A 9 second clip on what my eye sees in a day, A visual diary type of thing.
Trying my best to attempt a scream of torture for friends project.
The Travel Diary of Oskar Casio
(Year of the MELK)
The summers morning was dreary, A cold spell had rolled into town and I was not in good shape. Overweight and single I had received a fax a few days earlier from an old friend in Africa about paranormal activities that were scaring local witch doctors, possessing animals and turning goats milk into cow milk, I was unsure of the difference but convinced I was needed. I was currently in the middle of my thesis studying time travel, ( Literally catching public buses with a bag full of used watches) but knew I was ahead of time (Since I had put the clocks back three days).
With the slap of the face I was out the door in directions of Auckland International airport with *two pipe in hand and a guide book with african slang. I thumbed it all the way to the planes, now chain-smoking the two pipe outside Auckland international airport I was a nervous wreck to say the least. Checking my wrist that had no watch (I left the bag on the bus), I made ways to the front counter with a paranoid excitement growing inside of me, The outside smoke following me like a stray cat with each step I took. I handed passport and appropriate documents in return a one way ticket to Nairobi, Kenya. Eyes now happily glazed over I looked down at those five letters sitting in my palm, a symphony of *African drums began banging in my hollow cranium.
Making like a urbanized gazelle I made a mad run to the gate. Once checked in I found my seat 43b had been taken hostage by two escaped traveling elephants called Eileen and Erik Vern, I swedged myself in with closed eyes hoping they wouldn’t devour me like the small mountains of plain peanuts by my size tens..12 landless hours past before I awoke with the screech of rubber of African tires, the crackle of overhead speakers combined with the grinding of my neighbouring passengers teeth, crying babies and clicks of pens from east European reporters, I knew it was time to make for my next set of wheels. I was promptly picked up past officials by a large native Kenyan , six foot four with broad menacing shoulders called jetstar (Jetsta for short) named after his favourite two words in English.
Gripping the now suffocating steering wheel Jetsta and myself set in a north by northwest direction towards the cursed Nakoombiyaka caves, in search of a river dwelling beast made from the blood of hate and fear, with skin ripped from the native poison tree called Tapytapy-Cop. The beast was born through the tongues of century old tribesman brought to life by dark full mooned voodoo, I had done years of research only to find its name through old Kenyan scrolls, elders eyes and google chrome.
The beast was called Jausee Melk directly translated meant Juice-Milk. I first came across the idea of the Jausee Melk one afternoons day, I was throwing kicks with some native albanians in the back streets of LA when the glass of peyote came my way. One sip and I was swirling, grasping screaming my way towards a dark, hallowed hole. Only a whiskers breath from the pain pulling me into unconsciousness, all I could see was the light beige twill of my jacket flapping across my face, and with it the musty wine smell that comes with not enough washes. Three days later I woke face down, drenched in milk and soggy cornflakes with a dark chill buried deep in my soul. Months of haunted dreams and restless nights led me to Bonlokot (voodoo chief and janitor), his stories of African priests, teeth and THE MELK…
Jetsta swerved, my head hit the window and I snapped out of my reminiscent day dream. The wet cat stench floated back up my snout and the reality of likely death, and the chill hit my spine once again..
Stay Tuned to read more from… THE GREAT ADVENTURES OF OSKAR CASIO!
*two pipe- A gentlemen’s bong
* African drums-http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pad6BV3jrKk
Note: Full credit goes to Oskar Casio.
The house of BMD.
I had just arrived home from summer break in Asia, poor, injured and not feeling top star. It was mud week and I was returning from a dud job interview miles from home no money in pockets, I started the hike back to my mattress on the floor when I happen to run into BMD. It was casually cruising the pavements covered pinky to thumbs in layers of paint, I had heard whispers through friends and internet that she/he/it had sorted a studio or something similar and presumed it to be a neat little creative space..
We all talked for awhile before being invited for an afternoon paint, I happily agreed totally chuffed! Address in hand I ran home grabbed a couple of pencils,erasers and camera before making ways..Once arriving I was blown away but what I found, Aucklands premium street artists had descended devouring this once plain jane house into a two story piece of art.. It turned out to be a mean little day and was stoaked to meet a whole bunch of like minded creative people and even put my pencils to some use. This was a total rarity for our little super city and Huge Huge props to the collective/team/one and only BMD and all other artists involved.
Keep your fingers clicking, BMD are destined for stardom.. http://bmdisyourfriend.com/