Monday, 30
Concerning my pictures (respectively pictures of others) I post here on the right I take the liberty of an order that is neither bound to chronology nor to context of meaning within the diary writing. There can be consecutives, whereas mostly I deliberately try to lead away from my writing towards a placid perception.

The house (flat) I am living in at the moment is going to be the longest I ever stayed at one place. With my family I lived for 13 years at Wientapperweg in Hamburg. Here in Klybeckstrasse I moved in August 2001.

Sunday, 29
I often hear people say: I am invited. To go somewhere and being invited is much easier than other way round. It is like two classes of people - the invited and the uninvited.
Going to art events, for example, you should be invited. Be sure you meet someone you can talk to. I mean you should be personally invited. In case you are not invited people will regard you as a beggar, pauper, trespasser, terrorist or anything not welcome.

I've been born not invited. I descend from an unintended pregnancy. To infer, going somewhere without invitation doesn't feel strange to me. Though, of course, I learned about etiquette and good manners and when you are a maverick life is more difficult. The past few years I've lived a life as maverick. But I tell you, I am tired of it. I prefer to stay home. I am tired of making me feel wanted. Too many rejections happened during that time. They made me being scared of additional fierce opposition. As a matter of fact, a new strategy has to be established. Something like temporizing, still being open minded, but more introverted, no objecting, but empathizing the other. Whatever, probably I'll stay radical, an eccentric independent bohemian, a freethinker.

By the way I am very proud and thankful that I got an invitation to Nigeria. I was lucky.

Saturday, 28
Life here is too restrictive. People don't have fun, it is only about how to make more money, worrying about taxes and high prices, exorbitant health insurances, nothing but trouble and problems. When you are positive, they will find a way to make you feel ugly. It's all about eager hustling, even holidays seem to be stressful. I miss real joy and delight.

Next morning, as expected a hangover. Headache. I think I have to find a rule for a change. For example, when I come home from work and I want to drink I go to my room and play bass for at least half an hour. Maybe that helps. Just to calm down and forget work.

Friday, 27
At work I had a lot of pain, I felt horrible. Returning home there has been fine food on the table, but I couldn't eat, only drink to forget pain and the day. Drink, drink, drink. After a while I feel bigger, more important. Thoughts turn to a postive approving of everything I do, I did. Sometimes enlightenments make life wonderful again. But that is the point, afraid to stop that sudden sense of well being, I continue to drink till I sleep. My roommate has run away for a date, no wonder.

Tried to install a commentbox, but didn't find out where to read the comments. After several hours of searching I gave up. Therefore and out of reason, because I thought people who need to comment can just use my Email

Thursday, 26
It was the first time I heard of the term abject while reading Sarah James' comment on Jorge Ribalta's discourse about documentary proletarian photography. (In my dictionary I've found the Abject Art definition by tate: Artworks which explore themes that transgress and threaten our sense of cleanliness and propriety particularly referencing the body and bodily functions.) At the beginning of last century I think it was revolutionary to present the view of the poor. Nowadays to talk of poetics of dispossession is blatant for those who don't have nothing.

In Lagos, I remember I was free to do what I wanted, when and where I wanted.

Tuesday, 24
D40*

Interesting:
It seems important to recognize that clandestine shooting is a constitutive trope in photographic modernism. Paul Strand already used side viewfinder methods in some of his early street shots from the 1910s. And in the late 1920s and 1930s, Cartier-Bresson, Ilya Ehrenburg, Ben Shahn, Walker Evans, Helen Levitt, and even Margaret Mead's husband Gregory Bateson, while photographing in Bali, all used right-angle viewfinders in their Leicas in order to avoid the rigidity present in subjects who are aware of the camera presence. This way, they were able to capture "life itself": the pure spontaneity of the unaware and anonymous passerby. Such unawareness is the precondition for the poetics of modernist photojournalism and documentary expression, to a large extent. But this unconscious, anonymous "common man" kind of representation is also the result of unequal power relations. Ehrenburg was aware of such power, addressing it through his analogy between the camera and a gun. In his book on Paris from 1931 he declares the dubious honesty of the writer as commentator of reality: "I can talk about this without flushing: a writer has his own notions of honesty. Our entire life is spent peeping into windows and listening at the keyhole - that's our craft."
Blog Fotomuseum Winterthur, still searching
Jorge Ribalta, III. Excursus: Politics of the Victim

To comment on this: For me when I take pictures it is not like peeping. It is opening my eyes and see what is happening respectively wondering what actually will come to my camera and if I can use them for my purposes that is communication. I even prefer when people realise that I am taking pictures, consciously or subconsciously.

