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October 29th, 2009

A beautiful Monster. Not an easily pleased reader, I remember being in an allergic state, on the verge of absolute nausea: the book I had brought with me on a rainy holiday turned out to be a grave disappointment. Even worse, I felt that this book tried to expose me, to reveal the fact that I was only capable of digesting a handful of crumbs which remotely resembled dialogue, a plot, tension. It was about a girl and a boy. I was fourteen and realized that most books I loved to read were, in a way, about a girl and a boy. Just not as if they were cut out from cardboard and presented to me as living and breathing creatures. I felt deceived. Part of me kept defending the book though, as if the story had been shaped like that against its will. It simply had been the victim of a bad translation, so to speak. Its author and me were both Dutch, and I realized that, unlike the object of my irritation, my mother tongue is not constructed from bricks or crumbs but this language has a great elasticity and interesting unpredictability. Like a shy snake, a beautiful monster. I put the book away and did not torture myself by remembering it. The feeling of betrayal, however, I vividly recall now and then. I will put it simply: I have a passion for language. My work circles around it: spoken, written, decoded, spit out, nested, smooth, aggressive. It comes to me in everyday life and in dreams, where it has transformed into a physicality: waking up then leaves me somewhat melangolic and with a slight sense of loss. It comes to me in fragments from sources beyond my control, it comes to me in commercials, song lyrics, the beautiful spelling mistakes in a note from my non-Dutch lover. My relationship with spoken languages is a rocky one: in moments of shyness words can completely fail me, as if their meaning has unattached itself and ran for cover into a deserted little spot in the back of my mind. At these moments I realize I am totally language's bitch: she owns me.

June 14th, 2009

So I have been wondering about 'punk' lately. A tag, a flavor, a dusty diamond? The reason for my pondering was a question. I was asked to take part in a legitimate parasitic act of love: to react on the work of a an established painter and performance artist. She completely stole my heart with her paintings, where strokes of paint mated like snakes and built portraits, landscapes: monochromes vacationing. The outlines of a definition. I watched performances she had done with musicians, ploughing through ideas and destruction. There is something punk in a certain approach, an undefinedness from which someone breaks down a border and truly creates. BUT! Wait. Isn't that immer the case with art? Formulaic art is a contradictio in terminis, yeah? The poor artist always has to start from scratch, and from that genesis on he or she will be confined to permanent scratch. The ueber romantic who is me likes to state way too often that 'you always end up emptyhanded' as an artist. There is no knowledge to gain, no empire to build. Well, that doesn't keep us from trying though. I have almost built up a kingdom, and I am a king with two empty hands and a nervous grin - three-chord-punk is not necessarily punk. What is shown on the music entertainment hollow channels is a disguised spasm of capitalism. Punk=autonomy? Punk=the realization-brought-into-action of the relevance of an autonomous state of creativity, from which the kingdom can be built from scratch in order to remain a vital unit of permanent scratch? Maybe. I will think a bit more about it. After some time a satisfying clue will probably display itself in an understandable language through foreign and friendly tongues.....

March 19th, 2009
Somebody told me once how I was always praising other people: she was so sympathetic, and he really genuinely was such a great and honest guy. I remembered the words of a million dollar making blonde actress, smiling colyly, 'I like being nice to people' in her slight southern drawl. On the eve of a global and spiritual upheaval which will redefine the color of blind greed my thoughts circle around this 'being nice to people.' I have come across an atmosphere which is a differentiation of a dominant money making system. The esthetics are being filtered and embraced but a firm basic construction is totally absent. So the dance of hollow gestures is danced every single fucking day. I am so sick of it. Every moment, minute, half hour interaction means pushing oneself into the appropriate position of power: subordinate, pedagogue, floorfiller. And then the little dance starts...... with a bit of luck it is over quickly and without too much pain, but mostly it turns into an act of manifesting authority. And some more. And ten minutes later again. We are all clueless, ok! But the cool people don't try to cover it up. I will raise the torch of Being Nice To People and carry it with me, on my way, in the space, in talks, travelling, working. Because fuck this annoying sandbox playground kindergarten thing, please. There's work to be done.

