River bends, where that what is visible from the elements disappear into the unkown, and the twilight-like, silent water meadows, have always made an intriguing impression on me, since childhood. It gives me an impression/idea of the sublime, but in a subliminal, non-sublime way. Apart from that I like paradoxes respectively mismatches, it is a scenario that only talks to the one who listens, and actually tells us nothing, you have to find language yourself. When I was a child I had a fever; I caught a fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of my mind, etc/now I´m comfortably numb. Silence is the language of God. The exurbia regions on human thought. Further down the White Lodge.