When sarcasm is done right, it’s a great way to express your anger and make people smile at the same time. I like this form of humour very much, because it is edgy. It makes the audience rethink things and very often it highlights the truth in a really clever way.
You direct sarcasm at something or someone. And I think it is most probably fair to say, that it is nearly always fueled by anger. Something you feel annoyed about, something you don’t like, turns into some stingy humour. Stephen Colbert is an expert in this.
I had the idea to create in addition to my book full of whacky stories, a sarcastic series by the same name ‘Inappropriate Colours’
In this post, I share with you the three, that are my favorite ones from the series.
But in case, you can’t get enough, here are some more you can check out:
The first episode of the series I made, is the muslim rapper and inspired by an interview with a German muslim rapper, talking about prejudice and tolerance. What was especially intriguing to me, was the way he expressed himself. Basically his language was very hateful, while he was talking about peace.
To me it was so absurd! I had to do something with it.
The idea was to have someone to introduce the rapper, saying I play you the video, but there isn’t one. It’s just me turning into the rapper, speaking things no one understands at times and being full of aggression.
The main point was to portray the contrast of talking about peace and being full of anger at the same time!
Here it is. I called it: German muslim is anti terrorism
The next video, I want to share with you, is possibly my all time favorite to be honest. It is even darker than the first one, because the contrast is bigger I think. The character introducing the lightwkorker is more defined than in the muslim rapper video. She thinks she is very intellectual, while in truth she doesn’t have a clue what the heck she is talking about. The lightworker on the other hand appears lovely and sweet, trying to cover up a very sinister and dark side of her. But she kind of fails.
It’s pure sarcasm.
I called it love, light and twinkles! And yes, I know people, who are like that; so sweet, that it hurts.
I so fell in love with the lightworker, that I had to bring her back. So my idea, behind the next video was to have Ingrid Messenger ask ‘White Owl’ a question and she would come back with an answer.
Ingrid Messenger wants to know, whether ‘White Owl’ is recruiting people to kill all the judgmental people, because she possibly can’t do it on her own.
I don’t want to give away what the answer is yet, I guess you’ll have to watch the video.
It’s interesting to see how both the introducing character Ingrid Messenger as well as the lightworker have changed compared to the video before. Maybe they both have become a little bit more sophisticated. White Owl seems to all of a sudden have a more knowing quality and appears less innocent.
I didn’t do this on purpose. It just somehow happened.
See for yourself. This one I named: If you have to kill, kill softly!
Originally, I wanted to continue with the duo of the lightworker and Ingrid Messenger. But I didn’t. I am not quite sure what happened. It can be I run out of ideas, or I didn’t prioritize the series enough.
Anyway, I am curious, which one of the three did you like the best? Leave me a comment.
When I started writing my stories, I made it a habit to illustrate my writings with a doodle.
Don’t ask my why. It simply happened. It’s fun to do and I like the feeling of being able to capture the story’s energy through a drawing. I don’t have the ambition to be good at it. This is not my objective. I just want to play around. It’s as simple as that.
I also like to doodle, when I just need my thoughts flow freely. Café’s are a good place for this kind of activity, I find.
Do you doodle? Like for example, when you’re on the phone with someone and you scribble something obscure on a piece of paper.
If you don’t doodle, I so highly recommend to give it a go. Without wanting to achieve something with it. Just do it for the simple purpose of enjoyment. It is very soothing, I can tell you. And in the end, you don’t have to show it to anyone. Just free your mind with it; full stop.
The six doodles you can see here in this blog post are all connected in the sense, that in 2015, I was working for a hundred days on developing characters. Of course most of them ended up being quirky. I just can’t help it.
The doodle above depicts Fiona and her husband, sitting in a café. She dreams about being Meryl Streep in the film ‘Out of Africa’, having an affair with Robert Redford. Who know’s what her husband is thinking about. Probably nothing. And if that’s not true, it doesn’t matter, since this is about Fiona.
