INTERNATIONAL PANELING
Image by Horster
Is this Publication you are Reading Actually a Ghost?
by Leo Kuelbs
NYC
Think about it. All of this has already happened. It was written before, based upon events which were so strong that they imprinted themselves in the minds of the writers and illustrators. And now, here they are, existing in an alternate plain of existence known as “the web.” Scared yet? Perhaps this article was written many years ago and is somehow traveling through different levels of space and reality. Articles in their afterlife…
In the preface to “Erewhon Revisted,” Samuel Butler rightly pointed out his vicarious life that the reader was literally creating for him, simply through the act of reading the book so many years after he passed away. Thoughts have legs! It’s an amazing gift when your thought or creation is taken into the general fabric of contemporary (and hopefully classic) consciousness. Really an amazing feat.
It seems clear that the internet is a reflection and outgrowth of the human psyche. In a more physical and electrical manner, the internet demonstrates the power of human connection. Perhaps it’s the training wheels on which we will start to figure out how connected we may also be, just through the expanded understanding of things as common as love, prayer, blood, commonalities, etc.
Somewhere in this mix, the Astral Plain exists. Is the Astral Plain actually a place, or is it a state in which a soul/energy can get stuck? I guess a state and a place may also be the same thing, depending on the nature and requirements of your reality. So, where are we now? And how is it that you are reading this potential ghost in a state/place which is real, yet pretty abstract at the same time. Who are you as an observer?
In the state between sleep and more full consciousness, I started to realize that when we are in dreams, it is often the case that someone spots you and tries to catch or kill you and that is when the dream ends. Pretty common. Then I was thinking about the Cheap Trick album, “The Dream Police.” I never listened to the album, but the title is interesting. Could it be those who try to harm us in our dream world are “Dream Police?” Are they out to get us because through the holes (wholes) in our consciousness we have reached other realities or plains of existence in which we are not welcome?
In many cases, we start to fly or float away. To escape, to hide. They always find us when we hide in the trees, and soon after, we are conscious again, on our way to the toilet. I wonder if we are like those little floating balls of light when we are in that state? Subconscious trapped in warped little windows into other places. Just there until one of the Dream Police spot us and report us to consciousness control and we are chased out, back into our own space, time reality.
“And what of the ghosts of the internet? Memorial Facebook pages and Instagram feeds haunt us with the voices and videos of the deceased…”
And what of the ghosts of the internet? Memorial Facebook pages and Instagram Feeds haunt us with the voices and videos of the deceased, and we wonder who will handle our handle after we depart. Does anyone really want their old Facebook page Instagram feed to even work after they die? Would you ask one of your friends to keep your Twitter feed going? It’s a set of questions that seem very undignified, so crass and un-death like. The internet is for pictures of champagne bottles on disheveled beds, pool parties and pics of pets. Not a place for words like sympathy and dignity.
So, as we approach another Day of the Dead, maybe it’s a good idea to think about the future and how our spirits will interact with the endless plains of digital space and reality. Where will it take our memories? Who will care about those old outlines and imprints of a once living being who is now gone into another world, only to be encountered through a warped bubble for a few furtive seconds.
And then one day, the electric grid will shut down and that world will also turn off with not even the flip of a switch. Happy Autumn Holidays, everyone!
Image by Pieper
Poetry Corner
by Nicole Callihan
Brooklyn
Mutatis Mutandis
1: with the necessary changes having been made
2: with the respective differences having been considered
3: of the river
4: of the tooth’s deep root
5: of my mother, broken-hearted
6: for you
7: for the love of my girlhood jesus
8: the grasshopper
9: the grass
10: glass grown into the foot
11: because tweezers
12: because family
13: and also, because I am wrong
14: and also, because I am not wrong
Shorty of the Week: “Roger’s Dream” by Jim Ellis from the show “Submerged!”
