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 destructions 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 it's 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 stupidity 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