Carrotwear lowtech interview with NOS

Interview & photo by: Ushiri featuring technohead NOS

Also in this photo our new awesome editor/co-worker Anna Karlsson for “USHiRimagazine online” since our release at the 17th of June 2021, .

I´m happy to ask NOS about this very tough subject even if it was since March that the photo was taken when the release of USHiRimagazine #2 was released. He is also the creator of my Jingle for my radioprogram ” Udda musik med Ushiri “/ ” Odd music with Ushiri” / Ushiri

A carrot kimchi experience at Möllan

Text, photo, and artwork: Anna Karlsson

A while ago it became known to USHiRi Magazine that Flax, the vegan café and farmstand at Sölvesborgsgatan near Folkets Park in the Möllevången (Möllan) area, has carrot kimchi on their menu. CARROT kimchi! This had to be investigated, we thought.

Below is a report of our visit.

October 2021.

USHiRi Magazine (in the form of Anna): Hi, I’m here from Ushiri Magazine. There is supposed to be some pre-ordered kimchi for me, to review for the magazine actually, I believe there was a guy here earlier today?

Flax (unnamed waitress): Oh, that’s right., yeah… Then you could just speak to Buddha here (nods at the guy behind her).

Flax (Buddha Browett, owner and founder of Flax): Yeah, true, there was a guy here earlier today who ordered kimchi and an apple cider for later. Right, ok, let’s see… (turns to the refrigerator), we sell kimchi in jars, do you want to eat straight out of the jar, or would you like a plate with some bread and dressing to go with it?

Anna: Um…, aha, yeah, well, in that case, I’d like a plate, please.

Buddha reaches for a ceramic bowl and fills it up with fresh-made kimchi, bread, and some whitish, creamy dressing. He also takes one of his see-through glass jars with orange, red, green, and yellow kimchi inside and places it on the counter, so that I can take it with me when I go home.

Buddha: There you go. Hope you’ll like it!

From farming to cooking and serving

Close to the window, I find a small café table with a free seat on a wooden sofa. I release myself from my outer jacket and scarf and pour up the (non-alcoholic) apple cider in my glass. Then I place the bottle and the glass in good relation to the kimchi bowl for a short Kodak moment.

A handful of other customers have made their way into the small café. At the end of the bar is a guy reading a book while drinking his coffee. Close to him is another guy pulling some jokes in English, and then there is a girl waiting for her take-out with a yoga math convoluted in a blue roll on the floor. Another female guest comes through the door carrying a mug and an empty plate, probably having had a fika in the outdoor sitting area. There is also a group of friends who come in to chat with Buddha.

Suddenly I realize that I’ve been here before, in this very room. A friend of mine used to run a massage therapy studio at this location, situated at 10, Sölvesborgsgatan, near the Möllevången, Folkets Park, S:t Knuts, and Sorgenfri neighborhoods, south of downtown Malmö.

Where there now seems to be some sort of a storage area, in a room on top of a stair to the left, I would enter the therapy room to lay down and have my back and shoulders’ muscles squeezed by this strong, dedicated, and kind-hearted girl who always seemed to know exactly where to push and stroke to release the tensions and pain I sometimes suffered from.

That’s almost fifteen years ago, though. After she left sometime around 2010 the facility has housed a few other businesses, and two years ago, at the time of midsummer 2019, chef and farmer Buddha Browett bought an espresso machine and opened up Flax.

An Australian in Malmö

Flax (or “common flax” or “linseed”) is a well-known flowering plant, commonly used for linseed oil as well as linen textiles for bed sheets and table cloths. It’s a name that goes well along with the natural, vegan, and also aesthetically thought-through profile of this café.

Buddha Browett had moved to Sweden from his native Sydney, via Barcelona, some years earlier (“because of the weather, haha, no actually I fell in love with a Swedish woman, that I’m no longer together with though).

Step by step he went from selling vegetables at “Bondens Marknad” (“The Farmer’s Market”) at Drottningtorget, to subsequently co-found “REKO-ring Malmö”, a successful selling service where small local farmers can put up crops on Facebook for pre-ordering and weekly distribution straight to customers.