Intro by Leo Kuelbs
“Roger’s Dream,” was created by Jim Ellis in reaction to a short story of the same title, as part of the video show “Submerged!” which started appearing in 2014 at art events in the USA and Europe. “Submerged!” is a seven video collaboration, initially meant to mine the possibilities between literary and visual arts and went on for a pretty nice run of shows. The show was curated by Karl Erickson and Leo Kuelbs
In Mr. Ellis’ own words: “The drunk/high middle aged couch-potato Roger, falls asleep while cooking a junk-food pizza and channel surfing. He dreams of failed attempts at being the alpha male, and relevant once again to hip youth culture. The film is the time/space between the waking mind and the dream of Roger. The realm where creative amalgamations of sensory information are represented and processed. A realm expressed through a generative phase-shifting film that layers/composites over 275 source movies to create the final piece.”
Image by ANANI
How I’m Celebrating the Day of the Dead: Baking Bread Babies with Pocobelli
by Adrian Pocobelli
Berlin
Having a Bolivian girlfriend has its challenges but celebrating unusual food traditions isn’t one of them. I grew up in Canada, where most pagan holidays have been co-opted by corporations, and this includes Halloween, the Day of the Dead, which we generally celebrate with Hollywood horror movies and industrially produced candy. In Latin America, however, they have a slightly different, more visceral—even homegrown—take on the turning of the leaves and the beginning of winter.
The bread is shaped like a baby wrapped in a blanket, with a little face, sometimes made of ceramic, that peeks out at the top.
The so-called t’anta wawa, a Quechua word translated as ‘bread baby’, is a traditional sweet bread eaten on Nov. 1 and 2, All Souls’ Day and the Day of the Dead, in Bolivia. On Nov. 1, the spirits of the dead visit the living, who are expected to have an offering ready. The bread is shaped like a baby wrapped in a blanket, with a little face, sometimes made of ceramic, that peeks out at the top. Families exchange the bread roll figurines as part of a ritual, and they’re also combined with other traditional foods.
The tradition is native to the Andes, including countries such as Bolivia, Ecuador and Peru, and they are only baked and eaten on this occasion.
To make your own t’anta wawa, try the following recipe.
Ingredients
4 cups of white flour
1/4 oz. active dry yeast
1/2 cup of sugar
2 teaspoons of salt
4 oz. butter
4 eggs
1 tablespoon of cinnamon
1 teaspoon of vanilla
2 cups of milk
Instructions:
Add the flour into a bowl, and then mix in the butter until it creates a loose consistency. Add the yeast, sugar and salt. Then add the eggs and cinnamon and continue mixing, while gradually adding the milk.
Work the dough a few times over, while taking breaks in-between to let it rise. If you use decorative items, add these after the dough has settled.
Place the dough figures on a butter covered oven sheet and brush each figure with beaten egg whites.
Bake for 15-20 minutes at 350 degrees F.
Time and Tide: Seaside Observation, Inspiration and Creation
Image and Text by Stu Spence
Sydney
There is an anachronism that sits at the end of a small beach near where I live in Sydney. A time traveler stuck about a hundred years too far in the future; it waits for the weather, the water, and man to make their moves.
I see the tide hut most days on my ventures around the bays and headlands of Sydney Harbour. Like an old Coney Island ticket booth, or perhaps an overwater confessional, so our little wooden hut patiently waits at the end of its small wooden jetty, for what, no one’s quite sure.
Part of my art practice is to invite other artists, musicians, poets, actors etc. to interpret my photographs in any way that floats their boat. Established artists and up-and-comers alike have all written and recorded pieces to accompany my work.
This is a great honour, and I consider myself a lucky bastard.
In the spirit of this call-and-response deal, I also produce my own interpretations. In February my new gallery decided they’d like a show from me, pronto. Terrifying, though there’s nothing quite like a deadline, especially a tight one, to blow the cobwebs out and get one actually making stuff…instead of talking about making it.
I decided to write and produce a short film set around our tide station. I’m also the actor. Suffice to say, production costs were, ahem, comfortably slim. Did I attain permission to shoot there? Permits? Well, kind of, I tried, a bit…ok, not exactly.
