jan klopfleisch  
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excursions – walking, in the rhythm of the body, aimless, to the edges, where the city is fibrous.
Dumps, garden settlements, fallow land, industry – forgotten places.
A blue box, cracked and bleached, the battered pickup with orange stripes, a fence of bed frames, the fortress of containers – EVERGREEN, GOLD, MAERSK – messages all over the world – orange, light-blue, green and rust-red. Things, they force the look.

I’ve got an idea, I’ve got sheets, I’ve got colours. I divide the sheets in halves, everyone gets a colour. I do that a time. They lie on the floor, lean against the wall.
It follows accidental correspondences – they produce a notion.
Material and idea come in use. Memories start of a colours shining, of
a surfaces touching, of distances and spaces.
I move the things, put them in order and disperse – until they are something of one’s own, surprise –
are opposite.