Swedish artist - meeting probably in the evening. Bernardo and Burkhard are on the road, one hundred - no, ninety-seven kilometres away from Szczecin. Getting closer and closer. The first appointment in two hours. Camera changed; after the break down of the first one, which could not be repaired no more, another one is on. Take 2!

Consciousness.

Borders.

I am here, they are over there. We talked on the phone - weŽll get together. Again.
We are journey-mates. A good ones.

IŽve got the impression, the first time must not have come into view.

"Georgia on my mind..." a jazzy singer is whispering into the crowd; the music is not too loud, surrounding correctly dressed people. Officials, maybe a hundred of them. Filling a restaurant at the castle. We are sitting here; eating smoked salmon on vegetables, wondering over Danish flaggs on the table, enjoing the Swedish vodka. Cut.

There is no Georgia on my mind. It is, anyhow, too many frontiers away.
Not only because we are in a club. Techno music, fat guard, hungry looks at half naked girls. Naked City, as John Zorn wanted it to be, in order to explain the negative side of human nature - by music. "Always look at the bright side of life". No explanation. "Art is an accepted vandalism. We are the vandals". Cut.

"Evil has no bounderies"
Bored music and drunken artist. "I have got everything in painting I could. Now I havenŽt painted for two years any more." "Now IŽm going to masturbate". And "freedom is just another word for >nothing more to lose<". Future plans, in order not to scare away too early.

Borders? Frontiers? Bounderies? Different ways to name the phenomena of thinking. Creating a space to live.

Bat