“Time and Tide” is set in Massachusetts in 1935. I play the tide keeper, who arrives one morning to the hut where he’s worked for 17 years, only to find the door has a new lock, and that he’s locked out. What ensues is a day spent waiting for the cops, drinking, dark reminiscences of love, war, and a guy called Edward Hopper…
“Time and Tide” is set in Massachusetts in 1935. I play the tide keeper, who arrives one morning to the hut where he’s worked for 17 years, only to find the door has a new lock, and that he’s locked out. What ensues is a day spent waiting for the cops, drinking, dark reminiscences of love, war, and a guy called Edward Hopper, ‘He’s famous apparently, last name Hepper, Hipper, somethin’ like that….”
Cut to a month later, and I’m contacted by a local community group, wondering if I’d like to contribute an artwork centered around the tide station. The group are asking local artists to produce art centered around our hut, in the hopes of sweetening a proposal to have the old girl restored. Our works would be used for publicity, as, it seems Sydney Harbour icons attract lots of media interest.
“Sure”, I said, “in fact, here’s one I prepared earlier,” and so “Time and Tide” was swiftly jettisoned off to the right bureaucrats, and voila, today I heard news that the facelift/restoration is now greenlit and work will commence in March 2022.
Now, I’d love to think that my little flick turned the tide (so to speak) on the whole approval process, that after watching it, a bunch of fat cats slowly turned to each other and said, no, gasped, ‘We must save this relic, this beautiful old lady, just look what she inspires,’ this said pointing to the giant screen where my film has just shown.
Something deep inside, though, tells me that wasn’t quite the case, but it is pretty great thinking art can be used for good sometimes and not evil.
Just sometimes.
It’s Time for Another Round of: “3 Questions! This time with the great Curator, Leslie Moody Castro!
Intro by Leo Kuelbs
Leslie Moody Castro is the Curator in charge of the “Momentary,” art video program which will appear November 4th as part of LIGHT YEAR series on the Manhattan Bridge in NYC, as well as at SCOPE BLN (in Berlin) and streaming online! Leslie works mostly between Texas and Mexico, with itinerancy and collaboration as the back bone of her practice. LIGHT YEAR 79: MOMENTARY is supported by the Dallas-based Aurora, group who also present a variety of events in the Dallas area under the same name. Aurora also has deep roots in their community and is interested in supporting and promoting artists and issue connected to their region, yet maintain an international scope and a very nice vibe of inclusion.
LIGHT YEAR has been going on for over seven years and is supported by the NYC DOT, The DUMBO Improvement District, Leo Kuelbs Collection, Glowing Bulbs and John Ensor Parker.
Here are Leslie’s 3 Questions:
1. Hello Leslie! Can you tell us a little bit about your background and influences on your curatorial practice?
2. You are doing a show with Aurora for LIGHT YEAR in November. Can you tell us about that and your thoughts on collaboration and what curating means to you?
3. Where are you located these days and what other projects and innovations are you looking forward to?
“Biblioteca” by Disha Iris Lundberg
One More Scary Fairy Tale from Erika Eichenseer!
Intro by Leo Kuelbs
If you happened to catch last month’s “Scary Fairy Tales” with Erika Eichenseer, then you already know that she is responsible for bringing a trove of German folk and fairy tales, collected in the mid 1800s, to light. Erika’s retellings have been happening, mostly in Germany, since the 1950s and since an article in the Guardian Newspaper was published a few years back, the stories have found themselves translated into multiple languuges and available all over the globe.
These works are also the inspiration for the Digital Fairy Tales series, which connects contemporary artists with the old stories in search of enhancement of connection between peoples and eras. Franz Xaver von Schönwerth was responsible for gathering and preserving these interested artifacts which contain valuable insight into the human experience.