A rainy day. The first since I've been back from Nigeria. I see the difference. When it's raining here, to the north of the alpes, it's grey and ugly. There it pours out massively, you cannot compare with this drizzling here, though rain brings beauty, there.

Sunday, 22
In room number one of the 14 performance rooms at art Basel I swapped my iphone charger to get an artis's artwork within a month's time.

Somebody has called me. He didn't ask how I am, or if am alright, but: ARE YOU WORKING? Sounded like a fulmination. Hey, what is the problem, am I not working enough? What do you want? I am faced with people I've never seen before, I have to be nice with them, talk to them, answer every of their questions friendly, even when they are not nice with me. - Leave me alone or be nice to me! - I know I am stubborn, anyhow no more respectless things accepted.

During my lunch break walking down Freie Strasse I spot a nice woman's summer dress in a shopping window. I go closer and check the price: 3950 Swiss Francs. Which woman deserves wearing a dress that could feed a whole family in Switzerland for a month - not to talk of other countries where this dress could feed a whole neighbourhood? ...that one who has so much money firstly to pay it and secondly is able to support a whole neighbourhood.

Saturday, 21
A friend has asked me to visit the art fair together this evening. He is a proud Basler, and I have known him for long long time - he loves Art Basel. After the show we go out eat sitting at a table next to two young women who are talking like curators. Out of the blue he askes me: Are you still doing that lowest job ever possible to do in a museum? (it is not the exact translation of his question, but a connotation-sorry, for those who still do it, there are worse jobs, I know, and working in museum isn't too bad. But for me it was unbearable, that's me, I suffered a lot and that is why I had to leave it) De facto, he should have known that I would feel annoyed about that issue. (In fact I left that job more than 10 years ago) However, to tell him calmly - lets change topic, my dear - I answer as short as possible. I dub my shame, stay cool. Nevertheless, he don't give up and askes me again: But in the other museum you still do it, isn't it? I think, hey, why can't you stop bruising me... what to say, men are often like this (women not better); to make themselves so very crucial they dump you by means of kinda nasty tricks.

Since two weeks back in chronometer oriented society - actually Swiss people are very proud about their clockworks and that everything operates on schedule. I tell you, my body is rebelling against the cold. My left side is like frozen, almost unable to move my head. Also day dreaming has started again as well as dreaming while sleeping. In the night I woke up worried about not being able to travel Berlin for my exhibiton because they had changed my working plan at museum last-minute. In the morning it was about discussions with my Swiss friend (she is one of my best friends) who regularly objects my view of life. In my dream we were visting a flat to live together, but a lot of rain passed through the roof. So I told her my doubts about that flat. She didn't want to realise and just ran away leaving me to decide. Concerning my daydreams, it is that I proceed into a self made world, where I feel good and happy. Anyway, I just try to stay cool, in real life of course.

Friday, 20
After - too many people, I tell you. Decades ago at the opening were people, but to public opening hours the athmosphere was more relaxed. Walking through sometimes a question comes to my mind: Why does my work never has been presented here? What is missing? Self criticsm?

Today art again, scope and volta already done. So much art it doesn't even make sense. So much money. People are looking wealthy whereas the art often looks cheap, empty, just connected to the gallery, crying for help and support. Expressive, conceptual, informative, cheerful, jovial, concrete, political... often an abundance of materials, sometimes a lot of uncomplaining work. You feel the artist's bent back, his or her humilated ego. Art Basel is a fair, not an exhibtion. Even Art Limited stays a trade fair. Money rules, gallerists are hawkers, obviously, who damn art to a product that has to sell. Of course they do their best and artists need them. A correlation - artistis feed gallerists (with their customers).

