But buried underneath all this detritus in a wooden box there were his texts, and here is where it became obvious that the crazy performances in the Rastro were simply the starting point for what would be the real work of overwriting because none of his writing was done on blank paper it seemed he could only write on pages already prepared and printed upon. So the text appeared superimposed on the back or underneath photographs, flyers,the pages he’d saved from the old textbooks and encyclopedias he’d loved so much so that his words mingled with the images ( and sometimes the text) of the printed pages. Some had been printed in bright blue ink, some lovingly handwritten, some typed in red ink to stand out from the words beneath. Most of the texts took the form of diatribes, slogans ,short essays or just loose phrases. But reading through them they seemed to add up to a philosophy of chaos that fascinated me 
... a Borgesian dream project, a modern illuminated manuscript, a vision of Blake´s graphic poetry, Swift´s satires, the tirade of a new romantic pamphleteer, the texts of a philosophy of Radical Ecology ...a collection of discarded textbooks, dictionaries and encyclopedias reinscribed with the authors texts and interventions ...a series of objects and actions relating to the above...
How I discovered....(fanzine version)
It was a large room, the only furniture a mattress and a wooden chair in one corner. The walls were bare , the floor without covering but in the middle of the room a huge pile had been heaped together just like the ones he made in the Rastro. Here was the gold mine he’d left- all the relics of his life gathered together in a careering mass of magazines, records, books, pieces of junk, old photographs, costume jewellery, press clippings and articles on a wide variety of topics,including some on his recent rise to notoriety. 
But buried underneath all this detritus in a wooden box there were his texts, and here is where it became obvious that the crazy performances in the Rastro were simply the starting point for what would be the real work of overwriting because none of his writing was done on blank paper it seemed he could only write on pages already prepared and printed upon. So the text appeared superimposed on the back or underneath photographs, flyers,the pages he’d saved from the old textbooks and encyclopedias he’d loved so much so that his words mingled with the images ( and sometimes the text) of the printed pages. Some had been printed in bright blue ink, some lovingly handwritten, some typed in red ink to stand out from the words beneath. Most of the texts took the form of diatribes, slogans ,short essays or just loose phrases. But reading through them they seemed to add up to a philosophy of chaos that fascinated me
But buried underneath all this detritus in a wooden box there were his texts, and here is where it became obvious that the crazy performances in the Rastro were simply the starting point for what would be the real work of overwriting because none of his writing was done on blank paper it seemed he could only write on pages already prepared and printed upon. So the text appeared superimposed on the back or underneath photographs, flyers,the pages he’d saved from the old textbooks and encyclopedias he’d loved so much so that his words mingled with the images ( and sometimes the text) of the printed pages. Some had been printed in bright blue ink, some lovingly handwritten, some typed in red ink to stand out from the words beneath. Most of the texts took the form of diatribes, slogans ,short essays or just loose phrases. But reading through them they seemed to add up to a philosophy of chaos that fascinated me 