While also having started up and run Sweden’s largest commercial urban farm “Los Perros” (today 2800 m2 big), he realized that one piece was missing though: a restaurant or café outlet for his harvest.

One day in 2019 he found the facility at Sölvesborgsgatan, and that was it.

Today he’s doing farming between Sunday and Wednesday and runs the café and farm stand from Thursday to Saturday.

Uses everything he grows

Having this set-up, he can use basically everything he grows. He no longer needs to find himself getting up at four o’clock in the morning – harvest, pack, and driving to Bondens Marknad at Drottningtorget, trying to sell as much as possible – before ending the day with perhaps some crops still left. Sometimes trying then to sell the surplus to nearby restaurants, sometimes being lucky, sometimes maybe not.

Delivers to local quality restaurants like Julie, Mineral, Qué, and Lyran are still part of the business, but a lot of his harvest is now also used at Flax. Moreover, customers may buy fresh pumpkins, onions of different sorts, potatoes, apples, zucchini, and more, at a small farm stand next to the entrance.

Buddha Browett recounts all of this after I’ve had my little kimchi and bread moment (which really is quite a joy! The kimchi has a nice combination of a lot of different flavors, it has a lagom heat from the chili and is overall very refreshing.)

Buddha: The menu at Flax is made up of things I like. A lot of it actually has carrots in it, like the kimchi but also a lot of other dishes, because carrot is such a useful vegetable that goes along with a lot.

Anna: Ah, that is very pleasant news for CARROTTRiBE members and USHiRi Magazine readers!

Buddha: If you look at the menu I think there are carrots in all the dishes except the one at the top (he points to a blackboard behind the counter, where different dishes and courses are written in white chalk letters. And yes, I do indeed find for instance one soup, one stew, and one grilled sandwich that all in some way contain carrots.)

Anna: Cool.

Buddha: 👍

Anna: If comparing sauerkraut and kimchi (both fermented vegetables; editor’s note), why kimchi?

Buddha: Oh, well, for me that’s just because of the variations possibilities with kimchi. I like to be able to put in like ginger and chili and that kind of stuff.

Kimchi can be used with almost everything and is considered a staple in the Korean kitchen.

I had kimchi myself for the first time back in 2002 when it was served as a side dish to a bowl of chicken dumplings at “Kafé Japan”, in central Gothenburg. Back then kimchi wasn’t that popular or common as it is today in the Swedish food flora, I think. While sushi or thai food at the time had become almost as popular as pizza, kimchi was more like “oh, this is… interesting…. tastes good though!”

Korean culture and lifestyle have made quite an impact on parts of the Western world since then though (with The Squid game, K-Beauty, K-Pop, and Gangnam style, for instance), but exactly how popular kimchi is I’m not quite sure of (since food writing isn’t actually my main pursuit.) But Buddha Browett might know, I figure out, so I decide to ask of his opinion.

Buddha: Kimchi is very popular I think, and it’s getting even more popular all the time now. Our customers really like it!

Fan art

After my visit to Flax, I draw this picture, inspired by the vibe and features of the place. Incorporated in the drawing is the Korean spelling (김치) of kimchi.

Carrot kimchi at Flax, Malmö. Art by Anna Karlsson.
Carrot kimchi at Flax. Art by Anna Karlsson.

Do you wanna try yourself?

If you want to buy your own kimchi or have it with for example a grilled cheese sandwich, you’ll find Flax on Sölvesborgsgatan 10 near Folkets park in Malmö. Opening hours and other information can be found at Flax’s online site.

Sword of scary

Toilet / Malmö

Guests at the Coffee Square in Malmö Möllevångstorget Sweden can expect the very extra if going to the loo (or should we say the loovre?) during their visit. This “rest room” (no, no rest), referred to by many as “the cave toilet”, offers a mix of musketeer romance, high renaissance art and stuffed birds.

