Olle Holmberg — 7 Years of Bad Luck

A poly-subjective tapestry in variations / Narcissa Whitman reaches the rocky mountains
Regenerate
To reign in all productivity and put it in the service of efficiency Another rusted calculator He doesn’t even break the law Each voice is not necessarily struggling to be the loudest or the ‘right’ one Waterlogged Rolodex And jokes-in-hand approach ready for any image compositional challenge '$5.50' he goes I am reminded of a garage sale I held when I was 4 or 5 Frequently manifests itself — as with this Burroughs-inspired bricolage — in a cacophony of voices Of having to keep He plays the guitar, too In ‘The Brain That Changes Itself’ the author describes how the best way to train a brain He once walked from Lilydale to Brunswick East Cyclonepedia She shuts her blowhole and sinks down to the bottom of her swimming pool I ask the chemist, an old bloke this time, how much it will be? With such subtle purposeful precision that they appear to have been given a new function Olle has somewhat in the last few years reverted back to a pre-historic self But it goes beyond physical space to cognitive space I bow to his adaptability Holmberg uses found objects often salvaged from dumpsters Olle's work is now endeavoring on a (social)-path-ic state of the unknown Authorship, in and after the era of Re-mix culture And it seems for a moment as though they might be an apparatus of obscure purpose Who are so unfortunate as to be taken by one of my chessmen That links people’s trust in numbers to their fear of them
 
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