintings on, since I am not allowed to make holes in the walls. It is healthy to be so productive. This means the paintings are visible instead of being stacked all over the place. It helps me think.

Do you like my Christmas tree?


We have had solid snow for the past couple of weeks; but now it is mostly rain. The winters here are dark, and were it not for the lights of Xmas these days would be very somber indeed. I think that that's what Xmas originally was invented for, you know, to cheer you up in the darkest of days. By the pagans that is before Christianity borrowed the feast. The more the merrier I'd say.


I need a visit to a sauna!
I send you both all my love, thanks for the great presents.
S2

hello, it's me

Dear sisters,

Well, I have been busy you know. Finding yet another recipe for the previously unkown vegetable chard, which has been appearing weekly in our organic locally grown home delivery box for the last two months, I suppose it is chard season. I have been painting my toe nails, watching the varnish dry, expanding my flip flop collection, digesting the fact we will be moving to Bali in two weeks and three days.

It is the right time to panic. The house has to be empty very soon. We still have to sell our cars, our tvs, furniture. We have to have our shots, our visa, our tickets, Christmas has to be celebrated. Goodbye parties. You know.

I have to unsubscribe to the mailing list of all the filmfestivals I hardly managed to attend. I got to the film noir B movie festival, that was a good one, the documentary film festival, the independent filmfestival, but not the, Jewish, the Irish, the Italian, the Asian American or the silent movie festival. Of course we went to the the sing-a-longs in the Castro theatre. I will have to unsubscribe to the newsletters from the music venues and my favorite online shopping sites.

We also had a family crisis. We laugh about it now. I call it the Taco Intervention. At recent social gatherings of our instigation, Allard panicked that guests would get hungry later on and went off on a taco and salsa buying rampage. The kitchen cupboards are still stuffed to the gils with big bags of corn chip bags and pots of salsa suace in various strengths. I have had to forbid him to enter the taco chips aisle for a while.

Things are being put in piles, organized, thrown away. It has a liberating aspect. The aim is to leave with five or six suitcases, containing clothes, toys and electronic gadgets.

Oh, does moving to Bali mean we are leaving San Francisco? Mmm. That part is also sinking in. Jip' last day at school, Rosie's coming up. A lot of lasts.

As Jip keeps asking" Why are we leaving San francisco. Everything is so good here? " And it is true there are a lot of things I will miss of this fair and beautiful city and not many things I will be glad to leave behind. Except maybe for Nancy Grace, the commercial breaks, the scary police officer who lurks behind the cars on 19th and Church, waiting to ticket people who do not make the full stop at the stop sign and the heating system which makes so much noise blasting hot air into the rooms, the cold is often preferable.

I thought of doing posts on my top ten views (so many), top ten trees -love the Californian trees! - top ten coffee shops, that wall on Valencia that changes with a new collage of posters, artwork and text every week, but I haven't yet. Maybe later.

Now patiently waiting for the delayed parents, who hopefully will arrive tomorrow, held up by the snow. Jip had the most boring day of his life today, his words, towing along with my to do list, until we started his new blog: www.legotales.blogspot.com.

I wish you both a great Christmas. We wish you could be here, of course. We will be thinking of you under the tree.

kisses
S1

mermaids reading in the underground.

Ahoj fellow sailor sisters ,

gravity is loose knitting thick blankets of leaves , the wind gales are picking up in dance trot gust, and im in a poetic mood.
I send you two pictures and a song to celebrate the seasons.
The unicorns are us ofcourse.
Notice the green sparkly mermaid nails.

My new favourite singer is called Andrew Bird and i like him a lot , here is a nice video to sway to his song, it's called IMITOSIS

Keep warm and happy
Lots of love
Sister Three

Total eclipse of the heart

This is for S3 who I know is a fan (thanks to Terence)

Cs

a story in three pictures (2)

S1

bedroom view!

