 |
||||
 |
||||
 |
||||
| zurück |
| The year nowhere bonjour how are you? busy i guess. I am writing little numbers in bundeskulturstiftung excel sheets its boring and looking through my photodocumentation missing to hear from you i bought a semiotexte guattari book in oslo it starts like this: when i was a child, I was, so to speak, in pieces; really a little schizo around the edges. I spent years trying to put myself back together again. Only my thing was, I would pull along different pieces of reality in doing it. it came in a pettibon bag drinking beer at the deserted swimming pool (its during the night - i just swam) listening to - egill there was another line in one of egills songs i just understood by hearing it at the concert - did i tell you ? freestyle in the motherfucking bed alone did i tell you about the goethe drawing. goethe in rome drawn by tischbein - this friend who did the big famous goethe in the campagna there is goethe throwing a pillow out of the bed. this one says: Damned second pillow hotel room situation we are near the airport - planes landing and taking off no time for me to sleep three hours in advance i was thinking a lot about kippenberger lately kippenberger now in the big saatchi collection as one of the major five painters in recent oh my, will we end up as painters if we touch this answer to people cant live anymore i was waiting at the arrival gates in istanbul airport there were huge crowds of people waiting with video cameras and huge movements long awaited loves returning - family reuniting intimate situations i somehow saw where you are (i know not alltogether though also) and where i had wished myself into but how could i and who would be reporting from dubai how it is to be nowhere oh i just see, it is weekend, here the week starts tomorrow kolay gelsin flying over sarajevo looking at godards eloge d’amour at the point when its about the serbs committing war crimes in kosovo i looked up and the small drawn airplane crossed the indicated sarajevo of the map the film says: memories have no obligations. Read Bergson ! ok i will and i knew it. perhaps forgot it but it also says there can be no resistance without memory or universalism the airplane flew in a very narrow curve gaining height only slowly second time to see bratislava form the air in 24 hours. there are three days of a monstruos conferences here the synopsis of the - reentering politics into art - says something like: our life having ben shaped by 11th of september and 11th documenta ???!!! crowded with people who want to listen to from jacques ranciere to roger buergel last year you were flying through a snowstorm to malmoe to meet me in kopenhagen which was very nice - copenhagen fake english pubs and fake mongolian barbecues and cold streets i still cant use my computer. the tastatur is too narrow and writing is strange I missed the plane again and perhaps you may imagine my state of mind when i woke up at ten and was still in berlin and still drunk and feeble had to organise everything and still drunk and feeble booked a flight and then still drunk and feeble i took one of the ephedrines (first time in my life to really get me working) this is destroying my concentration abilities. and i missed you in this crazy timepressured not at all summer (meanwhile now it is hot here but doesnt mean anything besides of smelly airplanes and people who sweat) i hope this is not totally destroying your impression of me i mean that i dont manage (and lost a lot of money - but dont want to think of it) seemingly not even getting up with a clock and from now on i will never say - i will wake up anyway i dont. in bratislava its a new way of connecting vienna and berlin to go via bratislava i did it the first time yesterday when i came and now i am back at bratislava airport flying to berlin in one hour at the bar the waiter disappeared the moment i came two flights one to berlin one to kosice, these are their destinations i drove with the bus through the winter desert through this town i have once made a study for (studying study nothing) where you enter by the medieval towndoor and leave it at the oposite i spent days there. it was in summer and even in this christmas decoration i remembered the dull athmosphere of this iron curtained frontier town frontier since ever with a very narrow street called blutgasse where the blood of the inhabitants was streaming into the danube, slaugthered by the turcs the saying and another time i was there in winter then (it took us a year to make this) and nobody was in the town it was totally deserted and we discovered them on a small side arm of the danube scating (this was in winter 1564) it is freezing cold outside i feel strange estranged, this is not my airport, this is not my part of the world this is some colony of international cheap flights they dont even sell cigarettes as there is only eu passengers flying to eu countries even when being in the eu also here but still the cigarette prizes that low that i guess this was a contract they had to sign to join, to not sell cigarettes to us and they do it (secretely at the bar) for 1euro50 this bus trip deterritorializes me totally. they play pet shop boys in the slovakian radio. there are perhaps five people at the whole airport why am i one of these ?? it is not bad but it feels as if i lived like this foreever and the next place would be another airport where i would connect to the internet and write to whomever, of whom for some time i dont even know anymore if he or she existed all of this journeys consists of pictures, sometimes i wonder how many of them cumulate in this short times when you dont have nothing to do or concentrate on and if they are of any use we are boarding to berlin i read a novel in the bus where the main characters wife and child had died in a plane crash in the s-bahn through snow stained berlin a russian couple sat next to me, me reading at one moment he held out his hand and their fingers touched in the middle of the aisle and remembering like a shock pushed me into the seat of the metro my dear i didn't even think about the exhibition in helsingborg again this is wrong everything seems psychedelic failing i need plans - even when they turn out incomplete we would make i think i am not gong to give it a title its not really consistent and shouldnt be and this is why the text is really fine in not bringing it together in one piece