Nov 21st, 2008
Been in the real world for about a year now. She is a mom, you can tell by looking at her face and body that she was not born for an easy life. First I was annoyed by the way she took up space. Different takes on the appearance. On raising a child. On work ethics. What an idiot I was. To be continued.

Nov 9th, 2008
Huh? I've been collecting strong statements lately. Coming from loved ones they are impossible not to wrap myself around and feel their warmth, the smoldering ashes. The strong guys (m/f) produce emotionally driven and sculpted statements that are basically an invitation to come close to who they are and allow me to gently touch their vulnerabilities and anger, shyly exposed in front of them. We share our knowledge and drink the wisdom. Some are firmly based in their field of interest, some are leaping from stone to slippery stone in a muddy river. I ought to be at the market right now, and browse through fabric stands in search for a few meters of cotton, off-white and textured. After I bring the cotton home in plastic bags I cut it in rectangles, and put them on my wooden floor. Then I will mix three colors of acrylic paint: a decent amount of burnt umber, red and a puddle of black. With a wide brush I will write the following onto the fabric: THEY HATE ART and THEY WON'T, BUT EXPECT US TO GIVE IT UP and SEE IT IN PERSPECTIVE. I will hang these banners from the balcony and let them float in the wind and they will set the marks for me to follow, air, air, knowledge and shy wisdom.

Oct 7th, 2008

The Everything is in music. How patheticfuckingly true. What was it again? True and pure are contradictory? Contradictatorial. Living the smalltown life means having to be prepared for sudden get-togethers: I cut from scene to scene, talking maillots one minute, chewing on shii-take in smoking-ban challenging bar the next. The people stick like gum on the vibrating, slow party scene, while their children grow and seasons morph into unclear planes of stretched states of weather and temperature. I wonder what the earth is exhaling now. It seems to be holding back dramatically..... You've got to pull it inside you, and make it crumble. Sometimes I wish I was a teacher. Earthlings can use some education on how to be less petty, slanty-eyed, parasitic, jealous, closed off, putty filled halo carrying persons who point their fingers faster than I can type. But I, alien, suspect that all that is part of living life too, small- or hugetown. Megatown. Gigatown. Gigopolis. Da Life In Da Roes In Gigopolis, #1. Now I quit this text.

May 22th, 2008

I just got back from a rehearsal/soundcheck at a former factory, where tomorrow night we will put pieces of a puzzle together and bridge the gap that has been binging and purging, expanding and slimming down since the end of last year. Our first gig since the birth of the twins! The rock solid basis we have built over the past years turned out to be crunchy, roadblocks here and there, but beaming with life and truthful intentions. We drank Jupiler and I felt immediately drunk after one tiny baby bottle of the sweet beer. Soundchecks can be awkward with too much other entities in the room, at one point we had to ask them to leave but after a while they slowly crawled back inside. A girl with pink hair, a guy who told me he liked my guitar playing and then made a reference to Kim Deal, and we were sweating and trying to fabricate a playlist. The new one? Not the new one? I love the new one. It could be rock and roll as hell. More shit to deal with tomorrow, I like those last bits that are like dust flakes or grains of sand you pick up from the floor, and just before you throw them gently in the garbage you watch the clean, empty space on the floor in a split second. I will have to buy a thousand guitar picks tomorrow, obviously they have all vanished..... Gam went to feed the twins and I walked home along the river, on the wrong side of the road and the cyclists blinded me with their lights. I still, still, still have a hot trashy love connection with this strange town. Mud beer town....