Erik Vestman

Text: Anna Karlsson & Photo is all copyright Clayton Monty @claytonmonty7

The need for grey scales. Reflections after reading “Mörk choklad” #2

Review of comic fanzine “Mörk Choklad” No 2. Edited by Lars Krantz. Contributions by Lars Krantz, Andreas Rosengren, Ushiri Stenberg
56 pages, black and white
Language: Swedish
Released: 2021

Out on the side-walk I realized I’d forgotten to talk to USHiRi about that collaboration; that text that a friend of ours maybe wanted to write for the magazine.

“I’ll do it next time” I said to myself, while pressing the numbers of the code to the lock in front of me. Earlier in the morning I had come through this door to go park my bike in the backyard on the next side of the vault. Now the lock didnt “click” like it used to.

I pressed the handle to check; it was locked. I pressed the digits one more time. Nothing happened. I pressed again. Nothing.

“I need to doublecheck the code” I thought and took up my phone to scroll through the chat we’d had the other day. There was the address to where I was right now, there was the code. There was no discrepance between this and the one I’d just tried. Maybe the door was broke or something. I pressed the code again. Now it opened. “I really should have said something about that text”, I thought.

On both sides of the vault were stairs up to the houses’ apartments. Sprigs were painted on the walls. Through the glass doors ahead came a bright, sharp spring sun and on the other side was the backyard and somewhere my bike. The next door I could just open, but before I went out into the yard I had to fasten the door with that springy little metal pole, so that the it stayed open.

Then I don’t know what really. I found my bike, got back, released the pole from the ground and let the door shut. It didn’t. It stopped half-way when the pole suddenly dropped down, by itself, and stuck.

Noone was there. I looked at the door and on the pole. It didn’t seem broke or loose. I released the door and with my one hand steering the bike through the vault I took up my phone with the other and called USHiRi about the collaboration.

In the beginning of Huvuden ska rulla (Heads will roll), the opening story of Swedish horror and sci-fi cartoonist Lars Krantz’s fanzine Mörk choklad No 2, (Dark Chocolat No 2), Lars is asked by his friend Martin if he is interested in drawing the artwork for a music video, for a song called Heads will roll. The song is about “ideological extremism”, inspired by a woman Martin knows of that believed she could communicate with God via the sun. She had these conversations just her and God first, while later introducing also her son. The experiences was described by the woman on Facebook. Appearantly she had a schizofrenia diagnosis.

Exactly why and when any heads are gonna roll, I’m not really sure of, and this, of course, builds up a certain suspense. Is it something that will be exposed or disclosed? Is it the woman, her alikes, and ideological extremism, that subsequently will be squelched? Or is it something else going on? Will people get killed?

In the beginning of the story, Martin talks vibrantly about an imminent apocalypse and Lars replies in an ironic tone that “Yeah, I guess God will have it his way, as always”.

Later in the night, after having discussed Heads will roll out on the pub, Lars wakes up in his room, only to find himself surrounded by skulls staring up to the sky. He gets out of bed, walks up to the window and put the blinds aside. He then discovers what they’re all glaring at; the sun. Conciously or unconciously, Lars seems to be very influenced by, or maybe even identify with, that woman Martin told about.

Women with visions of light and divine contact take some part in the subsequent story in the fanzine too; the dark and humorous narrative zest of Andreas Rosengren’s Guldbenet (The Golden Leg).

A girl called Veronica visits the library where André works, asking for literature on Hildegard von Bingen. Von Bingen was a Benedictine abbess, philosopher, mystic, visionary, writer and composer, who in the 12th century in Germany experienced the umbra viventis lucis, the reflection of the living Light, via which she could observe different people from “distant lands and spaces”.

Von Bingen wasn’t considered schizofrenic or anything, instead she was actually one of the first persons to be brought up for Roman canonization. Also in modern times, only ten years ago, Pope Benedict XVI said of Hildegard that she is “perennially relevant” and “an authentic teacher of theology and a profound scholar of natural science and music.”

Veronica’s interest in Bingen is the spark for a sexual, thrill-seeking and inevitably destructive relationship between her and André (who manage to ask her out after vivid input from his dick and his soul that say they’re gonna kill him if he screws up), later putting him in a state of something similar to dissociation.

