… is another man’s treasure, and although I wasn’t actively seeking ‘treasures’ while I was in Cape Town (damn those economy class luggage constraints!) I enjoyed browsing the junk shops, second-hand bookstores, salvage yards, flea-markets and off-beat galleries.

Every second-hand or ‘junk’ object has a story, and even though that story is usually not apparent, likely never will be, and is possibly not even very interesting, it imbues the object with a kind of ‘luminosity’, the faint and distant resonance of life’s ‘white-noise’.

Words are not my forte so I’m having a hard time describing what I mean, but I think it’s this incorporeal narrative potential that each object possesses that, for me, makes junk shop browsing such a pleasing way to pass a few idle hours…


quagga books



(eat your heart out Piet Hein Eek!)

shelves of stuff


quagga books mural

birds in flight

hunter and hunted

hippies use side door

basket skulls

coke, ox, basin

If luggage constraints (and customs and health & safety regulations) had not been an issue I probably would have returned to Amsterdam with a suitcase full of skulls!

I’m off to the Primavera music festival in Barcelona tomorrow. In addition to the many, many decibels of great music I plan to indulge in I hope to also get a bit of a Modernista architecture/Antonio Gaudi fix. Some Catalonian sunshine wouldn’t go amiss either. So, although it’s a little early in the week to be saying this, I hope you all have a great weekend.

Adéu-siau, until next week!