Monday, 30
I need it. As my old one is a bit heavy and for traveling I wanted a lighter one. So I ordered an air book, small harddisk 125 Giga, but 8 RAM - it was the cheapest i could get. Anyway, the place where i picked it up is not far from the main station. They sell all this electronic and digital stuff. A very sophisticatedly designed showroom behind betonwalls (no network to call a friend). The sellers are hovering behind a gigantic sales counter, which extends to my throat. As a customer you automatically feel small and like a nobody. I know another computer shop bearing the same phenomenon. Looks like the DJ generation is in charge. At this moment, my new notebook is waiting for me get unpacked. Hey, I just pray I can do the installation good as I am like late Hippy generation...

Friday, 27
A Klee drawing named “Angelus Novus” shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe that keeps piling ruin upon ruin and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.
Walter Benjamin, Ninth Thesis on the Philosophy of History
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how nice and still a dream - if I could work freely, no inner censorship.

Thursday, 26
Women and their Men
Some women they really like it to be followed by their men. Them, they want to be the strong ones absolutely adored by their men. At the same they want their men to rescue them always. They show quite plainly how difficult it is to be a women and that they are in danger every time. Those women want a hero next to them.
Another kind of women are those who are sent by their family to find a strong man that give support to their family. When those women come home without a man their family will frown at them seriously and proscribe them. Them are the poorest, I tell you, they have to follow their men and do everything to keep him, because they fear being punished and excluded by their very family. They probably will be beaten by their men additionally.
Then there are the independent ones. They just enjoy being with a man no canon needed, no definition of how the relationship is framed. To me that is an ideal form, but very seldom to find. Especially in case of a pregnancy this kind of woman has to be so very very strong to keep up her independency.

Wednesday, 25
My Buddhist Life
Every now and again they said to me I shouldn't take myself so important (you are a nobody). At times when I felt good and strong people commented me being unjustifiebly elevated. As a result I felt small and guilty of having misbehaved. Apart from learning for myself, reading and working in a way that wouldn't challenge anyone I denied every attempt of being proud of who I was and accepted and lost confidence of a possible improvement. In other words I gave up in favour of a peaceful state of being. In moments I fulfilled the expectations of others (what finally had mutated into my own standards) I was able to receive an inner peace.

Tuesday, 24
Had an appraisal interview on Monday and was criticised for beeing too rude, communicating too tersely. i was not aware of behaving in a way people didn't appreciate. The fact that I quarrel with my fate is an open secret that everybody knows and that i've revealed here open to public. Probably that feeling of being exploited or even humilated (what may appear exaggerated - when writing sometimes you say things in kinda drastic way to give ability of empathy - my diary, my feelings, emotions, state of being) sometimes emerges, but for sure unwanted. I am an open, self-conscious woman and talk to people on a par. However, I cannot blame them for having misspent my life (at times i definitely feel this one). I am responsible for my doing, nobody else. Finally, we came to terms me behaving more positively and I really will fulfil that demand.

Monday, 23
had desperate days behind - a continous phyical weakness, nausea that makes my mind unable to focus good and my self-conception has gone to nowhere
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a post of Tarrus Riley on fb: Your attitude determines your direction.
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i hope one day i'll close this diary, because i'll be too busy and don't need it anymore.

Sunday, 22
(when my father disturbs me the the following happens) I've made an observation, a kinda key moment. A psychoanalytical composition: a person in a moment of fear of losing a maternal like connection to his or her own natural state of being (self-evidence) possibly becomes overwhelmed by an emotional boost which - when in company - let her or him talk in mental leaps which may appear contradictory or even schizophrenic. In that very moment s/he is embedded in an isolation only a close person is able to absorb by showing instinctive devotion dialectic to an intellectual contribution.

Saturday, 21
you have to know yourself; what are your passions. what you want to change
is your passion to make the change; have something to become different.
know who you are, be passionate about what you are doing
let your passion guide you
Yagonoma Baatuolkuu, Founder Wanjo Food
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In the morning I play digitalised games to wake up whereas our neighbour plays the piano to give the day a smooth start. Hey wow, that is cool.

Friday, 20
i ponder and wonder about the phenomenom that people on first hand consider the age of a person - does s/he look young or old; mostly relative to their recorded age documented in their passport. looking young is always something good, postive. when you look young you receive warm vibes rather than hostile vibes. consequently, in case you are looking old better forget about going out. stay in the house and hide till you look younger. in case you cannot make it looking younger still stay in the house or at best - kill yourself - or, give a f*ck and tell yourself: i don't urge anybody to look at my face. I do have the right to live and enjoy life like anybody else whether displaying beauty or not.

Thursday, 19
Love hotels in Japan - interesting. everyone who wants to know about Japan:
miyazaki-japan.net

Wednesday, 18
Preparing for Biennale 56. Those who read here know by now and probably guess right; it is not about presenting my work (everybody anticipates am not famous in terms of credentials and somehow - it is like i dismiss that fact in a way, although certain rivals will laser me to reflect myself correctly - never forget who you are really), but traveling Venice to meet with the work of other artists and pimp my knowledge as well as my network (for Gambia). An investment, because i'll pay traveling costs, accomodation, food and additionally the costs for a ticket. So my bookkeeping self tells me not just to dump that pile of money.

