Little Sanyo and the Publisher

A typical visit out in the country, visits from friends, friendly dogs, a woman on a tractor mowing the weeds next to her vineyard. Mountains in a view, the golden light of sunset and somewhere between the fruit tree plantations a gas driven engine to send the sound of an explosion. Talks, drinks, great soup.

But Matteo who together with Michele published my book ‘Stop the Music,’ is also a person who buys this little recorder. You can order the book directly from him. The little Sanyo is not for sale.

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Excursions in and around Casa del Vento

Somewhere near Ravenna, a small river called Montone, acres filled with mutilated fruit trees, wind and clouds and big farm houses, some of them abandoned, some of them family houses, one of them Casa del Vento, home, among other things to Lonktaar.

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masquerade copy

Masquerade is a digital release published on the naucleshg label, curated by Antony Maubert. I recorded it in one go at the studio of Enea Tomei in Rome.

The digital file ia available for 5€.

Rome has a special place in my new Italian existence. Maybe one day I will write about my experiences. I am pretty sure that my Roman days determined the overall atmosphere of Masquerade.

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dear R
Calabria is indeed different once you cross Catanzaro – Lamezia equator
Filippa, Mesoraca and Foresta introduce new names and get as close to ancient with new buildings as possible. Torre Melissa is even closer to New Orleans phantasies then Gioia. and any day may offer Kill the Pig gig in the corner bar – for people who enjoy Soft Cell covers. And there is more of them that you expect. in Roccabernarda it is very easy to get stuck in the streets getting more and more narrow. senso unico turns in cul de sac easily. two cm to the left and maybe three to the right. easy to make a gathering of people to test your driving skills – laughing. a man on the corner may speak polish a bit. there are bars of names such as “nickname”. policemen are socializing. but then it gets flat around Sibari and becomes green to herald Matera – a town of exquisite beauty and spectacular zucchini with garlic and mint (just fry it with garlic and then put in the bowl full of mint for a couple of hours). never go to Potenza.
thanks for all

san calogero

Dear M.
 a few remarks
 1. Angela Bubba, born in Mesoraca, is a young writer. From the words I’ve read about her book, I feel like buying it.
 2. In Torre Melissa you can take a bus to Venice. One of the two footbal teams is called Nuova Torre Melissa
 3. Roccabernarda is full of sad stories. Long ago it had the biggest fair in the south which lasted for days and loads of gypsies came. There is a marching band. One of the footbal teams is called Sporting Rocca.
 4. Sibari was known in the whole world of ancient Greece as a place of lust and luxury. Eventually it disappeared from earth’s surface. The new Sibari was built in the 1960s. 
 5. Apparently there is a place at Matera, where to perform. A friend of mine wrote that the people were super-easy, but the place itself was in a terrible mess. If, however, I would like to play amidst the caves, I should definitely go. I think I’ll try.
 5a. One of these days I will walk up to the house of the marchese and get some mint from the garden.
 6. You missed Crotone, where Pythagoras lived. Nowadays Peppino Vallone is the mayor.
 7. I won’t mention Potenza.
 See you in Summer,
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Dead and Alive


My first idea was to kick out the dead, and go live there myself. But ideas like this don’t involve a lot of neighbors. In this idea I would be in charge, and decide who comes in or not, dead and alive.

I heard a story about cannibalism. A young woman was pregnant. The doctor told her that she was pregnant with twins. A couple of months later she was not pregnant with twins any more. In the fourth or fifth week one of the twins eats the other. It happens often during pregnancy. It made me think of the times when mankind didn’t exist.

Cemeteries get privatised. Walking around on Gioia Tauro cemetery, with the constant roar of harbour works in the background, I thought about death culture, and why it was all so boring and heavy with respect for the dead. In my necropolis, where death gets kicked out, nobody would come to mourn. Every day would be empty, even if the air was pregnant with noises and colors, rumors and lost voices.

Next time I bring a kite.

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