Twice a day you walk up a mountain to connect to the internet, check your matches on Hinge, and text the girl you like from your language class back in the country you live. 

In my dance, I host ghosts, their multi-headed presence, their sounding breath coming out of their numerous mouths. I befriend the strange, and the otherness becomes my condition.

If artistic production (within the artworld) is tied to individual mystique and brilliance — then how the hell are we supposed to stand out if the Netherlands alone produces such a vulgarly deflating abundance of artists?

“Hello” I typed, and it felt like flinging sound into a cave, testing to see if someone was there in the dark, some being of an undetermined image. 

Writer, cultural critic, and philosopher Ben Shai van der Wal calls upon us to embrace our trickster-friend. A short essay about how society’s need for healing and fixing stands in the way of it.

There’s no such thing as a stupid [art] question - Noa knows it all.