Hello dear sisters,



sometimes the light just spills in here and sets anything in the room ablaze....


love,
S2

Listospad

The leaves are falling the leaves are falling the leaves are falling.
The month of november in czech language is Listospad which literally means leaves falling.
Am dealing with the going of autumn and the coming of winter with a very clever means of survival,
dumplings and sauerkraut which i love.
Mama Africa has made her entrance into the czech republic bringing with her the musical orchestra of colour
as you can see here.




And here is a wonderful song that i keep playing over and over, mama and i dance to it every morning.
Its called GUITAR
Enjoy !
Will post again soon, a lot to say after the Brno experience , im still digesting !
Love S3

Calling all crazy knitters...

Dear Sisters,
Maybe you know someone who likes knitting, or crocheting. Here is an interesting project, for anyone with time on their hands who would like to try out some new shapes. It's educational and meant to raise awareness about sexual health during a special week (SHAW) at Warwick University. Artist Frieda Van de Poll is behind it.
S2

appy happy birthday !

happy birthday!

The dancing you must imagine ! I am dancing and jumping all over the place here for you !
Have a lovely day ! A photo will soon follow! Im now at school stencilling a chair in colours .
Enjoy the cakes ! My classmates all wish you happy birthday too :0)
Love S3

Explosions, type and grace

Hello there sisters!



A door in mid-restauration on Antwerp's Meir,
the main shopping street.



I have been a-long-long-gone-one, I know, at least from the blogosphere. It's just that life ain't that 'i have a feeling I know where all the pieces fit' kinda place at the moment, so bear with me awhile as I re-shuffle the letters.

Where have I been, apart from half the world over and back with S3 to be with you, S1, recently?



La Fête du Village: The Red Cross holding watch over
our street during a late-September parade



Well, there is this amazing exhibition by Michel François on at the moment at the SMAK in Ghent. The whole upper floor is dedicated to his work...and he really blows you away: wih a film of shattering bottles (almost) landing on the artist as he paces around in circles on a concrete floor, calmly smoking a cigarette...or what about an upside-down field of dandelion bells, or a complex structure of beams and magnets in a room looking like the work of a spider on caffeine? Or there is the visceral clay-like substance in blocks covered in silver leaf, out of which handfulls have been taken, stronger than an Anthony Gormly field and echoing of an Ann Hamilton shaped piece of dough in a performance....moonboots made out of elastic bands, discarded as if forgotten in the corner; incongruous and so very apt that it makes you gasp. A smashed window as a giveaway poster large enough to cover one wall; plasticine stuck between the radiator in rainbow stripes, a room dismantled and water streaming in, gosh that feels right in a museum, no, not any museum, but in this one! And then meeting A. whom I have known for so many years and all the artworld stiff bonjourism melts away for a real conversation about wondering about the newly discovered ring around Saturn, the speed of light and the type of brains you need to take into account when teaching about mathematics...

Yes, A. came to the rescue and took me out of the Museum right on time, after a gorgeous exhibition, into a restaurant for a lovely meal.... in every way it was civilised, from the fish down the conversation. Even the waiters were lovely. A's friends turned out to be avid art lovers and started having ferocious discussions about the meaning of painting and everything, slamming their fists on the table! (I liked that bit)... and it left me reassured that the passions still reign in that strange realm they call contemporary art...

This sunday, I was spoiled by our parents, who descended upon Antwerp to take me out for Sunday Lunch. Which we enjoyed (after a wee detour past a little flea market that we love and know by the Pedestrian Tunnel under the Scheldt...). I bought another set of scales.

We ate at the Zuiderterras, it was great, you know, like real Sunday dinner, it was. Then KP called and offered some tickets for an exhibition viewing at Bozar in Brussels followed by a film premiere, which we gladly accepted and bravely our father, and I, ventured in to see the latest exhibition there, The State of Things, curated by Luc Tuymans and Ai Wei Wei. I particularly liked the piece by Vanessa Van Obberghen which was the Flemish Anthem played on the bongos. Joëlle Tuerlinckx made this room in which the cumulative effect of sunlight was amplified; you normally need glasses to go inside there; there were all these curling pieces of paper, it was hilarious and striking at the same time. Eeh, I do enjoy a good sense of humour in my art. Even when it is bittersweet.

