Home? in Berlin, December 14, 1995

Dream: In my dream almost everything was red. I took a walk with 8 men as some sort of bodyguards. I didn't know them and have never seen them before in my life. I can hardly remember how they looked like, but they were all of different skin color. They wore black suits and Cylinder-Hats. They were carrying my red gown. At each seam there was one person. The beads on the dress were rolling off like tears and falling with a slight sound on the floor, like ice-crystals on glass. Immediately they were melting when touching a human being. The floor was red, felt like grass, but it sounded like the pearls would fall in tar. The grass was slightly hot and when I looked down to see why I realized that I was walking on a screen, on thousand and thousand of letters. On my dress were thousands of white and slightly rose handkerchiefs, dripping through the silk of my skirt. We finally had to go into the water and started to swim. The handkerchiefs turned into water lilies and the letter beads into sea foam. In the back I heard a voice: alles nur schein (just an illusion). I saw the screen of a monitor, totally red: welcome!. I woke up pretty nasty and not really relaxed from sleeping. My headache is back again, welcome nasty visitor. I hate Berlin, this nasty old mood sitting here and digesting the smoke from burning coal and the smell of cooked kraut . Maybe this is the only way I am able to travel so much, living in Berlin makes me leaving Berlin and leaving this city keeps my mind flexible but homeless. I don't want to deal with all these dreams. strange: Yesterday I was at L., were I had to meet S. to discuss details on my piece that I'll be doing for C. The meeting went well and they gave me 5 to 8 pages for my project. There was an old man, not that he was really old, maybe between 50 and 60, but he seemed so old and desperate. It was finally after S. and everybody else had left we were still discussing some further details, how to set it up. Then I just packed my things together, pretty strange. He asked me if I wanted to talk with him for a little while and have some coffee. I had an hour extra, so I thought it should be fine if I stay another 20 minutes before rehearsing (I can't stand the theater at the moment anyhow). He showed me the "German Issue", which is a rare book/ magazine published in the end if the eighties on Germany's divided parts. Its a great book with essays by Levinas, Virillio, Christo, Baudrillard just to mention a couple. I would have loved to read the book its just a really well-known collection of essays, but its in no library, nowhere you can find it. So I sat there and discussed their publishing policy with him and we started to talk about family background and writers and motivation. Suddenly this man put his head between his legs and started to cry. He said that his brothers are Fascists and this is why he is working so hard... to work of his past...what happened then made me go as quickly as possible... When I got out of the house the streets were steaming and it was getting dark. I had this weird fantasy of seeing faces in the back of a van that was leaving in front of me, when I was waiting for the red light to turn green. One of the faces screamed Regina and I felt it was him. Suddenly somebody put his hand on my shoulder, it was A. my dance partner asking me if I was OK...