Ireland

I cannot play any instruments and I cannot sing. I have an amazing voice, the America Got Talent winning type of voice, mind you, but I just cannot remember any words of any songs. This includes the hits happy birthday or Frere Jacques... So, being musically handicapped, I like when people pick up their fiddle, their pipes and start singing, downing beers and sharing music. In Dun laoghaire, I especially like the Mc Loughlin. I feel home there. Pat the bartender recognizes me, musicians are very friendly and the Guinness never dries up.

One of the musician, Rosie had a watercolour set, so I borrowed it to sketch her mates. Really nice.

Sierra Leone... Life after Ebola

Back to Sierra Leone early January!

What a change, how lively it is, the country is back swagging, people go out, beaches and bars are full, what a change from last year, the contrast is enormous, highlighting both the resilience of the people from Salone and the admirable way they changed their habits and life, to respond to the worst Ebola outbreak. 

I have so much respect for them, now we are drinking, we are dancing and playing ball on the beach, that's the way we roll! 

  

People are back in the streets, gazillions of them, and I could spend some time in the markets and slums of Freetown. Informal settlements during the week and touristy spots on the WE.

One of the pleasure of spending time in slums is that they are full of contrasts. The first impressions are mostly filled with the litter, the smells of fire, sewage, food, noise and durtiness. Then you start paying attention to life, to the kids, the multiple businesses, the youths putting up a party spot, the others playing ball, and you come to the realization that the metal city is breathing and moving. Then beauty comes out. Beauty is shy. It comes in the way rooms are taken care of, the paintings on the walls, the people you meet or, in this specific case, in the work of craftsmen. Facing the sea is the shipyard, and a boat was being finished. I don't know what resonated so much in me. Was it the colours, the size or the story behind the boat? The ship builder told me that it was commissionned to navigate between Conakry and Freetown, transporting up to 25 people, with their merchandises. It was due to be lauched early february. It should be on the ocean now. The boats tell stories of the fishermen, of mobility and the relations people build between regions. The boats and the zinc houses are full of dreams, energy and aspirations. Walking in dirt with heads full of dreams. 

 

Thanks guys for taking me out to the Whatsapp -and filling a USB with local tunes. A cool venue to dance on nigerian, ghanean, Salone beats, azondo, dancehall, ndombolo and others! So nice to go out! So much more simple than in zim. You don't feel like an intruder, you're a guest and it feels good.

Quincy (previousely known as Paddy's) is another night spot, a bar, dancefloor and pool tables on the beach. I went there because I couldn't not go out. It's Freetown and Ebola is over. You have to dance for life. I was thinking I'ld find people in that popular venue but no-one I knew was there. There was a police-force function, with distribution of certificates and prizes, then the music kicked in.
When I'm alone I sketch. As a man alone in a bar, I draw attention, and the solitude is quickly broken by friendly ladies of the night. I find that drawing enables to switch the conversation, to discuss about something else than love, businness and attraction. We then get to chat about what I am doing, I get to do their portrait and chat about our lives, the children, the jobs, dreams of success and a good life. I like to hear stories of people. I think that in a sense that is what I do. Last year a young girl in india asked me what I was doing. I was visiting her school, in a brick kiln. the workplace of her family. It is difficult for me to explain my job to children, so I said that I am hearing stories from people all over the world and I can share them. In a way I am a storyteller. I am collecting hundreds of stories,  snippets of life from people who have/ are facing hardship and from those who live with empathy and compassion. I collect stories of violence and love, poverty and dreams, neglect and care.
And I see with so much clarity the similarity in the human experience, regardless of colour, gender, religion, group of belonging, environment... humans are designed to love, to help each others, to cooperate and to show compassion. Whatever the situation, be there war, natural disaster, violence... there will always be people who will care and help, regardless of the danger, regardless of themselves.
I met last week a beautiful women, she is working for the catholic church in a war zone, helping to provide health facilities to over half a million people. Under the bombs. On one side you have people trying hard to destroy, on the other you have others that keep on building and caring regardless. They win. She told me that she spoke to the bishop about the extreme situation she is working in, and yet that feeling of being alive, happy and so looking forward to go back in the field. Under the bombs, living surrounded by violence. The bishop said that it was like being in Love. Love make people do crazy things, forgetting themselves and yet feeling in complete harmony and peace.
     

My daughter can share images from her head, she can put thoughts in other people's heads and dreams. She is 5, she is right, she shares good thoughts. I should do that more often.Kids know things adults have forgotten.

Ethiopia

I came back from 5 weeks working in Ethiopia and South Sudan, and with a short trip to Nairobi.
Exceptional countries for many different reasons. Unique.