André is mesmerized by Veronica’s beauty, and the notions of vertigo, abysms and adventure he sees in her eyes. Veronica, on her side, soon also reveals that what she wants is not conversations on middle age’s saints, but late night ventures and escapades.

She seems to have a complex relation to defenselessness and susceptibility; while at the same time indulging in intense experimenting with lust and desire through drugs, sex and death challenges with André, she shuns from conversations touching on vulnerability, making André for instance feeling totally dull when telling her about his depressions.

These messing-with-reality-actions make me think a little of American neuro-scientist Erik Hoel, who has written a lot about the biological ground for fiction. The hitherto established idea of dreams is that they help create and establish long-term memories by processing our different experiences. Hoel, however, argues that dreams occur for the sake of themselves, as of assets of “noise injections”, to help us to not get stuck in a too well-known environment; to help us better perceive and recognize different kinds of things and beings. Hoel is inspired by machine learning; if an artificial intelligence is trained to recognize for example cats, and is presented to only one type of pictures of cats, it will be very good at recognizing these kinds of cats but no others. If “noise injections”, concisting of odd or weird pictures are mixed up with these data, the AI will have easier recognize a wider range of various types of cats; the generalization ability will improve.

In Kult, the final story of Mörk choklad (and the continuation of Heads will roll) Lars tells about his love for the dark and savage roll playing game “Kult”, “a deeply philosophical” game that offered “a terrible explanation of our existance”. He goes on musing about the current world, concluding that “things mustn’t come ready-packaged. If we don’t see the grey scales when we’re young then it won’t be easier when getting older”.

This is to some extent a reoccuring theme in all of the stories of Mörk choklad I think. It’s in Krantz’s explorations of different dimensions, worlds and beings, it’s in Rosengren’s description of foundations and paths of desire and confusion, and in (my friend’s and colleague’s) Stenberg’s playful recounts of odd characters.

The shortage in some people’s ability to recognize a human is told in for instance Stenberg’s Too tall, a (true) story about a dude who cannot sit straight on buses, cannot sleep in hotels bed, have difficulties finding things to wear, and is made fun of when going to the pub, because of being taller than average.

Sci-fi, oddities, fiction, the unknown, dirt or fifty shades of grey is perhaps more or less vital for humans. If we don’t see a difference between two things we’ll often try to find it; either in dreams, prejudices, fantasies, art, innovation, mental “illnesses” or in the theory of QAnon. Some seem to find exciting differences in numbers or location, in age or descent, time or space.

The collaboration I called USHiRi about that day when the code lock didn’t work and the door stopped by itself, later turned into a first-person recount about being isolated because of certain conditions that increases the risk for severe Covid-19 symptoms (Sweden hasn’t had the same extent of restrictions as many other countries; here it has mostly been extra vulnerable people that have had to stay home).

The woman writes about feeling lonely, how she just wants to go out, be noticed and socialize. She fears however that when society opens up there are gonna be lots of people like her, too many in fact, and where can everyone find their place? Her story is a recount of someone who doesn’t really have her needs fulfilled, and who thinks that everyone else is in the same situation; therefore fearing a fight over resources and upcoming opportunities.

I don’t really see the difference between her anxiety and Lars or Martin’s ideas about the apocalypse, their struggle with not getting jobs, or getting payed, with not being seen by an condescending girlfriend. But whereas they are certain that heads will roll and they will win, she seems for some reason worried that she will be left behind.

Text: Anna Karlsson

“People need colors”

Exhibition / Malmö

The new exhibition at the CARROTTRiBE Gallery is all about abstract and expressive colors. The two exhibiting artists, Linus Strömdahl and Julie Blumenberg, tell us a little about their work.

Art by Julie Blumenberg and Linus Strömdahl. Photo: Anna Karlsson

Text & photo: Anna Karlsson Photo: Clayton Monty


“The visitors can expect amoroso and joyous paintings. If the paintings reflect my inner carrot I guess I have a very varicolored carrot; none with just plain orange, but all of the colors. I have worked very spontaneously, not very thought-through, just gone by feeling. Most of the paintings are made in 2012, 2015 and 2020, some in art classes I attended and some at home. For me painting is a way of expressing myself and canalize energy. It’s very therapeutic; when I paint I see patterns and the contexture of everything.”


