Berlin, February 9, 1996

A bright day, the light of the sun threw warm squares into the hallway of my studio. I swept the dust and snips of paper, scraps of fabric, lint and dried leaves and flowers away from my last period of creation. Unpacked the installations and reviews from the Kunsthaus in Hamburg and Frankfurt. It is really amazing how fast-food most newspaper's are. Information the faster the better, it as if I could see the words running over their screens and disappearing in a lake of disorientation. Ten years ago I used to read two daily newspapers and one weekly. How serious did I take the fist article about me. I was furious because Giorgione was mixed up with Giorno. Since I find at least twenty-five reviews about myself a year I stopped completely believing in the wisdom of newspaper. The best of them are really amusing, once I lived for ten years in a squat under a dress, another time I sewed 28 different languages on my dress and once I wrote the Babata archives (which means that I am approximately 1798 years old). It doesn't matter what you tell them, they write what they want to see. Then there is someone who really does research, thinks and listen. Those people are rare and gems. It is good to talk with them and it's fun to develop ideas out of the dialogue, to weave thoughts together and cut them apart again. With those I could sit for hours.... The articles coming back from Hamburg remain on the surface, they will be floating away with the next breeze. (Except the Screen portrait which is really written well) On the other side I think words are not really able to grasp a lot within a couple of lines anyway and that I am a visual artist, so fortunately I got a lot of good looking images. I can calmly say what the hell that's my work I don't have to deliver the interpretation, as long as they print photographs of my work and don't do bullshit with the subtitles I should be happy, that's what I work with. In one article they mistakenly put Thomas Gotschalk's photograph (a German TV- producer) instead of mine, saying that I was available though E-mail. Computervictims...