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Hosted by a woman and a daughter.

Received at night with a full just roasted chicken and some booze.

A vintage grunge look. Cigarettes, candles and smoke.

Burning woods warming up the house. Feeling wildness and coziness far out from home.

We finish the dinner with Aperol Spritz and fags at the atelier, where we’ll build the stage for Tomorrow’s festival.

Charlotte de Cock is not only a brilliant painter, she throws parties for people to fall in love, have fun and go wild twice a year as well. That’s what I came here to live. The Polar Barefoot in Antwerp, Belgium.

An arctic storm, deep fine techno music. Alcohol and drugs, iced smoke, sex vibes.

We rave. Til late. For days.

Flying back home I feel finally more alive, not for having pushed myself to come, but for the adrenaline of having shared a moment in time with beautiful and creative people. Those people I love to have around, those who not fear failure but instead dare to face it day after day. I admire the courage they have for doing what they love. Always proud of you Charlotte de Cock. Thank you. And thank you too Krisje. And Joris, Jan and Jenny. For the love, the hospitality and the free spirit dosis you just injected in my blood.

Chew it, chew it.

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