The day before the Third day of May, he was born
In no particular order, this is a sequence of »Pictures« that portrays research, which has been performed on territories that stretched from Lapland far North to the source of the river Nile, Uganda South, and from Beomeo-sa, the magnificent temple, Busan, Korea, far East to the Notre-Dame Basilica Montreal Canada, far West – despite knowing there isn’t a room, even in Rome
I see the mirror
I get up
One more time
I see the mirror
I get up
he is absent;
his early awareness at the age of 9 of the suppressive nature of the ruling system contributed substantially to the evolvement of his stance toward the institutionalisation of thought and performance. This awareness was the cornerstone for constituting a virtual room to preserve what he was born for. Whenever this virtual room gets eliminated by water cannons or contaminated by tear gas and sound bombs, he lays out a new.
The resident in question was born to dance on the edge of whirlpools. It is the fate of those who doubt the given narrative and challenges its inevitability. he admits that his thoughts are the only things he has that are made of tin. Thus, the Border Patrol checkpoint alarm goes off even before his foot hits the edge of a new territory. Resistance is the only foothold he endeavours to accommodate, as Earth is the state of complicity. In another confessional statement, he, the claimed Neitherlander, confesses that conformity is far more frightening than alienation. Alienation is the epic voyage of the damned. he is ‘here’ is not a voluntary present, as ‘there’ is the exile of the oppositional stance. he is here as long as exile resists authorised status.
This is a story of words and images rather than guns. Having an impact on the direction of contemporary statement. Perhaps it doesn’t win any votes, but with fresh blood, try and scratch off the varnish. Everything needed is to be clear, new and transparent. Things are barely happening. It is a story of a boy who drew a tree upside down at the age of 3, but years later he was confronted with the fact that the world is unwilling to accommodate an imagination of a boy. However, he was born with a river in his pocket and in another a bullet, which will trigger toward his head before his resistance gets faded… his performance on the firing line continues
I am he, who I was or
(Unveränderte Biographie des Künstlers)