Tuesday, 17
In-between the two matches (Germany and Nigeria) had to fulfill my self given assignment to participate the opening of Liste Art Fair Basel. I just ran through it snapping what came to eyes - mostly people, not art.

MJ

Monday, 16
Thokozani Mthiyane about Youth Day in South Africa

Worldcup: I support Nija... unfortunately they didn't play that good.

Day of the AFrican Child, theme this year: a child friendly, quality, free and compulsory education for all children in Africa - unicef

Saturday 14
This morning on the stairs, a small talk with my poet neighbour who has been retired from his money making job recently. He feels like a European and enjoys living here, no intention of traveling to Africa, America or Asia. Perhaps to Egypt or Morroco. There aren't a lot people like him, tourism nowadays is common. No, he couldn't imagine traveling somewhere and walking around like in a zoo. No way, the same for me - concerning the zoo phenomenon. Hey, my dream, my wish to live at a place where am welcome stays the same. Businessclass :-) till - me save energy.

Thursday, 12
While the World Cup opening was happening on tv I went out to fetch a few beers. On my way back I met my musician neighbour and we started a conversation about this and that. After some time he asked me, where I would spend my holidays this year. The truth is that I had been already - in Lagos, Nigeria. He was very suprised, how so and wondered if they hadn't enchanted me for any reason. Well, I smiled, probably they did, and the woman in front of him talking was just an apparition - a spiritual projection - being there or here not of relevance. Nevertheless did we continue our conversation on a bench opposite our houses, where at daytime people flock together. We kinda agreed that Basel was a bit boring, so was Switzerland. Both of us had experienced prejudices and inhibition, harassing, not allowed to express a self- determined fashionable style. Attracting attention, a no-go. A difficult place for artists - that exactly was what he said. Why not look for a place where artists are welcome.

D25*

About making contacts. Especially when you are an artist, you need to set up a network making useful contacts as many as possible. Watch out for people who are open, who look at you appealingly. You feel a connection even before talking. To establish a productive relationship all involved should be able to clarify economical interests, understand spiritual data, exchange ideas, supply support and help. Artists, feed each other. Perception of discrete life styles will broaden your mind.

So here is my world, my truth, my points of view - it is not about treason. Secrets people tell me I will never mention here. Even when there is something I have the urgent feeling to talk about I put it in shape nobody will be offended. At least - that is my purpose and I hope I succeed within this point.

Wednesday, 11
When I don't have to worry about money, still I wonder if mental humilation is worth the money... Before I traveled to Lagos someone told me I shouldn't take degradations personally. How, to whom does this painful offence refer to when it is not me? Tell me. Who is it who has to bear your punches on a soul that belongs to me? ... consequences are inevitable - a damaged soul is predetermined to make mistakes - to understand your intentions of keeping me down.

Tuesday, 10
Risk and Challenge
At my workplace I constantly become depressive. Since long I've accepted that as normality. Still I ask myself if to feel discontented when you are at work is a standard condition of work generally. To be honest I think to be happy (not fake, but from your heart) at work should be taken for granted. As for my part I miss a challenge. Not a risk, but a real challenge of doing something where my abilites are a need. I do my assignments like reading, research - but it is not a challenge, probably a small risk because that is actually not what I am paid for. What means it is not in interest of my employer that I improve concerning my own career, but do what they hired me for in regard to their progress. Kinda real risk would be quitting this job. But after, because of no money more stress would be inevitable and the question if life was happier then would arise. Anyhow, whatever chance will come to change my situation for a fulfilled life, I will take risk and challenge. I tell you. Sabi, conversion won't be that easy, but wow interesting as long as I don't have to worry about money.

MJ

Sunday, 8
Actually, my wish is to be straight on a thought, to follow an idea that makes me happy.

