While still digesting Wound and going on a run as every second day I had an idea:
Since a while I´m stuck with the language in my book. I feel with my protagonists, I (kind of) know the story, but the language is flat and boring. Until now I had no idea how to free myself and find new words. But then I figured, the intention of my escape to Berlin must not only be new people, new streets or art. If I want to find my own new path, I have to step off the old one. I have to confront myself and my body with the experiment of improvisation. Break with the routine and follow the instinct. Genius! But what the hell does that mean?

It means I have to be more radical. More lonelyness and more autonomy. Listen to the impulses and what my fantasy might sigh. Try to use the map even less (and get even more lost, phew). More silence. Or, if music is needed, I have to find a new minimal soundtrack only for this “trip”. Today, after a while of running through the park I took off my headphones. I haven´t done this for ages and I was astonished how much I had forgotten the sound of my breath. It´s pretty loud actually, hope I won´t fall over one day. I have to reduce  TV and news – as far as possible. No parties. Okay, no, I don´t have to be that consequent. But, most important, I need to find a new language which lies beyond words. To me, the most effective kind of communication works through my body. I need bodywork like breathing. So I can easily express myself through dancing and different movements. I´ve looked up some dance workshops already. And after running I started dancing instead of doing my usual exercises. It´s much harder to keep moving all the time than I expected. Perhaps I can even try to integrate the dancing impro into my everyday life. Of course people mustn´t be around, since it will look extremely stupid. Hopefully this kind of work with the flow and against my routine will evoke a BANG in my head. It can´t be that hard, can it?

So there must be another way of communication which works without words? Singing? Scribbles perhaps? Considering the definition of “flow”, I might just have to take a pen, hold it over a paper and wait what happens. This reminds me of a game I played as a child. Inventive through boredom and lonelyness I tried to be a medium and make some new friends: ghosts. Perhaps this was an early subconscious yearning for instinct driven improvisation. So I sat there, with a pen in my hand, waiting for the energy to take hold of my body and paint world conquering messages. Nothing happend. Of course not!

But wait, there it is! A mysterious force moves my hand, guides the pen towards the paper and scratches the white surface from top to bottom. Then a loop. A movement from the right to the left. Pressure getting easier, another loop. Zigzag, faster, zigzag. After a few seconds the deed is done. An unpleasant something, which annoys the eye instead of delighting it.

And this is supposed to be it? These are my true inner thoughts? I guess I was just shivering in the cold next to the window.

Even if I´m on my way to crazy, I just gotta keep on going. The download of the new soundtrack is starting: now.