I was inspired by a couple I observed, that seemed so utterly disconnected. You can read Fiona’s story here.
In my second drawing you can see Detlef and his BMW, he is making shady business transactions with. Detlef’s secret weapon is his charm. That’s how he is cheating his way through life. And in a very successful manner.
This character is based on some true events, which happened in 2012 in my own life. A shady, but very charming men sold me his BMW, which as a result created havoc in my life.
Henriette sits on the window silk and stares into the rain. She loses herself in it. Maybe for hours on end. She loves the rain and hates the sun, because it is pushy. The rain on the other hand is soothing. And this is what she needs right now, trying to get over a failed marriage with Henry.
She is still in love with Henry, but about to marry Carl.
The teacher is shouting silence into his class, while Alexander is playing the joker for everyone else. He doesn’t fit into the system, since his mind is different to other people’s minds. His parents want to send him to a boarding school but Alexander decides to run off to aunt Betty.
Julie, an actress, is sitting in the suitcase café in Paris. I had to think of a friend I knew in Hamburg, when I developed this character. They kind of have a similar fate in some ways. Both have a history with mental illness and finding themselves in a psychiatry for a while.
When we meet Julie, she is traveling the world and one of the suitcases tells her to visit Cassablanca next.
Do you follow the hidden connections or do you only care for the obvious, glaring you in the eye? I would like to know.
Do you see how the sun shines on a particular piece of cloth? Do you pay special attention, when someone, anyone, is saying something random to you, because there could be a hidden meaning, some secret connections to your own tapestry of life?
I believe us creatives are called to look for the invisible, the hidden connections. Basically anything, that isn’t obvious to the inattentive eye. We look deeper, beneath the surface of the so called appearances, we take things apart like Picasso for example did and then put them together in a newly arranged way. All just to make the hidden connections visible for everyone, who cares wanting to know.
Our short dance performance piece was developed for a competition run by Choreographic Captures. And it was very much about highlighting certain shapes and structures to show something you mightn’t notice otherwise. The fact for instance, that you only can see our legs, creates a completely different perspective. Immediately shapes and movements instead of individual performers come to the foreground. And how they relate to the space surrounding them.
Since all the three of us, Gemma, Leah and I, just had attended an intense 14 days workshop on the ‘Six Viewpoints’ taught by the renown SITI company based in New York, we were very keen on exploring specifics, like the space or shapes.
The dancer and choreographer Mary Overly originally developed this approach. Anne Bogart, director of SITI adopted it for the theatre.
It’s a very fascinating one, since it takes apart the central ingredients, needed for a performance of any kind, be it dance or theatre.
Just in case you’re curious, I give you a short overview. The following are the six viewpoints:
When you watch the film below, you immediately can see, that we mainly concentrated on space, shape, time and movement. Of course all of the viewpoints are interrelated and by focusing for example on space, you might at the same time accidentally create a story as a byproduct.
Maybe you spin your own story in your head, when you watch hidden connections. Let me know what you think. And now enjoy!
But for now, I want to talk about the actual feeling of walking with nothing on stage and improvise on the spot. How you have a thousand and one ideas, while you’re sitting in the audience.
‘Oh, yes I could be talking about my internet dating disasters, play them out. Or I do something with the sea, since it’s crushing against the walls of the Art’s Club right now. What about…’
When you learn a new approach, you need to practice and that’s exactly what I did with performing on stage devoid of any preconceived ideas. It wasn’t the improvisation technique as such, that was new to me.
Hell no! I have done it for years.
This practice has been at the core for creating every show I ever played. But what I’ve never done until I participated in Andrew Morrishe’s workshop on solo improvisation, is to go with literally nothing on stage; all on my own. No general subject to work on, nothing.
Since I developed a taste for solo improvisation, I played around with it as often as possible. I practiced by myself in the garden every morning, I performed in front of my housemate and invited guests once a week and later I moved on to the weekly open stage in the Art’s Club for over a year.
