Note to self

Master key - Lousy lock.

Shotgun blowjobs, deadlines and art

I've always imagined laying hidden in a bunker after a nuclear bomb has blasted the crap out of everything on this planet. And years after the explosion, i would open the door and smell the fresh air. This is how i feel today. Liberated from the chains of the final paper.

After being one sad song away from deepthroating the barrel of a shotgun for a bit under a month, things are starting to pick up. I've got a shooting lined up, I'm getting to start my printing process and it feels like there's reason to leave my burrow and get out in the world. Not everything is peachy, win some lose some. But for now, we've won a battle. Let's enjoy it like Napoleon. Because just like him, we don't know shit about what's coming.

In other news, i found a guy who does the kind of things that i dream, or somewhat. It's a bit strange and uncomfortable to see the deranged stuff you dream floating on your screen. Kind of makes you want to ... do nothing and stare for hours. Checked. Here's some of his stuff. I'm not a sculptor, but i can say that his stuff is at least worth watching, if not even buying - if i was ridiculously rich. Rankin style rich. He really is something because i think we can all agree I'm not that big on complimenting people.

Kris Kuksi, ladies and gentlemen:

Wrong. Wronger. Wrongerer

Presedinti si senzatii

In perioada alegerilor ziarele se vand ca painea calda. Si ce vinde mai bine in Romania decat senzationalul? Avand in vedere ca prin intermediul blog-ului am fost contactat de cativa jurnalisti de mare calibru, Ovidiu Zara si Madalina Prudea intre altii, va aduc la cunostinta faptul ca scandalurile cu Dl. Traian Basescu nu ma preocupa. Imaginile semnate de mine din campania 2004 nu arata presedintele lovind vreun personaj.

Pe de alta parte, cu doar foarte putina obiectivitate ati realiza ca este inadmisibil pentru un candidat la presedentie sa faca un asemenea gest, in special in public, in fata a zeci de camere si mii de oameni - si deci foarte probabil imposibil. Nu e o acoperire guvernamentala - pur si simplu evenimentul nu a avut loc. Nu gasiti ca este o coincidenta ciudata faptul ca a reaparut dupa 4 ani acest video, intr-un singur loc, la o calitate proasta si dintr-un singur unghi?

Domnule Zara - ce aveti de impartit cu presedintele nu este problema mea, cum nu este nimic din ce se intampla in politica. Inteleg ca vreti sa publicati articole senzationale, dar aparent articolele cu teme inteligente sunt mai bine vazute. Pentru o clarificare, va rog frumos sa lecturati motto-ul propriului Dumneavoastra blog. Poate ati uitat de ce sunteti jurnaist.

Doamna/Domnisoara Prundea - "nu vrei sa afle lumea adevarul? lasi un om ca el sa ne conduca?". Presa este, din ce stiu, o putere in stat. Daca ati aborda subiecte mai importante si/sau interesante, poate ati reusi sa faceti o schimbare adevarata.

Cand a fost ultima data cand ati publicat un articol despre proiectul de transport ecologic de la Londra, actiunile Greenpeace sau expozitia Titian de la Luvru?

Stiu, stiu, doriti sa aratati adevarata fata a tiranului care ne va conduce sau nu in urmatorii ani. Nu va faceti griji - daca la Facultatea de Drept se puteau cumpara voturi pro-Basescu la 50 de lei, la Gara daca nu ma insel se practica aceeasi metoda pro-Geoana.

Cred ca ar fi bine sa va revizuiti pozitia ca jurnalisti integri si obiectivi si sa va dati seama ca aceste stiri de senzatie ar trebui pastrate in gunoiul ce se intituleaza "Libertatea". Ultima data cand am verificat, EVZ avea niste oarecare standarde, dar observ ca se muleaza destul de bine pe segmentul de piata ocupat de publicatia mentionata anterior.