I Ethiopia I mainly worked with Goal's teams in Gambella's refugee camps; welcoming people fleeing South Sudan, and with organizations responding to unaccompanied children on the move: street children, immigrants...
 
In Gambella alone there are over 120'000 refugees. Only 10% of them are men. The Men are mostly still in South Sudan, trying to save their cattle, fields and property. Women, children and old people have moved to seek security and to ensure survival.
They feel that life in a camp is better than life at home. Says it all.
It was very powerful to be there when Europe was -finally- opening its eyes on the people choosing to move out of their homeland and seeking refuge in a foreign land. It felt as if the Old lady woke up after a huge binge-drinking bender, with a headache and somehow surprised about "What the hell is happening?".

There are an estimate of 60 millions refugees and internally displaced people in the world today, among which 19 millions are refugees and asylum seekers. In 2014-2015 the USA welcomed 121.000 of them,  Russia 274.000 and the entire European Union member states 695.000.
On one side people are debating their hospitality and hosting ability, they are wondering what makes it impossible for the migrants to stay in their homeland. They are fearing for their comfort and respond with hate. They are showing the worst: locked doors, fear, hate, racism etc. True pollution.
On the other hand, some opinions shared publicly are showing compassion, empathy and the best human can give: love and care.  
Anyway.



Ethiopia revealed itself to me by the kindness and hospitality of the people. Without understanding the languages, discovering a society so truly fundamentally different than mine, I felt hosted and welcomed by all. From the coffee ladies, the bar-customers, the social workers or the people sitting and looking whilst I am drawing, I really felt a true interest in being with me.
Very uplifting indeed.
 
I loved being there, experiencing the polychomatic world of diversity, having my soul strengthen, and my comfort shaken. I love feeling the togetherness. It is cool.
 

Nothing much to say. You need to go to Ethiopia to feel for yourself.

 

x

Shoko's sketching marathon.

Shoko Festival, once a year and very different from the other festivals in Zimbabwe. This one focuses on words, weather slam jams, hip hop, conferences and workshops pushing for alternative ways of living (upcycling etc.), comedy night, street art etc. Good. 

What was a bit unfortunate was that the festival happened the same WE as 4 other events, and the public was much less than expected. 

But hey, got an entry as an artist so I was happy. The initial discussion, literally 2 weeks ago happened this way: 

"hey, do you also do some form of art at Shoko?"

"Yes, we'll write and spray paint on a wall in Chitungwiza".

" Would you be interested in having something during the festival?"

" Yes, cool."

" Can I just, euh, do some quick sketches of people?"

"Yeah..."

" ... that when added make another picture?"

" Sounds cool". 

 

Then I received my badge as an artist in the festival. A first. Been a VIP, been a backstage banded guy, even managed a press band once, but this is a first as an artist. coolio. 

So, I found a piece of wood that could fit in my car (2.2*1.2 m),  build my stencils, sprayed my background, wrote my words and painted the face.

Then I took my Black & Decker (c) jigsaw - a tool most useful to make small stuffs, such as shields and swords for the kids, or cut bamboo.
Armed with the saw, I cut the board in 36 +/- equal pieces. It was bloody. The board did not like it. Not one little bit. It eventually gave some characters.
With my boards, looking like Moses coming down his mountain with the tables, I headed towards Shoko.
Then I had to start socializing and asking people I did not know if I could take 5 minutes of their time to quickly draw their faces.
I was rather surprized not facing more refusals. People wer generally happy about it, bringing mates and taking pictures. I had a great day, I met a whole bunch of people, drummers, poets, artisans, beer artists, passionates, travellers, and even Miss Zimbabwe.

Here are the 36 portraits, made with uni-posca on each boards.
Straight paint on paint, no erasing, and no shading + colourfull background... It was tricky and definitively a first for me.
I also learned that the Montana pink is getting powdery when dry and cloak up paint markers.
Sometimes I felt like I nailed my model in only one sets of lines and colours, and some other times I had to use different colours, just to be able to see something.
It also did happen that I just could not get it right enough.
Obviousely because the person was moving, talking, asking questions, chatting to his/her friend, etc. I have to blame the world.

I really had a good day.

Oh and I also got sketched, last line fourth from the left. hat and glasses, surrounded by two charming ladies, that's me by Option.

Slowly during the day I re-assembled them.
To resume, I had a piece of wood, gave it some shades and colours, wrote words of infinite wisdom, sprayed a face on it. Then I washappy. So I chopped the whole thing and used each board to draw a quick face of 36 strangers. I likedthe changes, the dynamism of the work and the different speeds, states of mind and energy needed to work on it.  
Now I have no idea what to do with my 36 plaquettes.