
looked like a seagull that stood out horizon. Enormous wings embraced the whole view of the spectator.
As a painter, now traced the outlines of the figure in front of him. Gaunt face, lips swollen, yellowish skin. My eyes follow her fingers ch moved around his figure reflected in the mirror.
What he liked his condition?
The fact that all the reports he had created were fantastic. The fact that they were part of a painting as compared to real life. The fact that we feel so superior, so perfect, while talking to someone. The fact that we embraced in that idyllic condition, with projections that he gave of himself, and yet despised. The fact of being so far away from himself, from the world around him, without even having stepped out of his room. The fact that we feel every part of his body slamming frantically, as if they break away from him and was projected light years away.
As if everything were synchronized to their needs. And yet ... was a wild beast collapsed to the ground.
It all seems so fake. Now, as moved by a primordial need to survive, waiting for his executioner steps to allay his instincts, he stops davati the mirror
realizes that his enormous wings seagull became thin arms and the viewer it is setting his own body is asking for mercy.
Contribution of view: "Zuert die Fuß" Martin Kippenberg, 1990
Contribution of view: "Zuert die Fuß" Martin Kippenberg, 1990