‘For years I was longing for something real, and all came together for this weathered window in life. What is nature stripped down, when tourist windsurfing is over, how is the winter? I tested some borders out of my comfort zone to see if these doors were sunwindows between the clouds or rooms better kept close. Children & drunken get away with stupid ideas, and I considered, that this was just a boy’s dream, this tree house thing at least. My blessed time in the ‘beach academy’ was no big thing compared to tintin’s moon exploration, but big enough for my narrow mindset.’

‘...Days on a solitude edge with in & outside gales and a flooded tent. Time for a confession. Out of my iglu tent I saw a pile of four cats & a red windsurf board, what a mighty military parade to enter the fields of winter. It was time to build a fort with a roof and an oven…‘

‘...Fullmoon writing at the stove. Unfortunately I was knocked out by a lamp.The last thing I remember is, that I had shaken my pillow before going to bed. The torch lamp is fixed with an elastic rope to the roof. You can move it, then it‘s moving back faster. There was a swollen eye cut and a few red spots on the pillow. I did what the wrecked warriors do, the bearded one with the battle axe. Meditating with headache. Breathe in, breathe out, & jump out of the fortress to fight against goats, that started to eat my roof...’