March 24th, 2008
Rock Dreams
. Two days ago one of my dear friends alluded to the fact that we are living in a fast time, not always able to keep up with the pace of change. I agree. No one is a race horse. Yesterday I found myself celebrating the slowness of painting during a telephone call. I think painting, like sex, is an act close to the actual stopping of time. Years ago, when The Skills had not quite taken on their present shape (we had just met and explored the early stage of a careful friendship) we were drawn closer during our visit to a city that had transformed into a themepark: Art As A Market For The Masses!!!! (No dancing allowed.) I experienced AAAMFTM as a cycle of hasty walks to the city hotspots, balancing my desire for drifting away with the wish to find moments of socially enhanced fun, with or without downing a modest amount of wodka. I tried to dedicate every fucking second of being there to something within the frame of being the visitor, the focused one, the studious one, the shy one. So much to see and only so many seconds left..... until my future bandmate let me in on a little wisdom: she rebelled against the agressive Fast. Sometimes a human needs time to think. To decide. To take one step to the left instead of running forward like a cartoon tornado. We sat down and ate the olives and bread (o so biblical a connotation) we had bought at a Turkish supermarket. So yeah, she won me over. And this little yet significant moment stayed with me all those years, while the memories of the big-bold-gestures at AAAMFTM have become pale and static. Art is everyday, every moment, every second. Fast, slow, the future, present and Past. Kissy!

December 31st, 2007

10:37 and 10:38 pm, Rotterdam.

November 30th, 2007

And as the days get shorter, the two Fruits Of Love get bigger... the F.O.L. are in someone's womb, untouchable for now and only visible with the help of electronic devices or our imagination, but they are present and very much loved, already. In my earlier days I feared that the cycle of life would somehow fail to adress me, but now I know I will be part of it, be it as a 'super auntie', or 'mommy and daddy's best friend'. I like both the titles. I want them made into a gold necklace so I'll be able to show the world that I, too, matter. Bling!

september 29th, 2007

ugly betty?
betty ford?
bette davis?
bettie serveert?
beth ditto?
sarah bettens?
betty bodenhausen?
betty de buck?

january 24th, 2007
'Or is that one of your little pop cultureferences that i don't get because i'm a vengeance --' is one of my favourite quotes ever. it's taken from an episode of a vampire infected show: the moment when vengeance demon A starts expressing her irony towards The Buffster, and the moment she describes herself she gets decapitated. spicy. that show always had a good pace and good timing. when i was little i never believed in sinterklaas, because my parents explained that he was a big fake and there was no way that he could ride the rooftops on his horse and throw presents throught the chimneys. so there i was, a five year old trying to convince her classmates and school teacher that it was all a lie, and i expected my teacher to back me up but all she did was trying to convince me that i was the one talking shit. but somehow i do believe in buffy, and if i had enough money i'd book a ticket to sunnydale* and get her to be my best friend. all i'd have to do is look helpless and dark and not too sexy (never outshine the heroine!) - well, i can totally do that. and i kick ass at 'little pop culture references', although my knowledge had probably become weird, since i'm out of cable tv. i'll have to rely on my memory and hollywood-celebrity-blogs but that's a vortex i'll gladly surrender myself to! see: all grown up, now waiting patiently for the big 3 and watch the sword coming down onto my skull. yee-hah!

*pre-apocalyptic sunnydale, somewhere around season IV - V.

december 18th, 2006
after i got stuck in a muddy part of town -the microcosmos of bars, broken up relationships, too much red wine, the art of unsuccesful courtship, recycling the past and craving gossip for lunch- i managed to climb out of this puddle of sadness and started cleaning my boots. i don't need that crap. with a lovely friend i escaped to paris (the city, not the "heiress"/"american princess" -so not hot enough for me) where the, like, bestest band of the friggin' world, like, played and stuff. there was a hot dude who made a sound with his guitar and this chick with the golden dress totally rocked. hott! anyway, the last song almost made me cry. i love you sonic youth. and that city that begins with a p. from now on, i'll try to avoid the bad things in life and be a good girl!

november 14th, 2006
some words from someone who's been living under a blanket the past years (that would be me, fashionably old wanna-be rock star -not familiar with the internet and its miracles): i've been trying to work on a myspace thingy for the skills (www.myspace.com/skillsrock) but i can't seem to get it right. it's a very burgerlijk system anyway because they want you to make friends and be happy and you're not allowed to put images of naked body parts on your account. or maybe if you pixellate them? like square dicks ('n haircuts---it's a reference to a song that has to be written yet and will partly be done in antwerp).....-sigh- i miss the summer already. o well. by the way, what's UP with these young, pretty boys desiring to be our groupies and drummers all of a sudden? don't they know we're actually a lesbian couple with fear of failure and that the only reason we work with drummers is the fact that we can fire them after some time? geeez.