“I love to exhibit my art and meet people. I’ve had lots of exhibitions planned the last year that have been cancelled due to Covid-19, but here we go, finally! Some four years ago I started painting more abstract instead of doing portraits, which I’d done a lot before. This way I feel I’ve had it easier to find my own style and rhythm. Now I use a lot of colors, including gold, silver and coppar – that unfortunately don’t come out that good here as in the original paintings – , but anyhow… My paintings reflect my inner world, they are really an expression of that. I think we all need to put our conscious thoughts aside sometimes, at least that is something that makes me feel good. And people need colors too, especially in these times. I’ve put titles on my paintings, in Spanish, like “Otoño en fuego”, and some in English too, but I would also like the beholder to come up with their own interpretations.”

The exhibition lasts from July 15th up until August 15th. Opening hours are the same as those of The Vegan Bar.

Follow Linus and Julie on Instagram: @linusstromdahl @julyguli

Art by Julie Blumenberg. Photo: Clayton Monty
Art by Julie Blumenberg. Photo: Anna Karlsson

A crunch from the past

The Tricarrotops was once the crunchiest creature to roam the Earth.

I was asked recently by two Italian couchsurfers what to do if you had one day left in Malmö. “We’re thinking of going to the Copenhagen bridge” one of them said, “I mean, just to see what it looks like”.

I nodded, thumbs up, “Yeah! It’s really a pretty cool view almost anywhere the bridge’s included” I said.

“Do you know that there’s quite a thrilling limestone quarry nearby, as well? Where they’ve found lots of cool stuff!”

In my mind had popped up a sentence from a short article I read about the quarry last summer; “Discover the dinosaurs of Malmö and its rare plants and animals!” The article spoke about that summer’s guided tours, which, of course, never happened because of Covid-19.

The small notion about dinosaurs, however, remained in my mind, keeping me wondering “What the heck?”

Now, with two eager travellers right in front of me, it felt like the perfect time to pass this knowledge on. Giving tips and information as a local is indeed a little of the couchsurfing idea, and here I was, a breakfeast-eating Malmö local, at my friend’s – the host’s – apartment.

“I think maybe there are some dinosaur skeletons down there” I said. “I’m not sure, but since you’re already going there, why don’t you check? If you have the time? And you want to? Please also then tell us if you find something!”

The two young women looked at me firmly. I could see a tiny flicker of ancient-reptiles-findings-exitement in their eyes.

They made sure that they had the information written down.

A few hours later we all, however, realized that even if the area in the Limhamn limestone quarry stems from the approximately 66 million years’ old Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event, when all the dinosaurs and a bunch of plants and animal species died out after a believed asteroid impact, the dinosaurs findings in this area haven’t been so prominent (algea, moss animals and corals’ fossils are more common).

Most of the skulls, jaws and limbs from these giant ancestors have actually turned into lime, making up a perfect foundation for sugar refining, paper, steel and tap water production, cow’s and chickens’ feedingstuffs, and fertilizers for seeds, for instance.

Thus, if the Tricarrotops was once the crunchiest creatures to roam the Earth, it might still be that. Only in a different form so to say. That coffee latte and the sandwiches we had that morning might have been either made possible by, or even born some traces of, Tricarrotops in the flesh.

In retrospect I don’t remember any carroty taste though, but everytime I see some sugar or bread… oh, nevermind.

Art: Harenheit
Text: Anna Karlsson

Intervening structures of life and society

Street Art / Hamilton, Canada

Meet Andrew Lamb (CAN), the artist and puppet-maker behind the Neighbourhood Watch Project in Toronto, numerous cardboard creatures and lots of other cool stuff

Text: Anna Karlsson (Co-Editor of USHiRi Magazine) Location: Hamilton, Canada (via Zoom)

One day in November last year I learned that the top part on your feet are in Spanish not “toes”, but “fingers of foot” (“dedos del pie”). Later in the evening, when lying in bed, trying to name actually all the parts of my body (as was the homework of the Spanish course I attended), I came to think about the anatomy of horses that I studied when making drawings back in the days of my early adolescense. I remembered that the horses’ hocks up on their back legs are sort of their heals. In the same way their front knees are what we would refer to as wrists. In their “splint boon” are degenerated “fingers”. Their hoofs are more or less the tip of the nails.

