Møvin †

Friends, Im packing up and heading over to wordpress -

You can find me at www.edwardeke.wordpress.com
starting with a new secret weather vol4

Stay happy,

ee

Born on this day, 1906 - S.B

Go where never before
No sooner there than there always
No matter where never before
No sooner there than there always
- 1988








So things may change
No answer
End
No answer
I may choke
No answer
Sink
No answer
Sully the mud no more
No answer
The dark
No answer
Trouble the peace no more
No answer
The silence
No answer
Die
No answer
DIE screams I MAY DIE screams I SHALL DIE screams
Good

- How it is, 1964

Born on 9th March - Samuel Barber

" Dear Mother: I have written to tell you my worrying secret. Now don’t cry when you read it because it is neither yours nor my fault. I suppose I will have to tell it now, without any nonsense. To begin with I was not meant to be an athlete. I was meant to be a composer, and will be I’m sure. I’ll ask you one more thing .—Don’t ask me to try to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football.—Please—Sometimes I’ve been worrying about this so much that it makes me mad (not very). " Aged 9.

long live the new flesh

On my way back from Germany i sat on the train with a bottle of cava, a large pretzel and a quarter bottle of cheap vodka that i had bought at a U-bahn stop the night before. I began to write about my trip, pages of the stuff, feverishly, driving pen and oiled pretzel salt into the page, dribbling cocktail with a smile and letting my head deafen and wool itself as the train flashed in and out of tunnels. I made a solid document of my travels from berlin, down into bavaria and ending by the lakes. It was written on the last pages of a notebook, the last blank pages of a book on witchcraft, and on the tissue paper that the wine had been wrapped in.

Somewhere between Kings Cross and my bed the pages were lost. Of course these mislaid pages were mesmerising, vital nuggets of wild, transcendent literature completely reinventing all written matter and changing the course of the universe for good BUT they are lost, gone forever. So instead, i am going to be brief.

And say this:

Of all the films that i saw at the Berlin Film Festival, the one that i enjoyed the most (and that the cineastes hated) was 'Long Live the New Flesh' by Nicolas Provost. Try and seek it out. It will, how do you say, fuck you up.

Also, try and track down 'Geliebt' by Jan Soldat - a documentary love story...between man and dog. its pretty colourful.

I will be back here shortly.

Packing to Secret Weather no.3

I woke early this morning. I raised the blinds and turned on the radio. I considered going for a run. The street below was quiet and in the process of dawn; slow and stuck in its daily routine. I stood at the window letting the radiator burn at my legs. A lady on her way somewhere looked up as a first hint of snow began to fall. Dvorak's 'Song to the Moon' started up in the room. From the opposite direction a lone runner was en route to cross paths with the lady, who had now stopped and held out her hand to feel the drifting flakes. The runner crossed the road under my window. Lycra - rubber - shine hood - velcro leg - sweat relief 2050xk; he had splashed out. "I'm not that kind of runner", i said aloud.

Instead i sat in my kitchen and listened for the kettle to boil on the hob. When it boils the steam blows through a small whistle shaped as a bird. It takes about 5 minutes and i make myself a strong black Kenyan coffee - taylors of harrogate, cheap and good. I turned on the radio in the kitchen and listened to a man complain about the possibility of possibly running out of road grit, possibly. I yawned and switched it off and decided i should pack for my trip to Berlin - i am leaving at 5 tomorrow morning.I relish the thought of being away, if only for a couple of weeks.

I wanted to pack light so i slumped on the bed and eye up various clothes laying about. Some boots, 2 pairs of trousers, shirts, jackets. Into my rucksack i threw a camera, notepad, a discman and a packet of mini cuban cigars that i found on my table (left by my friend charlie - he wanted to talk 'oil' after a documentary he had seen, i guess he thought cigars were appropriate) they could work as a gift or ice breaker, i thought. I put in a small pile of books i planned on taking with me: Seamus Heany's '66-87 Poems'; 'The selected letters of Rimbaud'; Arthur Miller's 'Tropic of cancer'; and a biography on Brecht, who is buried in Berlin. On the side, on top of the jiffy bag he had sent it in, i saw my friend Tom Chivers' new collection ' How to build a city' - i threw that in the bag and strung it up.

I took a walk - the street was busier now and schoolchild shaped balls of woolen tottered with satchels and folders along the street towards the local primary. I skirt the pond to avoid any screeching and walk the back alleys in silence. I think about my 9 hour train journey via paris. I think about the route out of Paris, past Reims, through the Ardennes and up towards north east germany. I think about murnau's films and about walking to other countries on foot. Breaking the silence i find myself diving into a shop to avoid a guy who thinks that i owe him money - i don't owe him money but he is unable to shake off the belief that i owe him at least something. I carry on in silence, walking in the light settle of snow and relish the thought of being away - if only for a couple of weeks.


SECRET WEATHER no.3 (Berlin film festival edition)

Listen:

1.Bobby Vee - Tears on my pillow
2.Gingirikani marimba band - Malaika
3.Neubauten - Ich Hatte Ein Wort
4.Syd Barrett - Love you
5.A place to bury strangers - I know il see you
6.B.J.M - Going to hell
7.Keb Mo - Im so lonesome
8.Tom Waits - Im still here
9.Lonyo - Summer of Love
DOWNLOAD HERE

Watch:

UZAK by Nuri Bilge Ceylan - HERE

and

Dog Tooth by Yorgos Lanthimos - HERE


Read:

Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux

and

How to Build a City by Tom Chivers

BUY IT HERE

Born on 16th January - Susan Sontag

Born today in 1933. Susan Sontag: great writer, essayist, theorist, activist.
She died in 2004.
Three great moments:
1.She wrote at length on photography and the image, about how the camera has affected the human race and our moral codes, in 'On Photograpghy'. BUY IT HERE

2.She directed 'Waiting for Godot' in Sarajevo during the Bosnian war.

3.She wrote brilliantly about the work of Antonin Artaud. BUY IT HERE


Great essay on 100 years of cinema - written in 1995.
A Century of Cinema



"To take a photograph is to participate in another person's mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time's relentless melt. "

"The only interesting answers are those that destroy the questions. "

"Existence is no more than the precarious attainment of relevance in an intensely mobile flux of past, present, and future. "

"I envy paranoids; they actually feel people are paying attention to them."