september 30th, 2006
'leave him alone, 'cause the boy's bad news' is a very beautiful guideline which has to be applied to everyday and especially everynight-life. but, if it wasn't for the sweet taste of bad yearning, most of our musical and visual work would never ever have seen the daylight. so, indeed, it's not only about hotties and cuties (ya know), it's also very much about anti-heroes and forbidden fruits. unfortunately those tend to be the hottest and cutest. i hate the full moon. (but love you all)

july 1st, 2006
i am a huge fan of old dutch expressions, for instance the one about the importance of relaxation. (which contradicts the remains of our calvinist background that so many people, when it gets stuck to their sandals and leaves traces all over the hallway that can't be erased, still seem to honor and cherish) -clean your shoes, you lovely creatures, it's SUMMER! anyway. our new high is based on an old principle: take out the trash, take it outside..... well, outside and then inside again, especially inside a ladies'gym ('cause i'm a laaaady) and work that poor, alcohol-and-nicotine-drenched body until you step out on the streets untrashed, with glowing skin and muscles of steel. and holding your guitar with only two fingers. and play like a divine heart(rock)body. welcome back, pat bateman, we love the eighties! within weeks we'll be making cheap, clean, materialist, synthy discopop that serves as an exterior layer over a world that's rotten to the core. as i said, it's summer, let's enjoy flipflops, sandals, bikinis, short dresses, muscles and relaxation. i guess we deserve it. adios!

january 10th, 2006

a very happy new year to you too! in an empty room we drank golden whisky and listened to music, full of grace and pain. the smoke from our lips filled the space, where in very little time ghosts from the past would mimic our gestures, over and over. but we didn't stay. although our escape involved a car that completely broke down and a relationship that almost completely got broken up (hurray for superglue!) we managed to start this year in places where we belong and feel good. gam already painted her new floor with the help of s., an obscure artist/drummer who rents a studio space where we suddenly found ourselves playing and singing and yelling in da mic. that kinda stuff. you know.

september 23rd, 2005
since everyone here in the south is more than fed up with repeatedly having to listen to 'veilige hoes' and 'white leather jacket' we are shining our swords and chastity belts and planning a big quest: our metallic white horse will take us to the the happening places in the two lovely dutch big cities where they have skyscrapers and oysters in black bean sauce. at least that's the plan. in the meantime we will expand our territory: from next year on gam can be found in/at amsterdam bars, supermarkets, soirees and oh well, everywhere because our girl is moving there. it's only strategy! more soon.

december 1st, 2004
xxx for everyone who needs it. the end of the year is knockin' on some doors and things can get pretty cold and dark, i know. and i don't know what the fuck's going on in this year of the monkey, but someday it will be hip to be individual and smart and dress elegantly bohemian. and then we'll all go search for the truth. just try to survive until then.

november 2nd, 2004
how cute: film makers get killed and we try not to mix artistic beliefs with political awareness. we're not that kind of artists, we play by the rules of the sensitive, the intuitive, the imaginative. but it can get damn rotten sometimes. and that's all i'm gonna say about it. today we celebrate one of the skills' birthday. deep, down and dirty! november the 14th we'll play at an opening up north, but we broke our equipment... help, anyone!

august 30th, 2004

trend: the purpose of summer festivals varies from enjoying music and beer to, well, gathering mud on your boots and wear it with pride as you would with the latest fashion item. i myself am showing off no less than two layers of festival mud (belgian and dutch) stuck to my vintage (two euro's) eighties fake cowboy boots.

july 28th, 2004

the skills... nu nog minder vet!

july 26th, 2004
so i guess we're online then...





13 November 2009 WEEKEND van de KUNSTENAARSBANDS Tent/Worm, Rotterdam.

6 November 2009
KISSING THE TARGET solo exhibition by Myriam Custers at Hedah, Maastricht.

26 September 2009
INDEPENDENT DRAWING GIG 5 at Het Wilde Weten, Rotterdam.

25 September 2009
FEMINIFESTIVAL at Extrapool, Nijmegen.

12 September 2009
GARAGE SALE at Het Wilde Weten, Rotterdam.

22 August 2009
The summer edition of Gam & Buck's artist initiative!! The Skills accompany Frank Koninks who brings his poems in the humid dark evening of the Wallon woods, the river whispering nearby. Check it out here!