It all was suffused in a rather violet (violent) glow. Almost like you could feel it on your skin like a temperature. I do not know whether it gives you a suntan.

The other night another opening of Cerith Wyn Evans at deSingel; exciting times are these. This included letters cut away from book pages revealing the wall behind! -and it was: gasp!-and neon sentences in mirror image and circles of phrases in fireworks. I had a lovely time there meeting all sorts of people whom I didn't know who happen to be collectors and also extremely passionate about art. I also met a man who only does neon and he was very neon. I liked him, he has a gorgeous face and although he was very serious amongst the collectors I could see he has a good sense of humour too.


Home sweet home in the sunshine


A new "home",
of a kind,
on Saturdays...

Other new highlights in my life include the Typography Course i am doing at the Plantin Moretus Museum where each saturday I go on my date with the 16th century as I call it. I have access to the attic of the museum and the print cabinet, and together with other font aficionados we get poured full of Knowledge - like lead being poured into mould and shaped by a copper matrix - a lot of this knowledge is fast-disappearing - about the history of printing, of letters, illustration techniques, you name it. You can imagine it is a bit of an Aladdin's cave for me and my eyes lust each week for the encounter with forms and variations which you may have always taken for granted but which upon closer inspection turn out to contain story upon story and individual history upon collective history.

This is a choice made based on fingerspitzengefühl. I don't know what I will do with it but it helps me engage with my city's history in a very immediate way. The first ever atlases in the whole wide world were printed here, and from the 16th century onwards shiploads of books in Spanish left from here to the New World (this was in the time that the Spanish reigned over the city) to spread knowledge or at least the gospel. I love the inner courtyard, where you, S3, and I have recently been.....


Typography is everywhere, I realised, as I was sitting gazing
into space, wondering whether I should be doing the course...

There have been many more things happening too of course, dear sisters, such as a voting out of a certain proposal of a certain bridge coming precariously near the city. I am involved in an indirect way, through this benefit auction, and of course by exercising a right to vote in last Sunday's referendum, which is always a good muscle to flex.
Love from S2


The beautifully preserved interior gardens of
the grand Plantin Moretus Museum.
I am most honoured to be a visitor here.

when shall we meet again?

Just a little homesick with this cityguide

More about Californian living later.

S1

mr.petit is not who i thunk he was

Dearest siblingz,

I have some suprising news.
You remember my great tight rope walking friend mr.petit ?
Well , it turns out he is not at all a professional tight rope walker.

A lot to take in at once, i know.
I had my suspicions when his thick black stick on moustache fell off.
When his strong french accent would sometimes sound like a deep down southern accent from texas. ( turns out he has family there )
But he just convinced me that that was part of a new act he was working on , to tight rope walk from america to france. Did they take the word gullable out of the dictionary ? I dont think im gullable , im just a positive thinker !
But then when i noticed him falling off little walls , not being able to walk in a straight line for more than half a meter i had to confront Fillippe and ask him straight out if he really was a tight rope walker.
Which, as you can imagine , is a difficult situation. I did not want to doubt my friend's great talent and i was afraid i would insult him forever.
He was very silent at first , but i could see in his eyes that there was a deeper , more silent secret hiding inside him.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, it turns out mr.petit's real name is Tomey Rindboots and he is a bum from Chicago who has got himself involved in a dangerous waffle making mafia here in Prague.
Im still in shock.
The waffle business is owned by an Israeli/ Iraqi guy who had faith that the belgian waffle would be a great success here in Prague. Somehow it hasnt kicked off, but he is forcing Tomey Rindboots to make dough everyday and sell as many waffles as possible.
He is also being forced to eat all the waffles that he doesn't sell.
This is simply outrageous.
But that's not all, im afraid. His waffle boss has now invested a big sum of money in 300 pairs of earwarmers.
I dont know where this will all lead to but somehow i find it more risky than tight rope walking.
I have forgiven Tomey Rindboots for his terrible secret. It's not his fault.
Just a pity that the name of your best friend is mr.Rindboots instead of mr.petit.
But it's growing on me already. As i said , i am a great believer in postive thinking.