Calling up professional puppet-maker, puppeteer and artist Andrew Lamb (CAN) for a video conversation on Zoom one Saturday in April, I ask if the echoes of traits usually strike him when making a cardboard Wendiceratops for the visitors of the Royal Ontario Museum, or a roaming beaver puppet for Canada Day celebrators in the City of Mississauga, or a zoot-suit wearing praying mantis stomping the streets during the Art Gallery of Ontario’s 2015 Massive fundraiser and other events in Toronto.

I love cardboard because it is cheap, easy to work with, strong for its weight and is fairly environmentally friendly. It also burns, which is a fun thing to do once the puppet has lived its life.

Andrew Lamb (CAN)

Not really, it turns out, although he is very aware of for example the function of joints, the concepts of balance and sympathetic movement, combined with different kinds of hardware. But in the end, he’s rather unsentimental about his creations.

“I prefer my work to be cheap to make, free to see and furthermore to be seen unintentionally. I love cardboard because it is cheap (often free), easy to work with, strong for its weight and is fairly environmentally friendly. It also burns, which is a fun thing to do with some friends a night at the beach, once the puppet has lived its life”. 


“Yeah, haha. One thing you discover when working with these things is that they take up a lot of space, and space is at a premium in cities. It becomes a pain to find new homes for them, as I am only working out of a two car garage.”

The echoes of traits I was talking about earlier is probably the concept of genetic coherence, he says. Which, true, is the case, at least to some extent.

Genetic coherence, which is the evolutionary principle involved in the linear evolution of anagenesis, where you have a gradual evolution of a species and the species continue to make babies with each other, as in opposition to cladogenesis, where you have a split and eventually end up with new species.

Once you produce it, it goes out and does its own thing, interacts with the world and people, is interpreted and loved or hated.

Even if humans and horses, along with for example cats, beavers and even dinosaurs, share the notion of a “hand”, used for whatever purpose: walking, gripping or creating art, they are of course seen as different species (although horse brothels were running in Denmark up until not so long ago. But that is a different story, I believe).

Researchers used to debate whether present day humans originate from Africa or from Afro-Eurasia, with respects taken to the afore-mentioned aspects.

In our current technology-infused reality, it could – if one is free to muse – perhaps be interesting to discuss how much “artificial” influence is possible before humans turn into a new species? An artificial cardiac pacemaker is ok. Micro-robots swimming through blood vessels delivering drugs. Electrical limbs in contact with finger stumps. Microchip implants. Interacting with Siris or Liza and Hannah.

What will create the split?

Strandbeest by @theojansen_official Photo: @Marco Zwinkels

Andrew Lamb says he is kind of interested in Theo Jansen (NLD), who in 1990 began building large skeletons out of yellow plastic tubes from Dutch electricity pipes, and named them strandbeesten (“beach animals”). The animals are able to move on their own with the help of energy from the wind. Theo Jansen is cited on his homepage, saying: “By developing this evolution, I hope to become wiser in the understanding of existing nature by encountering myself the problems of the real Creator.”

(Editor’s note: This is perhaps a more humble form of juxtaposing yourself with a higher power. Another standpoint, the one in the old notion that artists can be directly influenced or even steered by a higher power will be discussed in a coming review of Lars Krantz’s (SWE) comic fanzine Dark Chocolat. Check the page in the coming weeks if you’re interested in that!)

Theo Jansen’s way of seeing his strandbeesten as a new life form is kind of fun, thinks Andrew Lamb.

“At least as much as it applies to the idea of artwork as much as animals. Once you produce it, it goes out and does its own thing, interacts with the world and people, is interpreted and loved or hated, and so on.”