July 2009
The Skills do an ad hoc performance at Gallery 182 'Oops I Think My Grandpa Was A Nazi', followed by a gig at the former buurtsuper Club Attent. All in our new hometown that goes by the name Rattown.......

13 June 2009
Nest, Den Haag.

9 May 2009
De Fabriek, Eindhoven. Opening exhibition with installation by Gam.

6 February 2009
The Skills@Het Wilde Weten, Rotterdam (NL)

3 January 2009
Cafe Barrock, Maastricht. See no evil, hear no evil, breathe no evil!

29 Nov 2008 ZWART CBK Apeldoorn (NL)

10 Oct 2008 THE INDEPENDENT DRAWING GIG 4 at De Mot, St.-Martensvoeren (B). Noise and prose from Ray Moon, Petra and us.

23 May 2008 Getting close to the playlist can be a moment of meditation right before a gig. Kunsttournacht at the Timmerfabriek, good old Maastricht. Where else? Exactly.
(update) Slowly a wave got built up by programming the guitar landscape rock from Jos H. and his focused band. Then us. We extended the wave and stirred the location where it would drop itself and kiss the rocks a bit: crash the coast, withdraw and repeat the strong, seductive motion? Or would it retreat and show a smooth-sufaced ocean? After our show nothing happened. We got overruled. What gives? Exactly.

15 September 2007
The k13 (Velp) opening: our first words sung through the microphone were the equivalent of falsetto screeches, not because we went for that effect but the equipment was still at Erwin's sound check settings. His noisy guitar act was scheduled after our show. Apres nous, le deluge! Non, the other way 'round. The big stage was lit by dramatic theatrical light, and JJ and Nick kept apologizing for what, in their perception, was lacking... however, we liked it over there and any place can use a bit of distorted noise that nobody asked for. Yeah. That's the way it is, baby! At least sometimes.

16 March 2007 aPrOtPland at the Fenix, Sittard. Stanley Brinks/Herman Dune, Freschard, Ray Moon, The Skills and others.

17 February 2007
During the opening of Gam's exhibition at Amsterdam gallery Buro Empty she dragged me up the stairs, into the main space and put me onto a customised stage, threw a guitar at me and ordered me to sing. I had put on my rusty brown nailpolish, intending to work my acoustic pet so hard the polish would come off in seconds. Well, it worked! And I was SO proud. Gimme the sweat, the remains, the opposite of glamour and smoothly sailing ships, the dirt, the conflicts and I'm happy. (And another ex-boyfriend can be filed away.... the archive is growing and growing...)

18 december 2006 24 november we played at the opening of erik van lieshout's solo show 'this can't go on (stay with me)' at the boijmans van beuningen museum, rotterdam. sadly the artist himself missed it! but hey, we like to go unnoticed and refine our craft when nobody's watching. yeah. i mean, there were people watching, and some even danced in a weird, wonderful way...

23 october 2006
our gig at 'some white trash artist antwerp party': purple lights and garden fights. hell!

11 october 2006 WHITE LEATHER JACKET/GONZO check out your local music or book store for the beautiful magazine Gonzo and especially its compilation cd 'Track 13'....we're on the B-side, eleventh track.

5 july 2006
gam & simone proved that doing the guitar-bass-thing is the new black.

24 june 2006 What the fuck... The Skills do it again! buro empty, amsterdam.

2 june 2006 HEART ROCK. The Skills at café Zondag, Maastricht.

27 may 2006 ODDPOP strange festival for pop music

20 may 2006
simone solo.... blood & poison at the jan van eyck academy. still don't like whitecubewhite walls and empty hallways, but when the blood and poison came drippin' down, everything was wet and soft and accessible.

18 february 2006 Skills@Buck's in Rotterdam flyer by simone

30 june 2005 we've welcomed White Leather Jacket into this world! some delivery......

