Kondensstreifen (Condensationtrail) and Übersturzfluchtzeug (Overfallflightstuff).

A sculpture and a sketch.

At first.

And then?

The sculpture flys away.

No, it get’s carried away.

Like us.

Like time…

Carried away into the garden.

The garden?

This garden, an artificial garden (pardēs) at the closed airport field, in Berlin-Tempelhof.

The sketch … stays where it is. Blinks in colour for a second. For you.

And?

Nothing. Nothing?

How do they belong together? What are they? Who made them, the long pointing sculpture and the blinking sketch? Why were they made? Are they already made?

Questions. Mysterious quests for…

Silly questions.

That ain’t silly. Are they obscene? Rigorous?

No.

No.

No.

How do you mean?
How do you mean ‚how do you mean‘?

Good God.

Evil God?

Dead God. (c.f. Nietzsche)

Dead Nietsche. (c.f. God)

~

And the Diagonal.

Did you see when Lajos Szabós sketch could be seen in the video for a second?

I did.

Did you?

Yes.

Maybe the best moment of it all?
A sparkling moment.

The first and the last moment at the same time.

Like Paul Bernewitz‘ Time.

Like Al Brecht, who has time at or for the moment.

Do you have time for … ?

What kind of time lays behind us?
What kind of time is waiting for us?

For whom?
What’s the time actually?

Yours,

Julia K.

Berlin, 2021