I leave you now with a very beautiful ballet called In the upper room
to the music of Phillip Glass.
Enjoy !
S3

Im Listening.....

Love, S3

a night out in the forest

After my voice came back and that i found my health hiding in my closet inside my zebra dress and sparkly blue top, i decided it was time to go dancing.

The hairy growth on the right side of my face is not a pet rat but in fact a stick on side moustache , the latest rage in Prague. Has this fashion hit San Francisco or Antwerp yet ?





My friend Fillippe Petit , a tight rope walker by profession, joined me in these happy events. ( I highly reccomend you watch his latest film " Man on Wire " it is amazing ! here is the trailer to the film where they almost give away the whole story , but really go and watch it if you can ! )
So here i am , before i do some amazing dancing, blending in with the crowd of about ten people. I think it's in yorkshire language that one would say it was bustling.





No , i did not return to my village disco bar, i was right in the centre of Prague in a glittering cave where some band called Team Beat were making a video clip for their new song (sorry, no youtube video to show as of yet, that's how underground they really are ! but i have a signed orange hat with german text on it ! das ist koel jaa)

Now let me introduce you to Filippe, great guy, really, just wish he didnt tight rope walk so much on such high buildings, but he loves his job which is always a good thing i suppose.





Ach , wonderful guy , Fillippe , what can i say ?

Fillippe jumped straight away into some groovy dancing, as you can see here.



I think Fillippe enjoyed himself as well, he even got out his purple shiny turban which he wears only when crossing between buildings higher than 33O metres, dont ask me why, it's a long story, but between us, i think he's a bit of a show off.
But i think we can allow him this little frivolous indulgence.



It was hard to tear ourselves away from fame, being the only ones dancing in the cave, but we followed the sparkly disco balls calling us in the distance, and joined another nice party.



Ofcourse Fillippe and I were the stars of the evening and the dance floor but we are not selfish dancers and we give other brave people the chance to train a bit and reach our mastered level.



The sun is shining bright in Prague. greetings to you all !
Thanks S1 for the zebra dress, it is a success !
groovy gravy
S3

plastic camera

S1

I want this golden sparkly dress to dance in

And this is a tree in a boat.
love S3

"Look at each other and smile nicely"

Despite straightforward bribery, my children refuse to follow instructions.


S1

burning man, it has been digested

The bearded man in his gold lamé mini dress rythmically twirls the fiery batons as he moves to the hypnotic boom boom music coming from the Robot Heart car, the crowd gathered around in a circle, clapping and cheering, feet stamping and arms in the air.



Look!

There's my husband in his utility kilt, furry cape draped around his shoulders, and his green fuzzy bear hat, flaps pinned back, looking ravishing. The two pink circular glowies stuck onto his chest, like two large nipples, make him easy to spot in the dark. And there is our friend M with spectacular glittery eyelashes and twirly things on her face and in her hair. Her costume tonight is a mix between Medusa and Cleopatra. Of course the other M, in his tiny tenniswhites - his Bjorn Borg outfit - hair braided, is not far, his red boxing boots moving to the beat. I am dressed down in shocking pink.

We are waiting for the rocket "launch", which it does with many colorful explosions and the smell of gasoline.