its just like different thoughts and things i remembered or saw and wanted to bring together and see how it looks when i see it again the text - thank you very much sombre, sombre, but i will do something to make it a little bit funny though and this will be like the poem which came to my mind while sleeping the last half an hour (thanks to the fact i put the heating full blast and together with my smoking) i found in a poem book i bought in prag a long time ago say i'm weary say i'm sad say that wealth and health have missed me say i am getting old but add jenny kissed me there is malice viciousness malevolens we will see there is something in the interior with it (the interieur more than the interior i mean the coffee cup with the plate in my hand is not part of my life) it insists on kept lifes you wouldnt stand me at the moment i fear i have another fit of nervosity and anxiousness and disconcentration because i am so upset on what it happening in fallujah and the lack of information and knowing that this is a city (better say was a city) 300.000 inhabitats like halle, graz, oslo and the news is like totally ignoring the monstrosity of walking into every house by blowing up one of the walls (they learned from israel - palestine raids) total destruction like as if this was no place were people live and still are and just i dont know what picture there is in these minds but how can someone put down flowers because of the destrcutions in dresden (like they do every year) i am getting mad at it somehow comparable to my venezuela fit i had and years ago and in this bad state i go through guardian, liberation, le monde and all the bloggs and all the sites and i dont find anything there is just no-one there allowed to enter or leave and tell about it there are no journalists there is no news agency no telephones not even red something aids agencies just soldiers going from house to house blowing up this city i will be stuck in bratislava again today some hours ghosts transgressing various borders its all mine i know i visited goethes house still no electrictiy and heating as was. a huge house and various situations of appostrophed "here is a working place" the writing room, the collections, the library, places for people to visit somewhere then a small bed the huge glyptos everywhere (but heads) guattari writes about the abyss lying in the "so what?" people trying to avoid as the possible literally suffocating by compairing it to swann being half mad after odette had left him, fleeing every trace of her being there is an answer to this in the book though this was my weimar talk (about or along this) then showing some of the things i did some sun now i will go swimming again and then into turkish airline flight 1 and then turkish airline flight two and then i will be in the snow i was out the whole day lots of indian advertisment, shops with boilers, dolls or hairclips whatever one would imagine hundreds of small scale import export individuals the origin of some consumption scheme covering the whole world its very astonishing writing i miss you as sms was a joke still i miss you but you know i found out airplanes are actually mind machines or perhaps its the clouds if they are right beyond you when making the circles over airports looking like the sea i will be in all these possibilities again there is now snow outside in the morning i had my telephone repaired, maybe it was just not connected there is a faint hint to this, my own spupidity but the monteur was polite enough, very friendly and a bit flirtatious, discovered some minor other thing (like a broken plastic piece) because otherwise i would have had to pay since then i try to get flatrate but my technically interested environment prohibits the use of telecom (ruining free access and so forth) and now i am entangled in small differentiations beyond my possibilities to distinguish while i am waiting for money to come in, i decide to be nowhere this year that seems to be the year nowhere long telephones and long talks dirk says, as if you stumbled and then you dont get back the equilibrium, seems connected to flying somehow then: Now, no mistakes which results in him paying five rents. How can we save our last bit of glamour in the starship Dirk started making the foot for me i made a hand we spent our day yesterday like this huh the raf exhibition is really bad (they have set up a huge kasbah for hans peter feldmanns work which is actually published in a book, and much better in the book than in this shrine now, but for that they already spent 100.000 of their budget) then it gets worse, pictures with gudrun on it actually only kippenbergers work is nice my dearest, i woke up, got coffee from my friend, already awake, opened the window lay in the sun and walked out, fetched the photos from ankara (i had not developed them yet, the hand and foot from there) and then on to pro qm met axel, and talked about art magazines he pulled out art monthly. this is how a magazine should look like who is doing it some chain smoking marxists, really i walked into their office once, its unbelievable (axel has quit smoking some time ago) oh its like in our office, really worse so i also bought it hmhm this is how a magazine should look like, lets see what we can do now back at home its still sunny, i will go to kreuzberg the snow is dripping from roofs, construction workers whistle at girls, fancy cloth makers open their deserted shops no tourists i was thinking a lot lately about what a strange town berlin was in the middle of the 90s a totally empty town (the east) just somehow getting slowly conquered by people but unstructured (no food, how to get food was the biggest problem always) when i met klaus and others they always used to go for saturdays breakfast into some cellar like bar even when sun, i never understood, until they explained to me, that it was because they had nutella there (me from vienna: but nutella is everywhere) nono, this was really something to even creep into cellars they didnt give us anything to eat. and as for sydney i think somehow about this proposal of another life in an empty town my ankara wheather forecast dosnt work anymore they must have shifted the address from where it was drawn, (i could always tell you when it would be getting cold there) so, europe is cold. i miss- tabellamp - tea cups - squared paper - hands and so forth, but forza, and i should the inclined