Archives for category: DISCOVERIES

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STOP & SEARCHWhat have you learned?

I have learned that I know nothing! Okay no, I know some things. But I have learned that there is more to know than I can ever know.
I was aware that the world and the universe and all it contains is bigger and more diverse than I can actually imagine. Detecting other humans and their motivations/drives/realities as well as the world we inhabit on behalf of this blog has exposed me to diversity from a new perspective.

I read the article above where science Detectives are exploring and picking apart the ultimate basics of existence to see how we exist, maybe get a hint as to why as well. They think time might run backwards. Mind blowing.

I have learned to accept that I can never fully appreciate and never thoroughly understand every perspective of all realities but that it makes them no less valid. I have learned that being open to the fact they exist is the best way to be a Detective.

I have learned that exploring is the best way to appreciate the diversity as best as I possibly can!

The search is never over// Signing Out// Identity Detective (England)


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homo desperatus – Dries Verhoeven

Lampedusa, Aleppo, Syrian refugees, Fukushima’s nuclear reactor, the parliament buildings in Kiev, a drug clinic in Germany, a collapsed clothing factory in Bangladesh. Childprostitution, homophobia, but also disappaering islands in the pacific, melting glaciers and icecaps and other natural disasters caused by the global climate change….

In Homo Desperatus 44 contemporary disaster zones and humanitarian crises are reconstructed. Each display case is inhabited by an ant colony, about 70.000 ants in total. They populate the places of our human catastrophes.

Ants, like no other animal, know how to cope with disasters. When a nest collapses, they know precisely how to escape from that adversity within a fraction of a second. The individual ant offers itself for the well being of his kind. It drowns itself to build a bridge for the group. When it is sick its congeners bring it to a burial ground to avoid contamination.
An artificial “Sun” moves slowly from east to west through the room and shines on the different locations. The moment a location is lit, a finger-camera switches on, and gives the spot one minute of attention. The video-footage is projected live on screen.

With his installation Dutch visual artist/ theatremaker Dries Verhoeven challenges us to look at the human species.
How do we perceive disasters? And how does the suffering of the individual relate to the continuing existence of the population?
He allows the visitor zoom in and out between analytical distance – such as that of a laboratory – and emotional affection.

 homo desperatus

Signing out.//Identity Detective (Germany)

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Lorraine Loots ‘Postcards for Ants’

Less IS possible!

But it in no way means easier.

Beauty and care in detail.

Less can be more, Signing Out//Identity Detective (England)

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When I do my groceries, I often get paralyzed with fear. Fear of the supermarket cashiers. I know, it is totally irrational. But what can I do about it? Every time I put some groceries wrapped in plastic, with extra layers of plastic inside of it – let’s say a box of individually wrapped cookies – on the conveyor belt, I get sweaty hands. With an elevated pulse I expect the cashier to reprimand me in front of all the others….

You, wannabe green conscious consumer, yes YOU.. You know, that you are destroying the planet?“

To be honest, he/she would be totally entitled to say these kind of things! Then how often do I see myself putting cardboard, cellophane, and throwaway plastic trays on the conveyor belt?

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At the height of my panic attacks, a miracle suddenly happened… A light at the end of the tunnel….

They opened the Original Unverpackt (the name translates to “Original Unpackaged”) not too far away from my home!! A novel shop that has dispensed entirely with disposable packaging. Granted, the term “supermarket” might be a little grandiose for this small but tightly packed store, but the concept’s legs are as long as the store’s frontage is narrow.


Signing out.//Identity Detective (Germany)

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MUCHOS SOMOS – Pablo Neruda
(scroll down for English translation)

De tantos hombres que soy, que somos,
no puedo encontrar a ninguno:
se me pierden bajo la ropa,
se fueron a otra ciudad.

Cuando todo está preparado
para mostrarme inteligente
el tonto que llevo escondido
se toma la palabra en mi boca.

Otras veces me duermo en medio
de la sociedad distinguida
y cuando busco en mí al valiente,
un cobarde que no conozco
corre a tomar con mi esqueleto
mil deliciosas precauciones.

Cuando arde una casa estimada
en vez del bombero que llamo
se precipita el incendiario
y ése soy yo. No tengo arreglo.
Qué debo hacer para escogerme?

Cómo puedo rehabilitarme?
Todos los libros que leo
celebran héroes refulgentes
siempre seguros de sí mismos:
me muero de envidia por ellos,
en los filmes de vientos y balas
me quedo envidiando al jinete,
me quedo admirando al caballo.

Pero cuando pido al intrépido
me sale el viejo perezoso,
y así yo no sé quién soy,
no sé cuántos soy o seremos.
Me gustaría tocar un timbre
y sacar el mí verdadero
porque si yo me necesito
no debo desaparecerme.

Mientras escribo estoy ausente
y cuando vuelvo ya he partido:
voy a ver si a las otras gentes
les pasa lo que a mí me pasa,
si son tantos como soy yo,
si se parecen a sí mismos
y cuando lo haya averiguado
voy a aprender tan bien las cosas
que para explicar mis problemas
les hablaré de geografía.


Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.

When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep concealed on my person
takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.

On other occasions, I am dozing in the midst
of people of some distinction,
and when I summon my courageous self,
a coward completely unknown to me
swaddles my poor skeleton
in a thousand tiny reservations.

When a stately home bursts into flames,
instead of the fireman I summon,
an arsonist bursts on the scene,
and he is I. There is nothing I can do.
What must I do to distinguish myself?

How can I put myself together?
All the books I read
lionize dazzling hero figures,
brimming with self-assurance.
I die with envy of them;
and, in films where bullets fly on the wind,
I am left in envy of the cowboys,
left admiring even the horses.

But when I call upon my dashing being,
out comes the same lazy old self,
and so I never know just who I am,
nor how many I am, nor who we will be being.
I would like to be able to touch a bell
and call up my real self, the true me,
because if I really need my proper self,
I must not allow myself to disappear.

While I am writing, I am far away;
and when I come back, I have already left.
I should like to see if the same thing happens
to other people as it does to me,
to see if as many people are as I am,
and if they seem the same way to themselves.
When this problem has been thoroughly explored,
I am going to school myself so well in things
that, when I try to explain my problems,
I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.

Signing out.//Identity Detective (Germany)

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What’s the difference between all the others and me?

‘As she’s experimenting with art, Smith also experiments with different selves. And yet, this is not at all like the myth of Sylvia Plath painfully shedding her false selves until she reached an impasse that could only end in suicide.

Smith (who is, anyway, making her own myth) is trying on different selves, putting them on and taking them off, seeing how they suit her. It is life as a costume drama.’ p. 232. Samantha Ellis on Patti Smith’s memoir Just Kids, taken from How to be a Heroine.

I read this passage just yesterday, and it struck a chord. Samantha Ellis’ own memoir is a personal reflection of the way heroines in literature have influenced her throughout her childhood, teenage years and adulthood. In times of need she reached for the familiar romance and drama of Cathy in Wuthering Heights, and as a teenager consciously tried to emulate the strength and humour of Lizzy Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. 

Recently I closely analysed some of Plath’s poetry, where she is consistently concerned with being true to one’s self. Plath also wrote about the struggle of being honest, the personal conflict of trying to align the self with societies expectation.

The way Ellis writes about trying on different selves on a day to day basis struck me because I feel like that is what I do myself. I got a new understanding of how people interact after reading The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life by Irving Goffman. His theory orchestrates society as a collectively understood performance, from the basic decision of what to wear to present your gender, all the way through to how we interact differently with someone purely because they are a ‘Dr.’

Like Ellis, books hugely impact the way I consider myself, and the way I think about what society demands. It demands a more critical outlook, on the way I choose to present myself and interact with others, and why others respond in the ways that they do.

So far, I don’t really have an answer to what the difference is between the others and me. I don’t think I ever will, because I am not entirely settled on what suits me yet. I’ll keep reading, and taking inspiration here and there. Most of all, I’ll keep observing, as I rather suspect that all the others are completely different too…

Signing Out// Identity Detective (England)


7:00 am Monday morning You’re Driving Me Crazy!


Almost toppling over a pair of dirty socks and a boxer lying in front of the bathroom door, I notice my flatmate is already awake. A bit annoyed, I open the door and discover, that my flatmate also already used toilet, shower and sink, then: 1. toilet paper is untraceable, 2. unexplainable puddles of water are on the floor in front of the shower, 3. stubble hairs are all over the sink.

Phew… I already told him a thousand times: first I tried ‘the funny way’ (where´s the toilet paper, you´re playing mummy?), then with friendly reminders (I would also like to use some toilet paper in the morning), then notes in the bathroom (leave toilet paper in toilet paper holder!!), then writing messages (can´t find toilet paper, that is very inconvenient). But this morning, he makes my blood boil. I start screaming. And I know, I am overreacting, as I hear the words `never´, `always´, `every time´ coming out of my mouth extremely loud.

Evidently, these problems are no big problems. I could have handled it, like I did before: find another roll of toilet paper, tell him that it bothers me and that´s it. But this time, I explode.

The diagnose is clear: “social allergy.” As with physical allergens, the first exposure produces a small negative reaction, but each subsequent contact increases sensitivity. That, Dr. Michael Cunningham says, is why people can explode over what seem like tiny infractions. The first wet towel on the bathroom floor is mildly irritating; the hundredth can unleash a hypersensitive reaction.

My behaviour is also very normal. The way allergic people react to peanuts, I react to my flatmate.

8:00 am Monday morning Upps.. Sorry


Still puffed-up with anger I get on my bike and start pedalling. In an attempt to ventilate my emotions, I decide to ride on the road, instead of the bicycle lane. To be even faster I jump over the red light. Thinking that nobody noticed me…. Untill an angry driver honks and I can clearly hear someone screaming: you annoying bloody ciclist, get off yer bike!!”.

Signing out.//Identity Detective (Germany)

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Maybe we can make it work?

Signing out.//Identity Detective (Germany)

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Does money make the world go round?

Signing out.//Identity Detective (Germany)