It was great to get some feedback. People especially enjoyed the unexpected element of my performances, never knowing what I’d do next. Being challenged out of their comfort zone as well. Although I never involved anyone, who didn’t want to be part of my show. Sometimes I’d talk to the audience, but whoever wanted to answer me, did. I hate forcing people to participate, I’d never drag someone on stage, because I wouldn’t like that done to myself. Thank you very much!
It wasn’t just my audiences, who didn’t know what I’d do next, I didn’t have a clue either. The discovery was unfolding within each moment of the performance.
Sometimes it would be silly, at other times surreal or purely weird. Funny and dramatic happened too.
The great thing about this art form is, that just about anything can happen! That’s the whole point of it.
I’d often discover things in the room, no one usually would pay attention to. Like for example, how the stage floor was redone in one part and not in the other. Have they run out of black colour or what! I remember I talked with my audience about, whether there were red traffic lights all over the world or whether maybe in some parts red meant green? And why they chose red for stop and green for go? Who came up with the idea in the first place? And why has the red to be on top and not the other way around? Are there traffic lights where the red is at the bottom?
I got you thinking now, haven’t I! In case you know an answer to any of these questions, please get back to me. It’s still bothering me. 🙂
My mind loves to go on these bizarre journeys and take everyone along the quest to discover something new.
There were times, when Adrian, a brilliant classical guitarist accompanied me. I danced and sometimes spoke over his music too. It was great fun!
Once in a while I came up with something hauntingly, brilliant. I could feel it, because it was as if I was gliding like an eagle through the skies.
Like that one performance I did on the Square during a Festival and I was talking about how the English still run around in shorts in winter and how annoying potholes are. The audience was having a blast, while I was surfing the waves.
To be honest, I think I’ve become pretty good at solo improvisation. Surprising others, as well as myself what I’ll come up with this time.
Improvising on the spot culminated in joining No Ordinary Theatre, making up stories in front of an audience on the very evening. The thing I loved the most about our company was the fact, that we worked with live musicians. Performing with a musician live on stage is a dream come true for any performer I would say. You can influence each other. Sometimes the music leads and at other times the sounds follow the performance. This way you’re bound to discover new things for sure. It’s brilliant!
I really, really want to work with live musicians on a stage again. Bring it on, please!
How often have you met someone and thought you had sussed them out, until they reveal something about themselves, that changes your whole perspective on them.
For example, when my landlady told me she had red Louise L. Hay, I was really surprised, because she just didn’t appear like someone who’d be into that kind of thing.
We have to admit, there are usually multiple layers to anything we encounter; situations, people, etc. It isn’t as clear cut, as we’d like it to be.
That’s why it is important to not forget: It isn’t as it always seems to be
Which brings me to the three stories, written in 2014, I want to share in this blog post. What unifies them, is the very fact, that in each one of them, things are not the way they seem to be.
You’ll meet a seal, who thinks that fish comes from heaven, a lion, who can’t roar like all the other one’s, but has a special gift instead, and finally there’s a mole, who’s convinced to be a mole, but isn’t in reality.
Are you surprised, that the main heroes are all animals?
A friend of mine once commented, that my stories are like tales. It’s true, there’s a lot of animal characters to be found in my stories. As a matter of fact, they even didn’t stay away from my previous solo shows. I had several animals playing a role in one way or another ; a lion, a snake, a horse, a bull, spiders and flies.
You know what I think it is? I like to play around with the symbolical nature of animal characters. They represent archetypes, everyone understands. People understand deep down what a lion stands for, as an example.
Let me start you off with Mirat and Tschibidad, a peculiar friendship. This is one of my favorite stories, I’ve written so far, because it is not only about friendship, but also about what it means to be different, while trying to find a place of belonging in the world.
Here’s an extract from the story. Read Mirat and Tschibidad, a peculiar friendship here.