14 june 2005 almost done with the design/artwork! the idea of wrapping our cd in a piece of white leather was eliminated in a very early stage of our design-development. sigh. or did i dream about that? however, after some more hours-and-hours sessions with computer, scanner, cigarettes and alcohol of some kind we will be proud to present a beautifully finished White Leather Jacket accompagnied by a live gig at the Oddstock Festival with a special guest: R. (who does something with a digital studio and also something that involves wooden sticks and some pots and empty jelly jars, i believe...)

31 may 2005 BRAND NEW CD: WHITE LEATHER JACKET first there was the drawing on a piece of brown paper, then the text on my pc, then the euforic yet doomy song & now there's the shiny silvery disc that brings it all together: the words and music, the images and characters. here's the poetry: 1.white leather jacket, 2.tobacco, 3.urgent dutje, 4.the old dirty carpet rock, 5.blond, pink and blue, 6.veilige hoes, 7.trash, 8.out of my head, 9.drinking part I. it's not only about hotties and cuties you know (but some of it is)

28 april 2005 mix it! nothing special here, only that we are finishing our very first CD!!!!!! (that is, indeed, one of the reasons why this site has remained so empty the past few months... ahum) after some sessions in the 3 sun recordings studio we now have a blend of selfmade eclectorock, raw poetics and a serious statement against slick professionalism without a heart. or crotch. if i may say so myself, dammit.

15 december 2004 we like kitsch. we like dissecting kitsch even more, and we will prove this next sunday. warm-hearted ballad? no more. i think we froze water today, baby, and i may cough all evening but no-one can take the thrill of producing high-pitched yelling and screaming away. at least not today! sometimes it's all about resistance (and no hard feelings here, at times we too like to whisper and stay quiet...) (he...he... very funny that we couldn't make this one in brussels due to a sudden YYY-by the way-)

27 october 2004 we recorded our anthem veilige hoes for the first time in a real studio and it will be on a compilation cd with strange pop music... next january there'll be more recordings. my, things get pretty serious around here...

6 september 2004 ... need we say more?

9 august 2004 the birthday party show: sweat was running down our faces, between our legs, it was covering the upper lip of the male listener and meanwhile we played the electrics, sang, shouted and whispered our songs about beer, love, frustration, trash, love, more love and lack of love. thank you v3 for hitchcockian footage. stay tuned.

27 july 2004 very soon we'll do a secret, unannounced performance at frank's birthday party in downtown maastricht... don't tell anyone please. o yeah! the skills will geekrock another maastricht place-to-be, but more on that later. or not.


14 November 2009 Gam shows drawings at group show Research Interconnection / Rule 1: Im Not at Reinier van Ewijk Projects, Amsterdam.

29 August 2009
WOW: Simone's contribution to the art inspiration route in the old west quartier in Rotterdam (organized by De Kunstsuper) gets ripped off the tile walls in exactly one week after the opening. Fuck, but hey, to be expected.

20 June 2009
I WANT IT RAW. Performance by Gam and Simone during opening Subtrio at your-space, Eindhoven (NL). Exhibition with Simone, Rachel Koolen and Josepha de Jong.

19 February 2009
THE DAY I FIX A TURBINE TO MY BELLY . Performance by Cevdet Erek featuring Simone. Lokaal01, Antwerp (B)

5 February 2009
FLAW by Stephane featuring Simone. Basis, Frankfurt (D)

February 2009
SVELTE BLONDE (vocals track, cd Brash & Vulgar, In Flagranti) – Codek Records

29 Nov 2008
ZWART CBK Apeldoorn (NL)

22 Nov
2008 IDG4 Amsterdam

October 2008
HELSINKI BIENNALE www.helsinkibiennale.com

10 Oct 2008 IDG4

16 June 2008
Preparing for new collaborations actually means drinking peppermint and/or ginkgo infusion and letting the thoughts go by, let the love hold me down....... New websites coming up, lovely people know where to find me. Makes me happy. Luv' in general does. Seawater and focaccia do too! Since some months I've been working with Stephane on his film: human behaviour in a painfully beautiful form. So far it has involved acting, dancing, singing, shaping, shouting, and nothing will predict what the outcome of our hard labor will be. I feel at home in the large studio, where one of the black curtains came down during one session. I could sleep there, you know. Tear down the curtain and use it as a blanket.
photo by Jean-Baptiste

