prayer

to be lucky enough not to have to ask some people for certain things. to have the luxury of ecological solutions, of freedom from exploiting the small and poor ones; of faith in justice. to be able to allow yourself not to agree to a compromise. to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth and have a chance to remain human till the very end.

nosferatu

I'm standing with my back tightly against the wall, the sun is whipping my face. "Watch the sun until it becomes square"*, wrote Yoko Ono, but to me this sun is striking, I am staggering.


* "sun piece", winter 1962

fjarskanistan, amiina.

this day, this dusk. slowly I'm getting reconciled to the cold and the lack. for the 45 days after which there is you.

when you leave a place, the world seems to be slowing down. I have scenes from today before my eyes. cold hands of an Ukrainian woman. a fur dog toy in a shop window. a man at the post office, his daughter. it is when I become an affected school girl. which doesn't make my life easier at all.

images go faster and faster, the color gets blurred. the core stands still. it feels old. it tilts its head to the side and breathes quietly. it murmurs like the Tuvans and it knows somewhere there is you.

end so it has come

Her name is Magda.