plane is a very prominent theme in books people tend to look on what is flat in front of their eyes but mobile bookstands is even more a french-turkish theme than one from here there should be a place to hang one picture i think (a single nail) a duwenhögger or a letter painting: like: L'amour c'est facile of whats his name armand ? but nice the cloth as can be used also for a mobile photography studio you know where they roll out the paper place the models on it, so that there is no edge between wall and floor just them, well lit and you should go on to invent a mobile library rietfeld chairs with a sunroof, to be packed in a box markus took the measures of all of his books, constructed a box with shelves in the dimensions, it's on wheels to be moved but only in the flat and the front and back plate just fixed with magnets but this bases in an accomplished life not a prosperous growing society like turkey no, this is swiss, this is exactly what we need to know (i now remember a beamer was part of it) i just read a nabokov novel and in there someone remembers the story of a boy being sucked into the painting over his bed it is a child who knows the story, with a similar picture over his bed, threading his mother will find the similarity and fearing to lose him, will get rid of the painting. So was I, sucked into the description of forests or more park and lights between trees, summer and all the noises of bees and nerving insects, anyway seemed somewhere at least. when i came back it had become spring here sunny and warm but not in moscow, snow everywhere, remembering it, and it is totally far away meanwhile i only came back twelve hours ago a city totally out of order, drugs, pornography, cars, money no wonder an artist disappears during the biennial disappearing seems to be everywhere there, they are fourteen millions and it snows and snows yesterday i wandered through the city alone, a car hit me, not bad, just the back mirror but still without stopping getting into layers of clothes at coffee houses when leaving then again peeling them off again, indoor places being heated excessively getting invited invited we dont like experiences here they said, but there will be and were so many experiences in the last years and to come now i am here again, going to istanbul soon still we want to buy this flat and i will see your exhibition but i am anyway still nowhere, like what the next starship will be about just showing models in sydney is naturally far too meaningless, i know and i dont want to do something empty like this, still its this sort of theme thing - a commentaire and i dont know if i can do this as sophisticated as you did, danger is, it only looks poor (in my-this case) and its not a time where things to do, woudn't count, everything counts at the moment. i even think about making a new film for this manchester, leeds the place i forgot. i am sometimes sad, as if i have to learn something i dont understand and dont want bonjour mon ami the last hours i spent on the highway with the director of un-habitat who wanted to bring me to the airport but had a flat tire on her way she a totally lunatic only agreed i could take a taxi until it was ten minutes to my boarding time or something i was totally overwhelmed by so much unpractical thinking. i thought all of these people went through years of missions in iraq or whereever. tomorrow i will try the text for axel and try to return to berlin and not stay here until sunday it would make me sick and makes me currently more and more sick these two days in graz were very nice and strange conversations mostly late at night i took the train back and was only looking out of the window we drove through the castle landscape hundreds of small castles or ruins on every hill. as this is 12th or 13th century it must have been really crowded there considering that there were still the villages in the valleys. then came into the mountains and snow. clouds were very low and dark as if it would snow soon again. the mountains deserted, only the huge 19th century hotels now abandoned looked like the shining. i fell asleep now and then. it was absolutely quiet in the train nobody speaking besides of nearly nobody in. south central station looked like bukarest and the weather here cold as deep winter. i liked the train and especially after the hotel room where i had worked a bit with american soaps in the background all celebrating christmas ???, why now i wonder and the turkish programme celebrating ramadan which why i better see. graz is beautiful with a river coming from the mountains. the difference to the berlin river i noticed for the first time, its ten times faster looks really wild. i took walks with hans christian set in posh cafés talking about the feeling of potency of things to come i wanted to be in this half awake half still asleep talking mode or even in the dining car. they had nice things even real coffee with an espresso machine people were smoking in there as if their lifes depended on it its so different from germany. (no coffee, not allowed to smoke etc.) have a nice trip i am now at the vienna airport internet access in a test phase so for free i was talking with hans christian me saying. but everyone went away from berlin he: but i talked to someone in hamburg and they said, everyone went away from hamburg, they must be somewhere, cant have all just vanished so i said. when i come to vienna, everyone is still there. and he: vienna seems to be the modern city, seems that, after all, sebastian was right (he had written a text in starship on this); we shouldnt move anymore you very much turmoiled my life oh this was only in the business lounge (that you turmoiled ? no the internet access) i have a strange time setting it up again (what now ? the internet access ? the life ?) have to go into the airplane i had the strange experience of dining with a hongkong millionaire in the afternoon i went through the park and looked at birds in this late summer sky i hate mzungus in africa unfortuately i am one but next to me there is a very ugly type making up with the local street girls tomorrow my friend crispin comes from his security service nightshift to have breakfast he wrote a theatre play that i should make a film out of and the internet comes and goes and this is a short note about everything that is fine with me at the moment- it is |
| Starship Nummer 10, Seiten 56ff |
| zurück |