You can transform a piece of prose into a theatre play and it´s even easy if there´s a story line. But what about a saucerful of poems with a deliberately chosen chaotic structure? As a theatre manager you might pitch your own version, choose some pictures, leave out what doesn´t seem to make sense, mix it up and put it together. What seems to be kind of central idea you take as a stage setting. So, in this case there were hundreds of hand-folded paper ships on the stage. A woman in a transparent rain coat and a cowboy hat stood under a waterfall (or did she just imagine standing there?), she unrolled a pell and read aloud a message. There were others around, nobody listened. Time travel, place travel. Loop me in, could you? Since I was a child and a spotted the first graffiti I remember (which sayd: I was here) I´ve always dreamed of writing a message on a lamppost. What did it mean to be here, anywhere? There was no dog, no barking. I can´t choose what I would remember. It´s all about taking part in something you don´t know. This as all a digression. There is no centre. That´s not what I wrote. I´m not like the picture you might have in your mind. No more stars at the end of the night. I recognized those poems and I didn´t. It was part of my life and it wasn´t. I read everyone was a mixture of the five most nearest persons in his or her life. This is not a matter of time or place. I nearly didn´t dare to breathe.
Thanks to Jan Wambsganß