Thursday, 30
wet season - doesn't make it easy for me; my body a sponge, my head an empty balloon. but i'll get used to it, give me some time for acclimatizing.

Wednesday, 29
arrived last night in Banjul. a small acceident, fortunately it happened while we were driving slow. don't want to imagine what could have happened...

Thursday, 23
my world - your world. he asked me: is it like this in your world? then she said to me: in your world you can say whatever you want and another one also talked about living in their own world. what is this talking about living in somebody's world? a new trend in communication, suddenly realising that people have their worlds what before was estimated as a psychosis and now is accepted as part of every soul? humanity is always a bit late in seeing reason, always keen on bringing fast decisions. this here is obviously my world displayed in order it won't be only my world any more, but accessing other worlds - not followers. i don't think in terms of following when you are regarding somebody else's world. i prefer sharing, contemplating, perceiving, understanding and at the same time i consider that people who don't like my world, or worse, who want to fight or despise me may use it against me by judging it as socially not acceptable, something not worth intertwining. however, it is everybody's liberty of free speech. not a problem, actually. i am ready to discuss different kind of worlds, of course. but humanity, i mean feeling the other what may be contrary to what the world is revealed like, is my first concern while resetting my world in favour of the other's world.

Saturday, 18
i think I had a burnout... wie angworfen (means when a disease comes suddenly without any indication)
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Yeah, I am still in Basel whereas I should be in Gambia. I thought staying for artbasel was an obligation for every artist, almost. But I tell you since the first time I visited the show in 1984 (been given a pass by the Basler artist and that time art school teacher Werner Mutzenbecher) I've never made any contacts what should be the main reason for an artist's visit of the ART. Instead I just contemplated the artworks and felt inspired... the importance of art visualised and somehow backed up by the huge number of interested people swashed on my work for being energetically impacted. By the way, recently a Basler photographer and lecturer of Schule für Gestaltung has enlightened me about the highest density of artists in Switzerland in relation to the whole world - what kinda relieved me concerning my Dasein as the average artist of little avail. How could I succeed within such a high number of competitors in the neighbourhood. And, as I've been mentioning often, competition isn't my strength at all, on the contrary I prefer to stay outside. The fighting spirit inside the ivory tower sickens me automatically. Although, renowned artists whose works I appreciate get my jubilant recognition (at the same time omitting my feelings of jealousy). Further, my longtime desire to show him Hamburg being satisfied after more than a decade came out to be a flop what by now I more or less have psychologically processed. In other words, I love my contemporary life not being bound to any compulsory schedule what in my eyes comes close to freedom. A way of thinking; controll your spirits that they don't pull you down into depression triggered by unplanned and unvoluntarily emerging incidents.

Friday, 17
We had planned to travel to Hamburg to celebrate my 58th birthday at the place where I was born 1958. But as a matter of fact - the fact was i've been too tired this morning and couldn't imagine covering the 800 km as a driver safely - we didn't go. In the morning, still in bed, we considered very carefully what we should do and if it was reasonable to drive when I was not in good condition. We finally came to the conclusion not to take the risk of a trip conducted by a worn out driver. I had been very happy, when we did the planning finding a wonderful flat in the heart of St. Pauli. Yesterday night I picked up the car, a Golf that I had booked per Internet, at the airport's car rental. At the end of the day the Golf was a brand new black Citroën. They told me my order in the internet hadn't meant a certain type, but a class what I had overlooked in the contract (Golf oder ähnliches) It smelled of fabrics. I was a bit disappointed, because I don't like those new cars where every scratch is a drama. Additionally I didn't feel comfortable with the automatic gear system; sometimes it blocked and no back and forth was possible. Though I took it home. Firstly they had offered me a Toyota, which I couldn't even start, because of its sophisticated electronics. And which windows were small, the seats very low what made me feel I could not control what was happening outside the car to make safe driving possible. That time I was scared already and started to doubt our plan. But I didn't give up and asked for another one which came out to be the Citroën which now is back at its parking, tidy and unblemished. Of course I am sad and a bit desperate. Actually, it had been a beautiful car with its smoked windows and I regret my fears of accidents, difficult traffic at the heights of the Kasseler Berge as well as aquaplaning. It might have been the continuous rain and grayness that took my confidence away. However, it is like is and I am still in Basel, but for sure I steer clear of the art.

Wednesday, 8
tv Arte HD: Roman Polanski
a very nice two-character movie where reality and fiction mingle, La Vénus à la fourrure (2013), within the film and in relation to real life as well as Polanski's wife Emmanuelle Seigner plays the female part (while changing gender is a topic). Very intelligent!!
The Ninth Gate (1999) starring Jonny Depp. I liked the importance of books and was reminded of my time in the early eighties reading Aleister Crawley.

Sunday, 5
I pulled my plaits to my front and touched the edan in my pocket. I let my mind focus on it, its strange language, its strange metal, its strange feel. I'd found the edan eight years ago while exploring the sands of the hinter deserts one late afternoon. "Edan" was a general name for a device too old for anyone to know its functions, so old that they now were just art.
My edan was more interesting than any book, than any new astrolabes design I made in my father's shop that these women would probably kill each other to buy. And it was mine, in my pocket, and these nosy women behind me could not know. Those women talked about me, the men probably did too. But none of them knew what I had, where i was going, who I was. Let them gossip and judge. Thankfully, they knew not to touch my hair again. I don't like wars either.
From Binti, Nnedi Okorafor, 2015