I lucked out again with my next help-exchange host, landing in Leuven, Belgium, at a small community of artists and tinkerers fueled almost entirely by the waste of others. Hold your thoughts – they live like kings here! An over-abundance of donated or slightly expired food feeds the ten of us humans, the pigs, goats, chickens, geese, dogs, cats, ducks, peacock, and a whole bunch of snow-white doves. Ultimate freegan lifestyle. Meals are prepared in giant batches, usually something more delicious than I would make anyways, and daily chores pass without a thought, with so many helping hands. There’s only one full-time resident, sixty-five year old Gosse with his long white beard, but a few have lived there for months. One guy tends to the gardens, two usually handle the cooking, and the rest of us clean and pass the day building things or organizing or painting.
De Bereklauw is the official name of this place, fittingly dubbed ‘The Dream Factory.’ What started as a simple farm house and stables has evolved, over the past forty years, into a dreamer’s paradise and showcase. Freedom to create is fueled with a junkyard full of all shapes and sizes of wood, metal, plastic, appliances, antiques … anything you can imagine finding useful, is a short walk to the side yard. With visitors constantly coming and going, countless ideas have accumulated into a bar, stage, childrens’ play area, studio, giant workshop, additional rooms for additional helpers, more gardens for more fresh produce. And it keeps evolving – free to explore our own creativity, I really feel like a kid in a candy shop. Though, often the candy turns out broken or antique here, its still so sweet :P
My room is a pig sty, literally. Well, it was a few years back, but now its pretty cozy and nice. I’m rooming with Henrick, a Danish artist, on a stack of four mattresses princess-and-the-pea style. We’re preparing for a big art festival throughout Leuven on April 29- May 1, and so far I’ve scrounged together a sweet sound system for the bar, transformed junk heaps into chill spaces, cleared room for the 5m square canvases arriving, and designed and built a sweet deck overlooking the stage pasture and neighboring farmland, that the sun sets behind… a VIP lounge for the festival to come, and the goats’ mountaintop perch in the meantime
Ideas are easily manifested with a stroll around the joyfully cluttered spaces, or through the four workshops, or of course through the extensive scrap yard. And the stroll would likely be accompanied by flying folk ~ doves floating about like miniature angel beasts, peeping chicks surrounding their warm mama hen, waddling ducks curiously critiquing your work, or geese that always seem offended and with somethin to proove, which they do by standing up tall, glaring and hissing like a snake up to your thigh. The goats are free to roam the pasture, and get their exercise by climbing the piles of pallets and head-butting the heck out of each other. And escaping their pen, to be chased back in by the closest human.
Too much to write about in one post, so part two coming soon – I couldn’t seem to fix my camera, or even get any pics off of my phone, so here is felix, the furry inconvenience currently lounging on my lap, arm, and part of the keyboard:
/\__/\
<='.'=> -meow
(“)_(“)~