PIRACANGA FREEDOM?

M/L ARTSPACE PRESENTS: PIRACANGA FREEDOM?

 

August 2, 2014, TwoHOTEL, Piracanga Beach, Bahia, Brazil

 

 

 

 

Human civilization is involved in an expansion of awareness; a Culture is developing where Humanity, Art, Science and Spirituality are meeting and embracing one another. Piracanga would like to contribute to this process by being a Center and Eco Village where people come together to learn, live, research, experience, exchange and celebrate life. A community that shares dreams, values and a spiritual search; at a space in nature, having sustainable objectives, where we grow together and in cooperation, respecting individualities and celebrating diversity.

 

—Centro para Desenvolvimento Humano e Ecovillage Piracanga

 

The house and furniture were build within the very short timespan of three weeks by Fabian Marti with the help of a carpenter and two local workers. For the lack of an electrical supply only basic tools were used. […] The architecture, furniture and ceramic tableware are all designed and handmade by the artist and follow his conceptual line.

 

—TwoHOTEL

 

 

 

IT started as a sharp pain on my toe, like I had a splinter. […] I sat on a chair and he began to remove it, using a small needle, the important element of the 'surgery' being not to burst the 'white bag'. That's because these are where the worm lays its eggs. […] I suspected what I'd been told shortly after we first arrived here - that I had a bicho de pe, a small worm that grows in your foot, comes from the sand and is spread usually by animals. […] Footnote (pardon the pun): Two days after this incident I got ANOTHER staph infection - on my knee!

 

—http://www.abramsfamilyworldtravel.com/2011/04/piracanga-knocked-out-by-a-worm.html

 

I can well understand why children love sand.

 

 

—Unknown

 

 

Sweet rotten odeur saturated the stagnant heat behind the sand castle ruins, coming from something the ocean had washed ashore. All day long she had followed her nose trying to find this thing. The scent was driving her hot vulgarly tanned body through the heat, not shimmering from coconut oil but existential sweat. She would have never imagined being able to reach that shade. Her bikini long gone, swallowed by the sea, like all the other stuff they had burnt and ripped into pieces, declared useless. Another M/L show, this time on the beach, their fresh-air fund for this summer, that was the plan. Ice cubes clanking in their fancied drinks. Why did things turn out so differently? She didn't notice how thursty she was at this point but she knew well what she was looking for, something that could by her off, set her free. A piece of grey amber, an unforeseen present from the submarine gardens that would set her free from the prison she had chosen herself. She wasn't the only one trying to find it and it was just a matter of time that… It was only a few days ago when they had crashed their phones, had cut their creditcards into pieces. One night, only a few days earlier – but days felt like weeks in the place, and weeks like years – shortly after they had ran out of canned food and had to start feeding from jelly fish and sea weed, they had sat on the fire in the middle of a big formation of seashells they had gathered and layed out as "¿SRSLY?" knowing that the chances of any plane ever crossing this no man's land and spotting this silent scream would tend to 0. One of the seashells, all of a sudden had started to wiggle and then move towards the fire just to stop right infront of the two girls, which were shivering from fear, looking at each other with an incredulous expression on their pale faces. The seashell moved up a bit and under it something that appeared to be a hermit crab came out. They breathed out their relieve. But then the openend it's human like eyes, and stared at the girls. With a supernatural all-pervading voice, god like, a voice buzzing inside their brains, coming from all directions the crab started to speak.

 

—Phillip Zach

 

 

 

 

 

Tiago Una "Untitled" 2014, ink on paper

 

Tiago Una "Untitled" 2014, ink on paper

Thiago Una "Untitled" 2014, ink on paper

Tiago Una "Untitled" 2014, ink on paper

Geraldine Belmont "Wargasm" 2002, embroidery on cloth

Rahani, "Untitiled" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "plant/pussy?" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Rita Ackermann "Untiled" 2011, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "smell the glove" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "is this it" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "leisure lips" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "soothing earth" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "Deep in" 2014, watercolors on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "Trapped" 2014, watercolors on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "Trapped" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "Deep out" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "leaking lips I" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "leaking lips II" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "leaking lips III" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Lena Henke "leaking lips IV" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "cold cuts" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "cold cuts" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "cold cuts" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "cold cuts" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "cold cuts" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper

Marie Karlberg "cold cuts" 2014, watercolor on recycled paper