‘There was a lion, which wasn’t your usual lion. I’ll shortly explain why. He grew up in a remote country, where all of the lions were known for their powerful and strong roar. I know, all lion’s roar sound powerful and strong, but in this place it was even more majestic, even more powerful. It sounded as if someone was playing a trumpet, not only one trumpet but more like a whole trumpet orchestra, playing a march.
This is why this kind of lions were also called the trumpet lions. As I’ve said before the lion I am talking about was different. He looked exactly the same like all the other ones, but he didn’t trumpet his roars. Worse he couldn’t roar at all, but only chirruped like a bird. While the other young lions started with their first roars, this lion started with his first chirrups. His mom got quite a shock, when she first heard him chirrup.
“My first child and than such a disaster.” she thought.
All the other lions gave her strange looks and shook contemptuously their heads, while trumpet roaring. The lion’s mother got very sad and she started to seriously contemplate abandoning the child in the wilderness. Most of the clan members said, she had to kill the child, if she wanted to stay with them. Her child would damage the unique reputation the trumpet lions could call their own and it well might sent off by the devil himself. For sure it wasn’t right that a lion, yes a trumpet lion, was chirruping.
Everybody felt certain about that and wouldn’t there have been a reputation to protect, they probably couldn’t have helped themselves but to rock with laughter about the ridiculousness of a lion chirruping instead of roaring. In addition it seemed a weird language nobody could understand. The young lion grew up apart from all the others and soon he fell silent, because he couldn’t cope with the reactions he was causing, when he opened his mouth. The lion eldest issued the mom with an ultimatum.’
Read the rest of the story here. It has a good ending, so don’t worry. 🙂
‘He is digging tunnels into the fertile, crumbling soil. Deeper and deeper and deeper.
Here nobody can hurt him. He is on his own, shielded from the evil, ever so attacking world outside. He decides to do nothing. He just simply doesn’t want to move anymore and he tells himself:
“I won’t move anymore, until a helping hand guides me back to the light.”
And he sits deep down in the earth, in his tunnel, very much like the remains of food, which got stuck in the intestines and refuses to move onwards, refuses to move backwards, refuses to move at all.
“As long as you don’t come down to me, I won’t move.”
Surrounded by yellow light an angel descends into the tunnels, deep down in the earth and he finds his way to the lonely mole. They look at each other and the mole takes the angel’s hand. Step by step they walk together bit by bit towards the light, out of the tunnels and back into the outside world.
The angel says:
“You don’t belong to the earth. You’re not a mole. You’re a bird.” ‘
Find out how the story continues and whether the mole accepts, that he is actually a bird… Read it here.
The last one is about a seal, who’s released back into the sea, but nearly starves, believing that fish comes from heaven.
‘There was a seal called Robin and Robin had been brought up in a seal sanctuary. His mom had been very badly hurt, when she was pregnant with him. So Robin had been born in the seal sanctuary and this was all he knew. His mom unfortunately didn’t survive long after she had given birth to him, but he found many friends and older seals, who looked after him, as if he was their own son. The most important thing was, that he wasn’t alone. This was his life and he thought it was a good life.
Every couple of hours fish dropped from heaven straight into his mouth. And at times it seemed like there were angels gathered all around him, appreciating to see him eat and clapping their hands with joy. His world consisted of a small water basin, he was sharing with his friends to swim small rounds in, but most importantly it consisted of sticking his head out of the water with a straight body and then circling on the spot so that he could see, where the fish would come from, which clouds would spit it out this time. Which direction it came flying from this time and how long it still would take until it happened again.
It always seemed such a spectacle!
One day everything changed. Everything! His whole world changed within a single day. Nothing was the same after that. Nothing! The world he knew vanished in front of his eyes. It vanished with a big bang!’
Find out, how fish come from heaven continues and whether Robin learns how to catch fish in the ocean. Read it here.
