An old iron ...
Last week has been a blur, a messy distasteful blur. Technical hitches, hick-ups and burps have been plaguing the studio ever since the move. Last week they hit an all time high. The intensity turned up just the right amount to blow things out of control; over and out of laughable margins. All my contacts (data of) were spotlessly erased, in one clean swoop (back-ups included!). 15 years of contacts, whooshed out, overwritten, lost, scarperred! 90% is (thank goodness) retrievable but 10% is not and that is NOT good! Why, I asked myself, am I so floored by this situation. Simple, the time span: 14 years 11 months 28 days are a massive 5,477 days. 131,448 hours which have encompassed countless meetings, encounters, running into new acquaintances, bumping into old friends, meeting fellow artists, shows, exhibitions, inquiries, interest... a network of varied and treasured contacts. All, so crucial, so vital to an active studio. Loosing access to all this priceless data simply gave me the ...