Little Goa
“Little Goa” is the name of Ineke and Barth’s cottage, where I am staying during my two-week residency at Piccardthof.
After graduating from the Gerrit Rietveld Academie in Amsterdam in 2022, I started working full-time as a barista in a vegan, organic, gluten- and sugar-free café. I earned 11.26 euros per hour. My first paycheck went to rent, loan repayments, and groceries. With what was left, I bought a silicone fake pregnant belly. I would put it on in the morning, stop by a photography studio, and spend the rest of the day wearing my bump.
I became the one thing I believe many people become when they don’t know who they want to be or what they want to do.
A month later, I was promoted to Barista+, earning one more euro per hour. A month after that, I was about to be promoted to assistant manager. I quit. I then worked as an art handler, artist assistant, bakery truck driver, cleaner, curator, editor, hostess, painter, and waitress. I now work as a cook in a bouldering hall. I had never not been a student, and I didn’t like it.
In March 2023, I was admitted to the Low-Res MFA at SAIC (School of the Art Institute of Chicago). I was ecstatic until I realised the exorbitant tuition fees, a factor I naively overlooked. I contacted every organisation and individual I thought might be able to help. Unfortunately, securing 50,000 dollars in less than four months was more difficult than anticipated. I was already considering declining my admission when my father attempted suicide. I gave up on the program and blamed it on him.
I spent May, June, and July at a self-funded artist residency in eastern France. I was looking forward to being bored, but I realised I preferred blaming my lack of energy and motivation on my busy schedule. I intended to create physical works but didn’t follow through, uninspired and struggling to justify making objects in a world saturated with waste and images.
In August 2023, I joined het resort’s midseason program for starting artists.
On November 23, our group visited Piccardthof for the first time, the surprise location of our exhibition, but I was down with pharyngitis. Jim, who was my boyfriend at the time, took care of me. We met in September. Jim is tan, muscular, and lives alone in a flat his parents bought for him. He kept me warm, and I occasionally got lost in his eyes, but he didn’t give me butterflies. Still, I sometimes fantasised about moving in together. He would graduate, and we would move to Brazil. We would get a dog. He would spend his days kite-surfing, and I surely would have found something to occupy myself.
When I recovered, I built a vegetable garden in my bedroom.
I grew up in Paris. I never had a garden or been interested in having one. But I filled my bedroom floor with soil, compost, and tree bark and sowed multiple species of leafy greens.
Many things have happened since graduating, yet not much has changed, and more often than not, every day feels the same. I sleep a lot, but I am always tired. I have strange dreams. I wake up sweating. A couple of weeks ago, I dreamt that my father and mother killed themselves and that my brother choked on a piece of paper. I have been wondering how to make art when everything around me feels like it is falling apart.
Gardening is more difficult than I anticipated. My bedroom lacks sufficient sunlight, the air is damp, and most seedlings don’t make it to the vegetative stage. I sleep with the window open and wear an eye mask. I garden a little bit every day, whenever I feel like it or whenever I have time. I like the look of surprise on people’s faces when I tell them about it.
While I am staying at Piccardthof, a friend is watering my garden. I don’t see Jim anymore. I wake up at twelve every day and don’t eat very well. But I like it here. It is the first time I have written anything since graduating and the first time I have been compensated for my artistic practice. I have been reading a lot. I don’t look at my phone as often as I usually do. And everything around me is pretty.
Email: madeleine.peccoux@gmail.com
Instagram: @madeleinepeccoux
Website: madeleineelisabethpeccoux.com