You can’t find these stories in a book yet, but I am intending to do one with all the fantastical story-tales in it. So watch out.
Do you know this intense feeling of frustration all pent up in your body, when the heart is bursting all at the same time? What do you do with it?
I dance. I somehow need to get it out of my system.
Dance is one of my passions, always has been. It’s one of those few areas in my life, where I don’t care what other people think of me. Even when I was a shy, awkward teenager, once I would hit the dance floor in the clubs, I didn’t care anymore and I danced as wildly as I wanted to. That’s something I never lost. Give me some music I love, and off I go.
Michael Jackson accompanied me pretty much through my frustrating teenage times. His music was especially liberating, when it came to letting all the pent up emotions on the dance floor.
My father once commented, when we were on holidays together:
‘Why do you have to dance so aggressively.’
He didn’t get it.
Because, my heart is on fire, when I dance. I am expressing who I am, right here in the moment with all the emotions I have. And I don’t care about the world around me. May it do what it wants to…
My film ‘Home is where you are’, is about expressing frustration and giving it a voice. Trying to find some beauty in the mess. I felt depressed, angry and frustrated all at the same time. Being faced with an illness, that basically was shaping my whole life and not finding a way out.
Create Anja, create! That’s the only thing you can do, no matter what!
The making of the film was a challenging in itself. The difficulty was to shoot a dynamic piece of film without having a camera man / woman. So, I had to put the camera into different spaces and fiddle very much around with all the positions, until I finally got the shots I wanted.
I know the camera didn’t focus properly somehow. But taking into account, that no one actually filmed me, the result is still great.
I want to do more dance and movement based films again and I would love to collaborate with a camera man / woman. It does make life so much easier and there is so many more possibilities.
On the other hand, when you’re limited, you become inventive. Every coin has two sides.
But I let you decide for yourself what you make of ‘Home is where you are’. The music is by the way from a local band, I went to see in Hamburg over 10 years ago.
Tomorrow I am going to talk about, that it isn’t always as it seems to be. So, stay tuned. I’ll share some great stories with heart.
If you want to do a sitting room show, you need a spacious sitting room to start with.
Me and my flatmate at the time lived in an old victorian flat and the space was perfect. It fitted 10 people, yes I know very intimate, but that’s what a sitting room show is about in the end and I still had enough space to move around.
That’s not so important, if you don’t want to move a lot, but since I had some dances incorporated, it was essential for me.
The other thing is, when you have so few people and it is so intimate, you do want to do something special. I provided a cake and I had a little present for everyone to take home.
I believe your sitting room is a perfect place to start with. Especially ,if you are a solo performer, being in the beginning stages of your show, having to keep the costs low.
I did it exactly for those reasons. I originally wanted to develop the show throughout the space of a year, performing in my sitting room once each month to gather feedback. The show incorporated completely improvised elements, interaction with the audience, as well as more defined scenes.
I knew I wanted to have two dance pieces in there, providing a rough structure. The big surprise was Jennifer, who wanted to kill her husband she didn’t have yet, in order to safe her candy eating, obese daughter.
I tell you, she took the audience by storm!
Here she is!
Slipping one of my monologues into the show, was also a lot of fun too. Since it’s only short, I thought I’d share it with you:
‘They all looked at him and he didn’t talk. He was the tallest one of them, the biggest one, the most important one.
When you have to carry so much importance on your shoulders, it isn’t crucial to talk, because you are oozing the importance out of all of your pores. You are seen and there is no doubt, you are the one!
The one to carry the message, to follow through the bizarre darkness of the night, called life on earth.
Since he didn’t move, they didn’t. Since he didn’t talk, they were silent.
The path was visible, so close. It would have been easy, but it wasn’t.
It never is. When you follow the leader your own path becomes faint, like the mist.
They were peculiarly different from one another, in seize, shape and color. They had forgotten. Their individuality, being confiscated.
