Casa Robino

So in the overwhelming emotional tornado that hit me a few days before I left I forgot to leave my farewell to all of you in the book. I tried to explain how I felt to Robin Heather and Marc at the Vrouw but we were drunk of course, so I want to give everyone a proper thank you and goodbye message.Let's make it a dramatic goodbye why don't we. We all know how I love those... so here we go.

I hitched several modes of transport during my time in Croatia: a rusty tractor, a Tito era car without numberplates, a Cadillac with NYC number plates, a leather seat Mercedes, a little fishing boat, a couple of scooters and an old tourist ship.

One month ago a friend and housemate committed suicide. You guys would have liked him. On the first week of uni he stripped naked and ran around our house for no apparent reason other than to make us laugh. I miss him every day. His death has shaken the very foundations of my happiness, and for those of you who know me you will understand that happiness is who i am not just something i feel.

You're in Morocco with your pasta madre. You've got friends - friends are easy to make down here - but they probably only have a toaster oven in their kitchen. That might suffice for a tiny loaf, but just around the corner, right in your neighborhood, is a magical building that's not only more appropriate for family-sized breads, but also much more social, more connecting.

The Moroccan public oven.

This place is great! And it couldn't exist without the draw of all the local families - truly a bastion of the community.

Never have I really lived with an animal so closely and with so much love as with our kitten, aka "salami, fuck off and die". With her around it is easy to get sentimental.

In case you've made it to Schijnheilig Galerie recently, you've seen two of my new drawings from the past week. In case not, you've seen various numbers of them floating around the casa. Normally, I don't put a price tag on such work, but lately, since I'm broke and push comes to shove, I am.

Somewhere in Bolivia between Cochabamba and Sucre

When I get out of the car, I see nobody on the place, is that a ghost village? I ask a kid; ¿Que pasa aca? He tells me to go to the cemetery. Sure! now I remember, today is "dia de todos los santos". We have it also in France. Over there it is a boring rainy day where you put some expensive flowers on graveyards.

I got some pasta madre from Robin in Vicenza. It has now spent a week in my pannier, without refrigeration, in a bath of olive oil in a jar, several times. I revived it in Casale, I revived it in Lyon, and I revived it in Barcelona. It seems as long as it stays wet it can live! It is always a difficult time, waiting to see if it will grow, but it always does! Hooray!
I love making bread, I even love having bread dough mixed with the other dirt on my clothing.
I love feeding people fresh home-made bread, it's one of the best gifts in the world.

Where is Casale Monferrato, you may ask? http://serydarth.wordpress.com

Lightfoot Stamp Well, it's in the beautiful north of Italy, but it doesn't really matter. There are a lot of travelers there, volunteers coming and going, so I spent the time to make a box, added some brief guidelines, left a few letters in it, and there it is. Another Lightfoot box in operation.

You can too!