Why should I photograph strange people?
I’m rather interested in the gaps.
The gap between the foot and the wall.
Between the hand and the bench
you ask for understanding
the less you get,
(André my teacher to me)
You should only
with a touch
that asks nothing
I can’t do that, said the actor.
I’m dead and I want the life from you.
The question about intimacy.
And over and over:
You believe to see something,
but you don’t see anything.
Closeness and directness are being suggested
that is disproven when considered closely.
the voyeuristic which is secretly hoped to be seen,
we are like children
are my eyes able to lie?
When I wake up, I don’t remember where I am.
We paint what we did
…are older grown, then you’ll realise that photos pictures can be eaten.“
They’re only laughing.
They don’t need pictures.
They only know one time. (They’re still clear and light as clean water.)
But me I eat pictures every night. In the yellow light when everybody is sleeping. (In order to have enough.)
(Every night I eat pictures. In the yellow light when everybody is sleeping.)
When everybody is sleeping
In the night when everybody is sleeping, I eat pictures in the yellow glow of the…
February 18th 97
Mainstation Zurich in the train.
We’re not running yet.
The old lady in the compartment next to me says:
„Could you please close the window? There is a draft.“
I say no.
Picture of the past night. blurry.
Dark hair and white cloth, eyes that eat into my body like moving fire. Grained memories next to it.
I don’t know if it’s allowed to smoke there.
I still have a darling sure
I don’t always carry a grand in my pocket.
Depressed eastern photograph
Clothes: vapid colours
Card and checked pattern
Doesn’t like to comment on the future.
What can’t be seen anymore? Distinction from the past.
Old people, children, kitties, animals, you’ll get all four.
I don’t want to ask anything, I think, he doesn’t like to answer.
red lipstick. Blood red.
his picture in
Why don’t we
where our power of imagination
The only thing
that calms me right now
is to trace photos,
over and over
go away sun
I need to work
I draw to live.
It’s like having a lot of letters
crystallising out, but I can’t
find the word that reveals
almost getting crazy therefore
All these streams reveal a whole and I can’t see it, can’t locate
or define it, but still
I can exactly feel it, every touch, every traction
Maybe I’ll find out when I’m in loneliness.
… tied up chicken, I think the hole of the detached head is also
Good. But that’s it
I told this guy that I’m an artist.
It’s obvious, that I start to photograph there where others stop.
Would love to create pictures that are addictive.
Pictures that are not simply hung upon a wall, but
Pictures that are more or less hidden somewhere,
e.g. in the laundry that is taken out again and again and has to be looked at
almost inevitably over and over.
Pictures that maybe in the first place shock and repel, be