Who was he? Really, who was he?
If you’d have been able to look inside, you wouldn’t have found anything but hot, sticky air, bloating him with seizable importance. For this very reason, he had to live on other people’s individuality.
He would eat five a day, since as we all know, that keeps the doctor away. There was never a shortage of devotees. They figured it was easier to be led by someone important, who knew it all, instead of having to find their own paths. Even though the very same were paradoxically right in front of them. Their eyes were turned towards him, focusing only on him, being blind to what else was going on.
They pondered their reasonable choice. He didn’t think, he had better things to do, digesting their individualities, one by one. He never would be satisfied.’
The evening was a success and everyone had a really special experience.
Unfortunately I never got to develop my show further. Shortly after my performance, we were forced to move out, because the landlady decided to sell. The rest of the year I found myself, moving from one in between place to the next. Not the greatest premise for working on a new show…
It is a pity though, since I liked the concept very much. That one and only sitting room show was great fun, I called it: The dancing dervish
We’ll start with me and my mom and the adventures we both had together in Portugal. I am jumping right into the middle of the story.
‘Back to Amilka. He is incredibly good looking. He has dark hair, a well toned body and he seems so cool, when he is preparing the drinks in masterly fashion. I have totally fallen for him. He is an absolute feast for the eyes and I could go into raptures about him. Simply his name, Amilka, is music to my ears. I could watch him furtively for hours on end. For hours on end.
My mom really forces me to order my coke directly with Amilka. She won’t do it, she says. But for me this is an impossibility to be even asked, since I am an extremely shy teenager. The formerly open, spontaneous and wonderfully dreamy child has grown into a deeply, internally scared teenager, stricken with profound shyness. To this day I couldn’t retrieve the former child completely, but surely the teenager. No problem on that front …
My mom refuses to go and get the coke for me and if I don’t go and get it, I’ll have to die from dehydration and coke deprivation.
On the other hand, the idea to order my coke directly with Amilka sounds suicidal. On top of that I don’t want to make a fool out of myself and there are so many things that could go potentially wrong.
I think you can’t possibly imagine how much overcoming it took me to walk up to the bar and to order that damn coke. And if I wouldn’t have been so crazy about coke, I wouldn’t have done it.
„One coke please.“ These simple, three english words are swirling around in my head like a hung up record. At least for about half an hour, before I can bring myself to go to the bar, risking to die the fool’s death.
There are always plenty of gorgeous women, magazine typed ones, sitting by the bar and flirting excessively with Amilka. I personally don’t think I have any chances with him whatsoever – zero – nada. He is a passion from the distance. Nothing more.
„One coke please“ I make a quick exit back to our table. I am greeted with a big grin on my mom’s face: “See, you survived!” In the meantime I am wiping the cold sweat from my forehead.
One time, I even dare to go and ask Amilka, being prompted again by my loving mom, whether he could play the Dire Straits, Brothers in Arms. We often listen to the album, while driving, with winded down windows, the music on full blast, racing through the breathtaking, astounding nature, taking the soul’s breath away, through serpentine roads, up and down steep hills. Our hearts are beating in sink with the music. Pure joie de vivre, no restrictions!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!’
‘My grandparents, that was my dad’s parents, also had a wonderful garden. And they had a very old, beautiful apple tree in it.
My grandma used to always send me food parcels to all the places, where I used to live, after I had moved out from my mom’s place.
And she made the best stollen!
There must be a certain “best ever bake gene” in both my grandma and dad!
Around this time of the year, she’d send me one of her famous stollen.
She used to send all sorts of things.
I remember opening one of her parcels, expecting her great stollen, only to find the following ingredients instead:
5 apples, 10 lump sugars, cranberry jelly and a corer.
‘I was perplexed! What the heck was that all about! Where was my stollen? On the bottom I found a handwritten note with exact instructions for how to make baked apples. The apples were of course not just any apples, but from my grandparent’s apple tree.