His interest in making puppets came when he, as a teenager fighting with his parents and don’t wanting to go to school, ended up volunteering at a small theatre, by which he could get school credits without having to go to class.

“I met a woman there who built props for a living, and I remember one morning while making a bow and arrows for “A Midsummer’s Night Dream”, deciding this would be a career that would be the least like actually work I could find. Which was foolish, because working in entertainment is often, really long hours and can be demanding. It is a case study on creating meaning in life I guess, because for the first time I was focusing and trying to get better at something. The ideal of quality and craftsmanship started to grow in my mind. In a round about way, I found meaning in my life through a trade by trying to avoid finding a “real job.”

Today, about ninety percent of his professional life is making puppets for musicals, touring shows and cruise ships. This job pays most of his bills. Beside this he also does a little of puppetteering, and various art projects.

Making a puppet for a musical requires or building a cardboard mantis for a street event is pretty much the same thing if speaking of skills and techniques. In terms of content, or meaning,though, they are two different things.

“Most of the puppets I’ve built don’t have much meaning behind them, they are just pleasing and entertaining to watch, which is totally fine and great on it’s own. Other projects of mine though, none of which have really been puppet based, tend to carry more meaning or have some reason behind them, even if it is a simple one.”

One of his most interesting and unique projects, if choosing himself, was the project that made him break through as an artist back in 2012; the Neighbourhood Watch Project. This was an installation in which he refaced “This Community Protected” municipal signs in Toronto with Mulder and Scully, Baby Yoda, My Little Pony, He-man and other cartoons’ and cult television series’ heroes from his 80’s and 90’s childhood. The project spread well through the, at the time, rather new phenomenom Instagram.

“It lent itself well to people sharing images and hash tagging them. The whole thing had a scavenger hunt aspect to it” he says.

Growing up in Toronto, Andrew Lamb had no formal training in art and he wasn’t, according to himself, raised in a very artistic household. He became kind of absorbed in the mashed up surfer, skateboard, biker and comic book aesthetics of the lowbrow style, an underground art movement that emerged in the Los Angeles area of California in the late 1960’s.

“As a younger person I was intimidated by conceptual art or “high” art, I felt like I needed a university degree to understand artistic statements I was reading, or to even talk about art. The lowbrow style seemed kind of approachable, something I could do.”

He saw a lot of other art as devoid of humour, while finding it in spades in lowbrow.

“Also I guess the aesthetic is kind of childish and easy to get; it’s very direct. 

Beside lowbrow he was also interested in culture jamming; ideological based manipulations of massmedia and advertising for example, transformations of public messages or well-known logotypes, to “expose the methods of domination” of a mass society.

The appeal to him with the Neighbourhood Watch Project wasn’t perhaps primarly to expose methods of domination, but rather just to make people happy, which he said to a reporter in Vice in 2014.

“Haha yeah, that sounds really corny to me now too, but yes, give the people bread and circus. Maybe not to be happy, but to be entertained is important.”

And people became entertained; Lamb received lots of love and appreciation from everywhere for his work.

“The media attention really caught me off guard, I didn’t even have a website at the time, or really any explanation for why I was doing it. But I think that’s what people liked about it, the anonymity of it coupled with the superhero theme. The fact that these signs seemed like a relic of another generation but the connectedness of the entire thing across a city.”

He worked with the Neighbourhood Watch Project for approxiamately six years. Some of the signs looked decent for years, he says, others peeled off in a few months.

“I’m not sure if any of them are still visible, as I have moved from Toronto. It eventually became creatively uninteresting and then, unfulfilling for me. I am prone to living in the past in my own mind, and that the project deals with nostalgia started to wear on me. The larger idea was always primary in my mind: the project as a city wide installation of unique signs, each neighbourhood or street having its own protector. Although I enjoyed the ritual of putting the signs up and curating the individual images, once the original idea was widely understood, which probably happened in the first couple years, it became more maintenance than a creative outlet.”

If anything ties all my work together, it is trying to break the rigid structure of life with some sort of intervention.