Arhiva de articole si imagini publicate de mine pe care o detine (ilegal de altfel - conform contractului au dreptul sa imi foloseasca materialele pe o perioada de 3 ani, dupa care intervine dreptul de autor - alt mit urban in spatiul mioritic din ce imi dau eu seama) nu va face obiectul nici unor discutii sau dezbateri pro sau contra Traian Basescu. Va rog frumos sa nu ma mai contactati pentru detalii sau marturisiri senzationale pentru ca ele nu vor avea loc. Apucati-va sa scrieti articole mai cu cap, lasand la o parte vedetele de carton, stirile bomba si masinile de lux. Romania merita jurnalisti mai buni decat voi.

Cu stima,
Radu Tudoroiu

A day out

Some days ago i went to London for the Frieze Festival. It wasn't worth the trip. There was literally shit on a canvas sold. I have to admit that some art is intelligent and worth looking at. But some of it is just plain ridiculous. Not too mention not worth a penny. But here's the good side, some random shots on the day.








Some days ago i went to London for the Frieze Festival. It wasn't worth the trip but here's the good side, some random shots on the day.

Good Times Gone

And it's Sunday. How good. The day God said...not sure what but i bet it was important in the context he said it. So i woke up feeling like seven different kinds of shit after the party. Not hung over. Just tired. And strange. Aaaaaanyways...

Firstly, thanks for inviting me Simon. Happy birthday and... well it's all in the greeting card. Read your Facebook inbox, you got a good news on our previous night's topic.

In other news, i did nothing useful today, except talk, after many years, with somebody i used to know and helped out a little bit, or like to think i tried. I had nothing better to do, so after an omlette, i started to watch movies. Shitty ones. And mushy. some violent. Mostly bad.

Like "License to wed". That, my friends, or people who read this blog because they've got nothing better to do, is a waste of time. It was such a sweet movie, i almost got diabetes by the end of it. Weddings and fights and PMS chick with bad cheesy lines. Damnit. Being useless to humanity has never been more degrading.

But it got me thinking. The movie is shit save for a line:

"This is a non smoking flight but you're alowed to light anything up the minute we land in Jamaica"

Funny.

So yeah, it did get me thinking about being good at what you do. Like movies. Those people were most definitely bad at what they did. They sucked. Really really bad. Morally bankrupt and financially illiterate Americans (i'm a hypocrite here because i fit the bill quite well). There's no point in reading this entry to be honest. But if you got this far, i must confess i am eating Camembert (Kamilla and Denisa know) while typing. Disgusting. But tasty. and if you got this far, i must admit that you were just as bored as i was when i started writing.

PS: the picture has no link to anything. It's just a view from the window of someone i sued to know. Cool view.

Sunday Morning

Yesterday i was loading the film for the trip and put a book on the lens of the camera obscura (yeah - it's still on). I woke up in the morning and opened my eyes in complete pitch black. Something smelled fishy for a moment. Couldn't figure out what didn't seem right but the it hit me... oh yeah. and again... we had houses on the walls.

And somehow i got out of bed, all stiff and cold, thinking about this song.

And i remembered that the night before i left two notes for my housemates downstairs. The first one regarded one of the leaving their socks on the stairs, right in front of the door. How fucking wrong is that. the reply was: "i agree it's not nice, but the stairs would be better if somebody hoovered them". We did. I did. We do. I did.

Second note regarded a small fucked up bed thingy. the ones that you have the lamp on, at the side of your bed. And glasses. And condoms. Might have gone too far there. Still. If you remember the exhibition series, with the falling tv, it's the thing that the tv was falling off. Well, after staying outside since the exhibition (it's been some months, hasn't it?), come rain come shine, one of my housemates decided it's a good idea to take it in the house. It might come in handy.

YES IT MIGHT. IF YOU WANT TO HANG YOURSELF AND NOT SURE IF A CHAIR WILL HOLD YOUR WEIGHT. SO YOU CHOOSE SOMETHING MORE STURDY.

Apart from this, which is really rather dirty, although the person said it had been cleaned, we have a 1970's radio - you know the kind: grey, with two old speakers, with yellow light at the tuning band. the one senile grandmothers listen to - three broken bicycles, 2-3 copies of famous paintings - but not the proper ones, the ones with fucked up frames and wrinkled paper, from that much raining outside - and various other useless shit.