At that time I was studying in Hildesheim and sharing a flat with four other people, which explains why there were 5 apples.
You can’t imagine how much my flatmates loved my grandma from that moment on. It was such a heart warming thing to do and it created so much joy in our hearts. It made us bake and eat the apples together. It made us connect with one another.
Thinking of it, I and my flatmates were smitten with the simplicity of it. Who on earth would have send you 5 apples, 10 pieces of lump sugar, cranberry jelly and a corer, where you just could go to the next supermarket around the corner and buy them yourself, if you wanted to.
My grandma would!’
There is a sorrow, which is being drained down the pipes. It is so much, that the pipes can’t hold it anymore and it leaks straight into the basement. Hidden in the basement, the massive pool of sorrow is to be found.
The sorrow herself wants to be held, cradled and nurtured like a precious baby.
And then, only then she can turn into what the sorrow’s meant to be. A bluebird! The bluebird soars into the skies, feels the lightness and freedom. And he flies to the rainbow dragon, who looks like a dragon fly.
The landscape looked bleak, black and burned. Rotten tree trunks everywhere and the soil was pitch black. Nothing else to see. I started to walk through this barren land.
Bleak, black and burned.
After a very long time, I came to a place that looked somehow different.
I saw something green. Something tiny working its way through the pitch black soil. It grew so fast. In front of my eyes a beautiful, wonderfully fragrant magenta rose formed. I sat down and watched, since there was nothing else to do. Three days passed. Then the rose started to talk:
“I need water. If I don’t get water I will die. Help me.”
My heart started to ache, because I knew there was no water.
“Dear sun, please tell me. How do I find the the rainbow waterfall? And how do I get the rainbow dragon to give me some water?”
“The rainbow dragon, who looks like a dragon fly, doesn’t give water at any rate. The waters, where all the rainbows come from are holy waters. He gives it to those, who reveal their heart, who gift him with their whole being. My dear, I am tired now and I need to rest. Farewell and good luck.”
The sun left me and I walked over to the other edge and prayed to the rainbow dragon, who looked like a dragon fly.’
“Pick me up, please! Play me, I want to be played.”
I never played the flute before, but I obeyed nevertheless. If a flute talks to you, you better do what it tells you, so were my thoughts.
The moment my mouth touched the flute, it seemed to play itself and I could hear the most wonderful magic music I had ever heard.
Not only that, but each single tone, which escaped the flute was actually a fairy.
The room was filling up with tone fairies. They had all different colors and they were dancing and humming in the air.
‘The building was one of the many soulless, nobody buildings and the students were forced to leave their heart, their soul and their inspiration in the entrance area, before they ventured deeper into the building.
What an irony to wanting to teach creativity in such a place of all. Creativity in a nobody’s building! It’s a cruelty and carries a lot of ambiguous messages.
“You are a nobody in a nobody’s building. We expect great art from you!”’ (excerpt from Locked in a locker)
‘It is not easy, being a professional adult, but nevertheless of utter importance for society! Professional adults are serious, always on the safe side and never ever allow themselves to play! That’s childish and highly unprofessional, which of course could cost you the title: “Professional adult”. I think the title should be actually certified and people should have to pass tests. If they fail, they have to go back to school …’ (excerpt from The Professional Adult)
Living in a functional world, where we are made to feel like nobodies and the increasing disability to be playful like a child go hand in hand.
That’s why I shared both of these pieces, because they compliment each other well.
The environment, in which we live, matters. Cold buildings produce cold hearts. I so wish, that more architects would invest in creating buildings, that create a warm, playful atmosphere. I also would love to see more kids, that are still kids. Instead of being little adults with a busy schedule. Running from one activity to the next. I had to witness that, when I taught drama at a school in Hamburg.
I know modern technology is great, but if we aren’t careful, we might just lose all of our humanness and turn into well oiled, machines devoid of a soul-heart connection.