2026

Stacking ice for about two hours until it turned into an ice wall right in front of an ancient stone wall. Contemplating the concept of borders while doing this: Does a border derive its authority from permanence or rather from monitored presence? What does it mean to cross something that will, in time, most likely erase again? Which led to a re-reading of Stefan Zweig's 'The World of Yesterday': 'The borders that today, thanks to the pathological distrust felt by everyone for everyone else, are a tangled fence of red tape were then nothing but symbolic lines on the map, and you crossed them as unthinkingly as you can cross the meridian in Greenwich'.