Day of the Dead Special!
by Mark Bailey
Minneapolis
Bits of autumn sun, reflected by a polished steel charm bracelet, painted a passing man's face. The effect was fleeting, but it was enough to stop him on the sidewalk in front of the store. "Day of the Dead special," said Hester to the man as he came to a halt, momentarily dazzled. "Only forty dollars to tell your fortune."
The man glanced Hester's way, then fixed his gaze on the tiny skulls dangling from her bracelet. "I don't believe in that stuff," he muttered.
"It's just a game like any other," said Hester. "You'd be surprised what you can learn."
"Alright, but the minute you mention chakras or wave a quartz crystal in my face, I'm out of here," said the man. "I've got time to kill anyway."
"Right this way," said Hester, leading the man through the occult shop and into the small room in back that she rented to tell fortunes. The shop itself was empty, save for a clerk who was reading and didn't look up.
"I'm Owen," said the man, taking the seat he was offered. "So what do you do? Palm? Cards?"
"Maybe something a little different for you," said Hester, who had already learned all she needed to about Owen from his body language and general manner. "It's a special day. The veil between worlds is thin. And I sense ... an important message for you from beyond."
“An important message, huh?" said Owen, unimpressed.
"You lost someone," said Hester. "A year ago. Maybe two. Not to death, but to a falling out. This person hurt you deeply. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"That's general enough that it could apply to anyone," said Owen.
“Perhaps, but it applies to you, yes?" said Hester. "The reason I bring it up is this. There's a spirit on the other side, looking out for you, concerned about how the loss is affecting you."
"Concerned how?" asked Owen.
"This spirit is someone who you knew when you were much younger," said Hester. "Someone who moved on early. Before their time, you might believe, though no one truly passes before their time. They've been watching over you ever since. Do you know who it could be?"
Owen felt uncomfortable in an unfamiliar way. "Robbie," he said without intending to. "We were friends when we were kids. He died in a car accident."
Owen felt uncomfortable in an unfamiliar way. "Robbie," he said without intending to. "We were friends when we were kids. He died in a car accident."
"Good," said Hester. "Robbie is trying to speak to you now. To tell you something important about this other person who was in your life."
"Linda," said Owen, feeling foolish but saying it anyway. "We were friends. I got her a job but the job didn't work out. She wasn't a good fit for the company and she blamed me when she got fired."
"How did you handle that situation?" asked Hester.
"What was I supposed to do?" asked Owen. "I went out on a limb for her and she blew it. Then she had the nerve to say that I did it on purpose. That I somehow wanted her to fail. So I cut off all contact."
"And what do you think Robbie might say about that?" asked Hester.
"I don't know," said Owen, seeing the trick he'd fallen for too late. "That friends are more important than jobs. Maybe that I should call Linda and apologize."
"Is there anything else that you want to ask the spirits?" asked Hester.
"Ask them how come it costs forty bucks to talk to them," joked Owen lamely.
Image by ANANI
THIS JUST IN: From the Brooklyn News Desk!
by Noel Dantikaar
Brooklyn
ASPIRING WRITER MISSES DEADLINE FOR YET ANOTHER GOLDEN PUBLISHING OPPORTUNITY
Jack Kenneth, certified CPA and aspiring writer, recently missed another monthly article submission deadline to his favorite e-zine, despite being begged on a weekly basis by editor to submit.
Jack offered his usual “I’ve just been so busy with my CPA work, you can’t imagine how much work I have.” excuse, with a few new embelishments. Asked for comment, Jack couldn’t exactly remember all the embellishments (or how he phrased them) because they were so off the cuff. But Jack assured the public that, in his words, “They were convincing given the circumstances and the number of previously missed deadlines.” For our readers’ reference, he’s missed approximately a year’s worth of deadlines after having promised to be a founding owner of his said favorite e-zine.
Next month’s article submission date is a mere two weeks away, which we all hope is enough time for Jack to sink into a fit of guilt for disappointing himself to kick in and deliver even a short writing (or concoct another layer of convincing embellishments).
It’s that time again. Thank you for reading the November 2021 issue of International Paneling.
!!!