Sunday, 21
Today is the birthday of my grandma born in 1899 - RIP. Without her I wouldn't be here. The last time I met her was in Basel 1984. I remember her leaving the allotment of my then parents in law. She was sitting in the back of a car chauffeured by my aunt and my grandpa on the front passenger seat. The way she looked out of the limousine's window told me it was the last time I saw her face - round an pale like already absent. She died on the 10th of January 1985. This date of her death I can recall very well, because it was the same day I had an abortion. I even saw her death as a reaction, because now any reason to fight the leukaemia she was suffering from had abandoned, which was of course my personal interpretation by connecting occurrences and not at all her real will. We had decided for an abortion, because our that time living conditions were too difficult to raise a child properly. We had just started working together in the arts and music with no sufficient income in sight. Later I regretted and when we thought it was the right time to have a child, I respectively we - we both were desperate about it - had a miscarriage. Though, in my opinion, it should happen due to weary circumstances again. We had achieved the residency at Cité des Arts Internationle in Paris for one year and to give birth there would have been too much at the same time.



my grandma's credenza now in Gambia