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2015.04.07 Tuesday

the water-story (first handkerchief)

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    After flying from Berlin to Moscow, I went to Tokyo on the land- and waterway.

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    There was a lot of condensed water coming down from the ceiling in the third class transsiberian train to Mongolia. We were 54 persons sleeping in one waggon.

    The waterdrops somehow gathered at the window and then flew in beautiful little rivers on the table, where normally for example my book was lying.

    After two nights and one day I woke up again and a very old woman was sleeping next to me. She stayed almost until I also had to leave the train.

    We couldnt communicate with one single word for days, but from the very first moment, I admired her for something very proud and decent or humble.

    There were always new persons coming and going, during day and night.

    We watched them arriving and going, making their beds, changing their clothes. We were a 54-heads-transsiberian-society with moving territories and issues.


    She had this piece of cloth, with which she always wiped and mopped the condensed water.

    It was yellow with couloured circles in blue and red and green.

    She did almost nothing, she didn't even read a book. She was just looking out of the window, for days and days.

    And in between she dried the window and my books.

    She left the train one hour before I would go. I went with her outside of the train and her husband came and maybe her son.

    She hugged me very strong and gave me the condensed water tissue. 




    I do not even know her name. But (maybe), we saw the same landscape.

    And who knows what kind of connection THAT might be?









    flyer from 


    Takehito Koganezawa, setting the butterfly free, 2015, video, notebook

    Talion Gallery, April 4 - May 3, 2015




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