Someone asked me: Are you still writing? After, a hint: You cannot change the system, but yourself. I've often changed in my life, but those people who knew me didn't accept my changes. They wanted me like they knew me before. But that one I keep forever - my fake smile. I can do it, wow, and I am proud of it.

The question arises when doing good when doing wrong. To prevent collecting blow jobs (in sense of blowing others not yourself) go straight with your inner voice. Any time you hesitate you will probably do wrong, because you already calculate your benefits, but there won't be enough time to balance pros and cons. Just go forward. The more you've been hurt in life, the more difficult the assignment will be, cause as a matter of fact subconsciously you're about to rule out further violations, what makes you think and ponder. And there we are - you hesitate and the loop starts eating your intuitions. Your power of resistance eaten up you do what people expect from you - say no no no...

Saturday, 7
Something I have learned during my long life. When you don't appear self conscious, you admit your mistakes, your vices, your infirmities - you kinda reveal self criticism as part of your nature - you will well and truly get your blow jobs. I mean when somebody realises that your are someone weak s/he will use YOU to strengthen his or her own career on behalf of your skills, your emotional intelligence, your energy. What means humans (who are part of the so called developed Western society) still achieve their positions by a materialist showdown in sense of archaic structures, because they do not consider qualities from a point of view that is different from their own.

Friday, 6
where is my horizon - hey I didn't chose to leave, I had to like always in my life - leaving to head for home not being able to stay - my friend Sarjo wrote have fun - let me try having fun at home - to lead an organised life? what is it - work, become a workoholic, may that help to lead a fulfilled life - no complaints - let me be - accept - abeg

Thursday, 5
SHIT - leaving hurts - almost unable to do. Every movement feels heavy like I was drawn to ground - stay.

MJ

Wednesday, 4
Bar Beach looks like a desert. To prevent flooding they've raised an embankment what makes it look like a bay. On my way home in the BRT bus I thought I would never reach the end. Traffic wasn't moving. Every time we could make some meters it was kinda release. And it was crowded, crowded crowded. Passing closely I saw darkness eating the ghettoes. Only a few bulbs let me spot silhouettes of humanity. When I had been walking Banana Island in the morning police asked for my driver - oyibos never walk.

Somebody told me I should come back in October for an extended stay. Why not.

Tuesday, 3
We've talked about corruption, here and there. In African countries you see it everywhere, a misuse power, bribing as a part of life to go on, a bargain, a trade, justice made by the people. Whereas in Europe they tell you everything is... should be clean, bribing forbidden by law, everything in order. But in my eyes, corruption there is worse, because you cannot see it. It happens behind the beautiful curtain of democracy.

Things went differently from what I had planned. Completely different. That is how life happens, you never know.

Monday, 2
Jazzhole store. Cool. Cappuchino for 600 nira, not cheap. I've found a Bass Guitar - How to play - instruction book. When I am back in Europe I'll get my bass and amplifier to do exercises. You see, I am about to prepare for having good times, here or there.

More of Mustapha Jinadu:
ir im not dyin
miracle is it?
yessir. sir
yesson
Imnotcryin
after that which but hurts a myriad million more than of what last years made you weep?
yesson? I feel nada. I don’t like it but a feel nada.
good. your stonein. caint brake no more
sir. im lightening up.
yesson. your soldierin now
thanks sir. but when will a cry
pray and wait.
yessir
Sire!
Yes Sire!

Sunday, 1
When access gets denied there seems no way out of isolation. It is those bounderies under the skin that keep everything senseless. Any perception of the self leads to self destruction what results in idleness. Far from constructive self criticism, but an emotional uncontrolled overall rejection. Under the skin. Socially not accepted, a frog in the throat. So, to find the way out you need strength that is compulsory. Self discipline helps not to lose control and blame others.

Talking to my father on the phone yesterday I lost control and blamed them for my destiny not being able to achieve what I dream of. Some things may come from education, even it is not their problem, but mine. Instead of grapping my dreams I linger in floating with them not being able to induce steps to pattern my life free from self denial and complexes.

-----------------------------------
I like talking. Today I'll find a person who likes talking to me.