24 May 2008
wall drawing MUDBEER TOWN, Lokaal 01, Breda: someone suffered from train delays while the finissage of the Graphic Design project at Lokaal01, Breda, was happenin', man. I had been drawing from dusk till dawn for some weeks to complete my MUDBEER TOWN: a comic, a story about the pain a harshly cut change in direction can produce. Even if it exists only in fiction. But fiction morphs into autobiography, and the other way around. So I went a little rough on myself and squeezed my emotions like a lime, bittersweet and fresh and green, and wrote a story, as if I had a notebook with me every minute of the last weeks. "Memories can be like a plague... I try to smooth over the ugly ones with the ones that bring me peace." Anyhow, I arrived way late and had to cancel the performance that I had planned and was really looking forward to. Time's just not always on my side, the evil bastard.

7 September 2007
Independent Drawing Gig 3 at Quartair, the Hague. Curated by Yane Calovski (hard rock editor of D magazine), Linas Jablonskis (punk rock drawing energy) and Rachel Bacon (soft sweet hard lines)--------------- Much luv', some of us became sushi swallowing beasts while others stuck to digesting the tunes coming from Eunji Cho, Cocaine and Abel and us. I like how Linas carefully holds our playlist.....;-)

28 July 2007 De Nederlandsche Cacaofabriek, Hellmouth. The hardest moment in pregnancy: she felt like having the very worst hangover ever. Each morning. Waking up in a place which name serves as an entrance to eternal punishment and torture won't make a person feel light and happy. And apparently we do have a bit of a symbiotic relationship, so getting up in the morning and mixing the paint and lifting the brushes felt like an impossible job. We started with vegetation, shapes and emotional states, and I was moving toward my pixellated/grafitti-like vocabulary more and more. Gam kept things clear and poetic in charcoal. A cameraguy and reporter showed up at the opening and made a little item about us for local Maastricht television, we did some songs and then went home. It was hard to peel off those layers that work like a heavy blanket and slow you down, and all you want to do is cry a little and fall asleep for half a day.

2 july 2006 zielklachten en een eeuwig hart drawings and comic by simone at the squatheaven b32 in maastricht.

24 june 2006 gam is showing new drawings at groupexhibition: discours/no leitmotive. buro empty, amsterdam. flyer by gam

june 2006 D-MAGAZINE is finished..... and we love it. the cover has a virginal white sweetness, but inside it's spicy and punky. mmmmmmm

27 april 2005 The Skills submitted five full-color pages stuffed with drawings, our bio and a live photograph for the next issue of D-magazine, which is due in june this year. yc, the editor is putting the whole thing together in nyc as we speak...

30 november 2004 just lose it, go crazy, o baby. we never went that crazy during the opening where we played our most recent show, but we did manage to spark under the tl-light. romantica, moi?

7 october 2004 whipcream on top...modderige trip in niemandsland*...geen genade...we will, we will rock you and a bunch of educated crazy motherf*ckers will rock you too. non-stop soundvideomudblonddarkmayhem at extrapool (nijmegen) saturday the 16th of october. no man's land, eh? We like.

19 september 2004
dolly aka the redhead witch with the mean organ skills and the paper mask did a pretty focused and intense show in between a rock-cover band (no, not The Best Coverband In The World) and a stonerrock gang of cigar smoking kids. oestrogene over testosteron, very sexy and all. we were given free beer. our next show will be at a post graduate art institute that, apparently, needs some vampire slaying and exorcist rituals. do call us, we whispered, and they did, and we will put stakes through evil hearts and cover the floor with blood and demon remains. what a glorious night, the 24th of this month, it will be! hehehe...

14 august 2004 this evening the hedah (artist space run by curly girl that steals tobacco -watch out for her!) summer program will be presented... expect long walks, cute flyer girls and i was born in the desert and i've come to chase the blues away greatest huiskamerhits by... moi. yes, everybody wants to be the dj. it's natural. by the way, the girl mentioned above organised flap?! a date with your family video evening, it's worth visiting our small town for. (so i've heard...)