All these items, combined with the regime - not keeping the living room radiator on because it's consuming energy (NO, IT'S MAKING THE FUCKING HOUSE WARM), closing all lights at all times (LOVELY TO LIVE IN A CAVE, RIGHT?), not taking baths because it's too much water spent (I PROBABLY AM THE ONLY ONE WHO ACTUALLY TOOK A BATH - SHOWERS SUCK), and the overall low cost way of living bring us back to...

C O M M U N I S M

Your parents fought for freedom of opinion, for rights and Bob Dylan records. They fought for the abolition of food coupons and KGB/Securitate/Whatever the fuck kind of agency other pitiful countries in the ex-soviet block had. And for what? For bad music, imbecilization of the people and lowering your standards beyond anything communism WAS EVER ABLE TO DO. By choice. Are you fucking kidding me?

People who try to raise the standard of living are not prodigal sons. 2 jars of Uncle Ben's for £2 are not much different than 2 jars of Uncle Ben for £1,60. Imagine that is divided by four. IT'S 10 FUCKING PENNY. You've become so concerned with gathering 10 penny from there, 10 from there that you forgot about the fun of being a student. It's wasting. It's living life. you're like 50 year old people in 20 year old lives. Not even that. My dad is 50, he viciously outranks you at being fun.

This discussion will go on and on and on. But i finish it here, benevolently, stating that my room is Monarchy. I am the Monarch. The radiator will stay on even if i am away because i pay my share of the utilities and don't give a fuck about what you do with your share. Light will be on whenever i feel like it. Because i have a light bulb. Classic.

Break all rules, except the Chairman's

This isn't a post about how to lead your life, neither one that will inspire you. If you're looking for this wrong blog mate. I just finished seeing Lords of Dogtown. Again. Somehow i figured out something. But i'm not gonna tell you. because it amuses me to bits to imagine your confused faces as to what this post is about. It's about nothing. It's about being average. It's about all the bits and pieces that make you, my dear minions, mediocre.

We're an art uni. You see fucked up people 24/7. Gay, punk, emo's, suicidals (they're the fun kind to pick on), housers, finnish people (they are a breed apart - like the martians, but less flying). You get used to it all, all the shit, and the fake nails on guys and the goofy outfits and the superiority and start to see behind it all. Behind the cool glasses and the short skirts - which do provide a good deal of fuel for imagination, i shit you not - you can see mediocrity. Lurking around corners. Hiding in your purse and pissing on your chips when you ain't looking.

There are people, in our uni and out of it, that don't have ONE - SINGLE - CLUE about what they are doing. And why. They're given chances that other people don't even dream of, and they fail miserably retaining their own shallow happiness, bathing in mediocrity. Half of the people i see every day have been given chances that are not even close to their merit. Somehow settling for less, living as a piece of meat with eyes seems to be a satisfying status. How distasteful.

And here to prove that there's two sides to the coin, there are the finnish people in our course. I don't particularly like anyone just because i can't be asked to care about what you think. But finnish people i appreciate. They know why they came here and they always, without exception, live up to the standards. There is a number of small non - finnish people who i consider not brainless, but naming one or two would be more than i can for one day. Settle for the fact that out of all the students at photo there's a ... 6% chance it might be you. But there's a 94% that it might not, which, if i know my maths right - is bigger.

Me? I'm a prick. But i'm one of those who probably shoots better than you. One of them who, after finishing uni, won't be shooting weddings because they pay good money.

And you know what separates the mediocre from the elite? Desire. Excess. Balance. The Rush. Proper parties. Remember the Capa soldier? The elite wants the minutes of fame. The ones that getting a shot like that gives you. Leibowitz's Lennon. Erwitt's Guevara. The Holy Grail of photography. Walking around with a Leica and not having a care in the world, knowing that you're among the best. Walking into your exhibition and people congratulating you. Driving by billboards that you shot. This is what the elite wants.

The mediocre? Somebody's got to shoot weddings as well, don't they?

PS: i am the Chairman and these are my rules. Arrogant, isn't it?

End of it

Well recent developments kinda changed my grand total, adding a bunch of minuses which tilted the scales. Bollocks.