On the train..

My friend and me - riding the train from A to B.
Roots and wings. Where to go, where to stay?
Me in between, within this space which appears while moving. Trainrides - pure freedom to me.
Same thing riding my bike. Wings growing - while knowing my roots - home - may be me only - only me.
Mum and Dad, too - Home - less defined by space itself.. Easy to say cause I am able to locate my childhood!
Being moved by my beloved ones makes me accept that I wount be able to exist on a moving train - neither while riding my bike continuously. Me myself - I have to be moving constantly - might be because I know where I belong or still don't know. I know who I am and wanna be - who I wanna be with. Where - does not matter. Is it right to do what I only divine? Constantly polishing my instincs.. Constantly playing around with cautious constructs only making me stuck to the ground - while holding on to a kite up there. Who am I? This person holding on to the string - or the kite who takes the risk to get lost. I guess the weather does matter. Focusing on the wind - observing either roughness or gentleness - I have to be flexible as they say and either spread my wings or curl up the string a bit more and stay at home until the storm might be gone. Still I wount hide - by facing what comes along.


Thank you S.L.H. for coming back to one of your "homes".



G.E.S., I wish you a glance of something what could mean "home" to you - soon!

My view through a window in Vienna After having seen A. Brodskys exhibition

Yesterday I had time to walk through the exhibiton of the Russian architect and artist
"Alexander Brodsky. It still amazes me that I became an architect." Most of his projects ask the viewer to define its purpose - is this an installation or can I actually live here? The choice of material connected to his origin Russia, do speak about the rapid loss of historic buildings everywhere, so in Moscow. Especially his sensitive way of constructing Rotunda I and II, so the 95° restaurant or the Vodka Ceremony Pavillon become authentic because of its simple but poetic way of construction and pointing softly at transience as a matter of existence. The man who sees himself as both: an artist and including more responsibility further more as an architect, was born the same year as my mother. Starring into a pelvis filled with oil, seeing all this objects mirrored and taken out of the every day context, made me think of myself and the my silhouttes, meaning authenticity within this system getting soaked.

Get inspired, still until the 3rd of October!

http://www.azw.at/event.php?event_id=1123

auch wahnsinnig witzig- aber echt!

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auf der bank.

kurzer moment
auf bank
in graz.

Danke Cmk für's Abbilden!

schirme...

Haarschirm vor Lampenschirm findet Bildschirm