The past year has been a lot about renovating his new house in Hamilton, outside of Toronto. A few months before the pandemic and a subsequent insane inflation in housing prices all over the country, he managed to get a hold of a rough but beautiful piece for a reasonable cost. He now knows how to fix plaster walls and has also started thinking of a mural painting on the back of his garage. But apart from that, and the production of some stickers, he hasn’t done very much of creative or artistic work over the last couple of months, he says.

Sticker by Andrew Lamb. Photo: Instagram, @dcism
Sticker by Andrew Lamb. Photo: @dcmism

“I am still not sure about what kind of artist I am or how to define myself. Puppet maker? Artist? If anything ties all my work together though, regardless of meaning or form, it is trying to break the rigid and planned structure of life and work with some sort of intervention. I realize that might sound like a vapid Peter Pan type goal, but it still rings true to me. I’ve always loved stickers, especially ones that are unique. Like the kind you would find in a truck stop vending machine, that you would probably never see again. I like graffiti and stickers and the idea of competition for public and mental space.”

If speaking generally, he thinks it’s easier to get out with the things you want to say today.

“Even if some of the channels like Instagram or Facebook are kind of mediated and have their way of how you communicate and what the algorithm prioritizes. It’s no longer like it was in the beginning when anyone would make just a random website which looked like nothing else. I think artists often prioritize social media over having your own website now, which is unfortunate. The internet was supposed to be an open space, and was like the wild west for a while, anything goes. It seems we have given ourselves over to being organized and sorted by tech companies, I get it, there are really positive aspects of them, it’s much easier to find new artists or have them suggested to you, no coding, no hosting fees, but there is something in the constant hustle and visible follower metrics for comparison that is certainly unhealthy for peoples mental well-being.”

The current COVID-19 pandemic has had different implications for art professionals around the world. Some haven’t been able to work much at all, others have found completely new venues, and some have expanded their online presence, in an attempt to reach the audience. What the pandemic will do for artists, or for art itself, in the long run, Andrew Lamb isn’t sure of.

“Obviously this is a strange time with the pandemic, but I suppose that will return to normal eventually. I think the bigger long term change is with social media and the decentralization of media and information and that has been happening for the last 10 years or longer. I’m not sure what this means for art collectors or art institutions, but it has certainly has changed things for pop art and commercial, small scale producer art, easier exposure, marketing and easier to sell your own art. Especially now with NFT’s apparently for digital art. But I suppose its still difficult to stand out in this large social media jungle, everyone wants your attention.” 🥕

Andrew Lamb with the Running Rabbit puppet. Photo: @dcmism 

More on dinosaurs on

USHiRi Magazine got a drawing of a Tricarrotops recently, made by the artist Harenheit. This veggie-horned reptile must have some sort of relation to the Wendiceratops that Lamb interpreted for the Royal Ontario Museum (see top of article), we believe. There is no current research on it (at least what we’ve found), but after having examined its features we think there is a possibility at least for a matter of maybe second cousins?

Anyway, next week we’ll try to get under its skin to see if we can reveal some of its secrets. Look out for that!

*UPDATE 06/21 -21* Here are our findings: ” A crunch from the past” – Story by Anna and Art by Harenheit

Carrot soup – Build your body with carrots

Text: Anna & Ushiri

In opposite to some people’s belief, meat protein isn’t really necessary when building muscels. There are seveal vegan athletes and body builders online…

today, to find the strenght to start this new site, we eat carrot soup.

Our opinions:

Ushiri: I feelt a strong urge to start infusing carrots in liquid form into my body since I feelt the taste was a bit weak and there for this seems like the most unlogical idea to get more carrot inside you 🙂

Anna: I like the texture with chunky bits of vegetables and cheese. The overall taste is a little bit anonymous but good anyhow…

Some months ago, Svenska Dagbladet also told about what good can come out of different carrot usages. If you have a scar for example, just put some carrot (like aloe vera) on it, and watch it heal. In all we give this Swedish carrotsoupfrom Felix 3 carrots in total.

If you have other recipes feel free to write to us 🙂