Later we cycle in a nine-man formation, sometimes long and sometimes wide, sometimes we lose someone , having only glowies and the blinkies to go by, and then we find them again. We cycle towards the lights. It may be the giant rubix cube or the crazy ping pong balls. We stop at the slide and the fiery beast, where we can push on big pedals to release blasts of fire. They like that here, and we like the woosh sound too, followed by the ten seconds of daylight and heat glow.

Far out in the dark, a little speck of light brings us to a wooden boat thing with a decorated room in it. Someone is sleeping on the floor, but we are invited to play the piano anyway.



More cycling, any which way we like. We can cycle in circles if we want to, and when we want to, we stop and park our bikes, hoping the orientation point we choose has not moved by the time we want to find them again.



Sometimes we just stand still and look at the horizon filled with pink, purple, yellow and blue light dots, as far as our eyes can see.




Carl Cox, an old favorite, opens his set with a version of this song at the Opulent Temple. We all like that.

During the day it is hot and dusty, naked people, It is true what you have heard, but not so scary. What they don't tell you is how the sky changes every hour of the day, there is beauty in a dust storm and space in the desert. And so much else to see.










Mad max fairytale land, I didn't even see half of it. I am now regretting sitting in that chair under the shade structure for so many hours on the second day, but it was hot after the night before, and I am a sissy.



Sisters, thanks for looking after the kiddo's. they still talk about that whipped cream on their chocolate milk. Was great having you here.

Love, S1

Let Jag

Greetings earthlings , How.
The let jag, lag jet, jag let is slowly coming to an end. But boy was it worth it to be in San francisco for two weeks , the magic wooden boat surrounded by mist and sunshine. Those radio posts on top of hills really look like ship masts when you walk up a hill and see the mist roll in over you and all the colourful houses. I had a brilliant time and really fell inlove with this city. If i have to summon a few highlights it would be chocolate soufflé , yoga twisting , fresh sea air, golden gate bridge, Martha's coffee place, pink flowers, Mary Poppins sing along , coffee toffee icecream, steep hills and palm trees , healthy organic food and plane simple happiness. Thankyou !
I wont go into detail of the jet lag that followed but here is some visual evidence of what happened to us. Believe it or not , these are your sisters 10 000 feet in the sky, they are not neck cushion aliens , rest assured.
Although sometimes i had my doubts. We watched startrek on the plane and when we got home i found this little gem of a video from an old startrek series, i couldnt stop laughing but that might have been the jetlag taking its toll. Please watch it to the end, its very amusing.( i think i still have jetlag) funny video with great acting

Yes, did you watch it to the end ? i will send you all a questionaire about the clip with difficult questions like" what did he do after the spanish tapdance on the nose ?" Who ever answers me first will win a a pair of spock ears.
Moving on , here is another clip that reminded me of the night out we had amongst us sisters, it was truely magical and i will remember that chocolate soufflé forever !
It all seems a bit like a dream now, the drink we went for after in the Tosca was quite surreal as well. The high ceilings and the juke box were fun. Here a song that S2 chose to play , good choice ! Just a gigolo







And here is a wonderful song that is meant for you and this blog, its by Antony and the Johnsons and its called you are my sister

Ive been listening to them a lot lately and its perfect music for settling back into Prague again. Yes, i am back in my eastern dark valley forest. And its indian summer here, lovely warm weather. As you might have already heard i lost my voice due to a cold but i think its because i said before leaving that i wasnt looking forward to speaking difficult czech again, so i lost it completely ! I had to whisper to the taxi driver where i lived and he just laughed and said i would be an ideal wife if my voice stayed away like that, i wig wagged my pointing finger saying " no, no " and then had to thump my hand into my fist to show that although i cant talk i can still punch !
Welcome back to Czech land.
Anyway, i have rested well and my voice is now back again , although i sound like a a man after heavy drinking. In any case, i am looking forward to speaking czech again and i love this difficult language, really i do , deep down somewhere.
It was great fun seeing you all and i had a lovely summer.
Take care and hopefuly see you all soon!
Love S3