REPORT ON ZINGMAGAZINE AT ART COLOGNE, 1999 [SIC] • COLOGNE, GERMANY

11 10 99 Picking up zingmagazine stuff from the headquarters to the airport. Everything is OK, the taxi driver talks and acts as a cellular phoned human been. If we crash there will be no difference between his before and after face. We arrived to the airport on time. The same boring questions when check-in. The same boring answers. The Jumbo was enough spacious for me and for the rest of the 400 passengers. I was tired. I fell asleep.
11 11 99 Frankfurt, very early in the morning. Gee! I need something. A shower? A bed? A Coke? You bet. I move quick to get my flight to Cologne. I run. Jogging with a lap top at my back is my favorite sport. Yeah! I got into the plane. Orange juice is my reward. Finally I arrived to my destination.
Cologne. The baggage belt is moving. I see my suitcase. I see some of the boxes with the magazine in. I do not see all the boxes. I see problems. The belt stops. A very soft but intense fuck comes out from my mouth. I complain. They understand. I complain more. They just keep understanding. Understanding is all about. They tell me the rest of my baggage is in Frankfurt or maybe New York. I complain. They understand. FUCK!
Art Cologne. Registration. I meet Sabine Schumacher. She cheers me, she smiles me, she tells me how happy she is of meeting someone from zing. I got scared. I sign here and there and she covers me with IDs and red color pins. I got nervous. The she tells me FOLLOW ME. I look at her and I want to yell NO. I follow her. She leads me to my booth. On the way she keeps cheering at me. I scare. We got the booth. She is happy. I am afraid. Understanding before and cheering now is all about. She leaves.
I start setting and displaying the zing stuff. I go crazy. The location is perfect. After installing the mags, the stickers, the encapsulated balloons, the postcards, the laptop and the vertical displayers the booth looks like a fake tramp Star Trek five generation cockpit. I love it. I am the captain. I can feel my face. I wear a satisfaction smile. I know many things already. I open the laptop. I do everything. I click. Nothing. I click again. Nothing. My smiling face fades away. My aircraft can not take off. At this point of my situation people start asking me for the magazines, for the air balloons, for everything less the computer. My drama. They love my drama. They do not give a shit for nothing when they realize about this crazy booth. I am flying again.
11 12 99 Early in the morning. Breakfast is abundant. I am cold. The room is OK but they turn off the heat during the night. I need calories. I eat then I go to he fair. I ask Amy from Artnet to fix the problem of my computer. She tries, I fail, we fail. Hours later Paul saves the situation. Bravo. Everybody knows very well the magazine. They start cheering the mag. I do my day. At the hotel the rest of the baggage has just arrived. My day is done.
11 13 99 Cold. I take my breakfast. This time it is extra large, extra loaded. I know today’s goal is to deal with Walther Konig book shop. I can not fail. I go. I am at the shop. It is a great location. I ask for Christian Posthofen. They tell me that he is at the fair all day long. Fuck! I run to the fair. I meet him. We talk. He wants it. He wants the magazine. I give him 13 issues for testing. He tells me he knows it is going to work. I smile and I go back to my cockpit, to fly high and high.
11 14 99 Cold. Sleepy. Today is the last day at the fair. I will do it. Everything is OK. They will remember me. Yeah. I visit many galleries. I give them an issue and they love it. All of them want further info about ad rates. All of them: Ulrich Gebauer, Martin Bochynek, Micheline Szwajcer, Stella Lohaus, Christian Nagel, Lipanje Puntin, Anthony d’Offay, Nanky de Vreeze, Lothar Albrecht, Brgitte Trotha, De Vreeze & Living Stone, Galerie und Edition Hundertmark, Monika Reitz, Hammelehle und Ahrens,Serge Ziegler, and Ars Futura (these guys also subscribed). I sell eight issues till the last minute. People get crazy with the air balloons, with the stickers and the chopped fingers on the laptop. They ask if we do parties in Europe because they have been at the ones in NYC. I say we will, we will, WE WILL. End of day. Sabine Schumacher cheers me again. She tells me see you next year. I smile.
11 15 99 Six am. Time to leave. The last breakfast. I check out, ask for a taxi. Cold. I can see the stars. I run the highway, I fly the sky, I circle the sun. Julia Roberts and Richard Gere in the screen, in their cheap world. Do I deserve this end? Eyes wide shut.
Dear Devon. Sorry to tell you this but you can not consider yourself such a loser anymore. Your f/sucking magazine is a total success.

Luis Macias
Cologne, Germany
1999