Tag Archives: Dance

sometimes i feel
my life and i
we have a deal
we share the deepest
secrets and fantasies
we are a team
and when i’m with people
I can’t think nor be
until I’m back home
with my life, myself and me


lie it and love it.
this day will be over.
anything can happen,
if you are out there.
are what life’s about.
superheros suffer too.
my veins are rollercoasters.
a certain anger
makes you stronger.
they turn the lights on
to pretend it’s not dark.
don’t wait.
//i think i’m in love
with absolutely nothing
(and was heart broken last week).// 

(PS: This video is a fun memory. It’s just a collection of impressions for a bigger film project. My short part as a background dancer starts at min 01:06.)

Thinking (-> Dangerous) + Styling + Running Back And Forth + Writing + Being Weird + Working Out And Up + Sewing Stuff + Dancing + Freakin Out – (-> MINUS!) Sleeping = High²

( Thanks to Lizzie. The pictures don’t have anything to do with fashion. There’s a story behind them, I wouldn’t shoot a Chanel bag – or the whole motif – for no reason.)

(Sorry for the fucked quality.)

Ich nehm Dich mit auf meinem Sturm
durch den dichten Sternentunnel
der sich so sicher anfühlt
weil Farbe die Lichtlöcher füllt
wo wir uns drehen
bis uns schwindelig ist
von außen bleibt draußen nach innen
spinnen wir unser Netz
lassen uns fallen und fangen
wickeln uns ein und wälzen uns im Weichen
seufzend vor Wonne
ohne gestern und morgen
sondern mit seichten Worten wie
‘alles ist gut,
solange wir nur
zusammen sind’
für den Moment
bleibt alles draußen und drin
wo wir alleine sind
öffnet sich das weiße Tor.
Und ich setz dich ab
und schlüpfe wieder davon.
Vielen Dank für den Flug.
Mach’s gut.

(Fotos taken while preparing for a dance gig. Next show will be on Friday here.)

I tried the Salsa thing in Bairro Alto. My camera didn’t work so I had to use my pen. I had about 10 seconds to scribble the guys, as I just couldn’t say: “Don’t move!” Or hit the ‘time stop button’. Unfortunately.

PS: That’s my last post about this country, dammit. Onetime you gotta say goodbye.

Right now I am having quite a hectic discussion about dancers and their being as “sex-decoration”. That´s how the “other person” calls them disrespectfully. And lumps them together with people who sell their bodies for money and uses words like “cheap” and “tasteless”, “bad example” for the next generation. OF COURSE I had to face this witch-hunt a thousand times at universe, from audience, even friends. May they think what they want, but I´d never expected this from an artist. A young promising person who comes from the literature scene with a feeling for a fascinating performance. And who should know that first comes research, then opinion. I am so dissapointed, they are actually insulting the women´s body and it´s way of expression.

The problem is not the girls. The “bad expample” is a matter of projection. Some consider the dancers as heros, others as whores. But do they honestly think, this is reality? No way, the reason for this “horrible image of a woman” lies in it´s viewer. In people like them!

I consider the dancers as what they are: As (in this case) self conscious people who are proud of their body and who don´t want to hide it. Who stand for their sexuality and are not ashamed to play with it. If you ask me, this is the only good example for women/men no matter what generation. Anything else is repression and discrimination. I will never let myself repress either. And just for the note: One of the dancers  is a doctor, another one a teacher, a third one is an artist at Städelschule. But how do the others know, when they refuse researching and listening?

This judgemental thinking is so not consequent, because all young artists need freedom and respect for their work, if they have the balls to be edgy. But only literature deserves respect, or what? God, this makes me … disillusioned. I never felt free but I believed in young art/literature made by intellectual open minded people to help me fight for freedom for body and mind. Well … that was that.

I´m gonna have to write about this, when I geht back from Portugal. Because this is where I am right now: Lisboa! Damn, I couldn´t be any happier.

This post is dedicated to my ‘deco-people’, who you just have to love, because they are wonderful AND with a soul so deep, you might get lost in it. Can you believe that?
Now I´m going out celebrating my (half) freedom.

We love love love the other half of the 24 hrs.
When sun goes down it withtakes the outerworld.
The worldly templates
crawl under the blankets with the people´s voices.
Now that reality is sleeping,
what´s it all about?
We can´t see the street signs anyway.
We don´t want to go straight anymore.
We can go left, no right. No left AND right,
draw curvy lines and stirring loops.
until we reach the woods.
Here in the blurry black
we discard our coats and slip in our current bodies.
We choose
the pixie, the bear, the lion, the circus pony.
to dance and fly and whirl with the wind,
And we loose
the past, the future and our – so called – selves
to flow just with what happens next.
We are the purest we
that could ever be.

Sometime the sun peeps over the horizone,
and the first voice resounds
like a wake-up-call for ordinariness.
As soon as the next 24 hrs begin
it´s all gone.
Wiped away by the everyday eraser.
And we forget about our – so felt – selves again.

The only thing that makes us wonder
is a leaf that sticks to the sole of our shoe.

So which two halves of the 24 hrs is reality?

A truckload of costumes (2 x ten plus more junk), the coolest colleague on earth, VIP passes that take you anywhere including backstage at the Centerstage, and a booking for the aftershow party at Rock am Ring.

Also helpful: A cowboy hat for the roadtrip, major chaos for having major fun, a tiny hotel in the middle of nowhere with unfriendly people who look at us, as if we were aliens, and with cows, horses, cats, monster rabbits and geese we look at, as if they were aliens, a nice and calm chaperone who sorts everything out, huge bodyguards, laid back people from suzuki, nice big and flat stages for really rocking the moves, flat dance sneakers for really rocking the stage, stagefright and stomach flip, Jägermeister, a drunk audience with cool people, bands, Rammstein (fuck, we met Rammstein!), Slash (in MY audience?), MTV-people and everybody else, old friends to bump into, hot jacuzzis inviting 17 year old rich gals to have sex, other people accidently running around naked, a mind blowing DJ-Set from Chris aka Julian Smith, and in between the two nights a marvellous day at RAR on the VIP tribune with a great view.

AND a camera to take better pictures than this crap here!

Thanks to emotions event for one of the most amazing events ever.

I am quite late with the posts. The next one will be delayed as well. One reason is that there are so many duties! For example: Right now I´m sitting in the train with a bunch of idiots (friends) on our way to a party in cologne. The guys started drinking already, the girls put make up on, I try to work …

Good night …

If my sis Lena would have to describe her currend feeling, she´d say she´s being rocked by a rhythm, bubbles coming and summing up; building a volcano up to an explotion; letting brains`n´belly spinning funnily; producing some energy that makes her running up an airy stairway to a place that consists of a 100% belief which is home, safety and freedom to us all. Isn´t she fucking silly?