Tuesday, 17
it was a long talk on the phone (45 min). in the beginning she advised me not caring so much about my profession and acting more human. a topic I wrote about in the beginning of this month. I was sad not even my mother understood. I started complaining that I wasted my time working for other’s delight so long, following their ideas instead of my own just to get money. she said “maren, most of the people are doing so and I thought you did a nice job like selling things and talking to people.” I said to her “there are artists who are able to work selfdetermined what gives them a feeling of completeness.” I was desperate. she had no idea what I had been through. in the end I exaggerated to make her understand and told her that I oftenly suffered. Oh, she answered, I never knew that you were suffering. Oh, sorry.

another incident connected to my Mom respectively to my parents. last time they visited me (dec14) i introduced them to my small studio in the attic where avendre was still exposed. they decided to buy one of them, but couldn't make up their mind easily. that's why i suggested that one of myself, because they have a lot family pictures at home so they might like it, i thought. the picture had been snapped at a namering ceremony several years ago. but, you know what my mother said: no, i don't want it, we don't see you this way. i tell you i really had tried to put my most beautiful face i ever can do and she says, noo, we don't like your face here. you see, people's perception is crucially related to their very own experiences.

Monday, 16
talking to my mother on the phone sharing memories again I become aware how different the same occurrence can come out by two people. most of the time we don't remember the same events as we are interested in distinct matters. history is a very flexible concern that is not possible to put in a positivist order like extremists do, but has to be determined over a pluralistic rack in the sense that divers perceptions are given chance to exist next to each other none of which is the one and only. her story next to my story next to my sister's to my father's story to my brother's story to my friends' stories and so on. so many stories.
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I would like to announce the exhibition of my friend Thokozani Mthiyane at Mzansi Gallery:
Wetin they happen Joz Lagos?

Sunday, 15
i wish i had a quiet, peaceful Sunday evening. Yes - no fearful thoughts disturbing me.

Saturday, 14
then we made up our mind and booked a place to stay in Venice what followed me into my dreams during the night.
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after a frustrating day at work went to cinema - Samba, lovely comedy, yeah it gave a boost to my mood nonetheless a rarely cognizable reference to its original was displayed. the book (i've lent it to a friend so i miss the possibility to verify and have to rely on my memory) contains neither a happy end nor a love story between the narrator and the main character. whereas his affair to Gracieuse the fiancé of a prison chap took up much more space in the novel. only a few features like names and some working conditions let me think of the written release. however, i very much like Charlotte Gainsbourg and seeing her and Omar Sy together (in their role) made me kinda happy.
------------ where is my mind ----------
a memory: there was a time i loved the idea of a time machine. i was convinced one day it would be possible to visit there by using the speed of light.
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Reality is a voracious giant. If you ever have tried to escape you know about.

Friday, 13
what can I say - we went there, to the opening talk. Hmmm. Making Africa.
To think about a future is to think about one's own possibilites in the world.
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you know, when you have a dream, yeah, sometimes it should stay a dream, because a dream becoming reality is likely to lose its magic. reality eats up everything. I am about to let follow more empty words like anyway I am contented.

Wednesday, 11
as it is start doing my job again, my brain goes dizzy like a pumkin. high time i did my own business. can't wait, get desperate, feel stagnation. today a woman working for Migros culture percentage told me that they are supporting only national projects, not Africa.

Tuesday, 10
on Friday Opening Talk with Okwui Enwezor close by here

Monday, 9
this life here in Basel is only to preserve myself for Africa. anyway, respect to my friends who stay here and hopefully will visit me there.

Sunday, 8
in the evening cannot stop watching bad movie again - Into the Blue (what better to expect of a channel like RTL, German's most capitalistic television broadcaster). every time of a pod i am about to press the right knob, but am not able to leave the movie. am with Sam (what is my second nickname after Mimi Mofingo) and feel sorry for Amanda who is eaten by a shark. and, in the end, i am happy that they find the gold.
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International Women's Day. Opening at my work place Skulpturhalle Basel.

Saturday, 7
To tha VeryEnd/

Friday, 6
Waiting for my flight 8.10 in the morning I am here at a deserted Gatwick Airport where a voice consistently, every 30 minutes, resounds from loudspeakers : Passengers are reminded in the interest of safety children are not permitted to ride baggage trolleys. Very surreal. There are barely ten people around of who none is less than 20 years old. During daytime the announcement might make sense, but now at nighttime it mocks itself exposing the shortcomings of our High-tech society.

Thursday, 5
a pharmacist has given me a birthcontrol pill to reduce my menopause pains. let me try that one.

Wednesday, 4
I remember I learned about the women's liberation movement in school (in the nineteen seventies) and that it began in the 19th century. What I've found in wikipedia: interesting the timeline at the bottom.

Tuesday, 3
We have bought a very beautiful piece of land in Tintinto where we'll build The House of Culture, indeed. It took us several days till we finally had a valuable contract of land ownership in our hands. Though calmy reading it through a mistake jumped into my eyes like a terrible brainwave after I had signed it: the calculation of the total of squaremeters had been put into the system wrongly. They had reckoned only a newly attached lawn, what meant 650m2 were missing - the size of our first piece of land, 25m by 25m which I mentioned last month concerning the rhizoms that had to be removed from the soil to prevent the house being infected and spoiled in future.
The owner of that very first lawn had offered us an additional double-sized piece of land measuring 25m x 50m some weeks ago. Videlecit, on the whole we got an L-shape lawn 25x50x20x25x25. That is how they recorded the property in our first contract stamped by the Alkalo of Tujering Village. A total of a squaremeter of this very first contract (fortunately a trustworthy evidence that we own both lawns alltogether) was not given and didn't seem of much importance. The reason why I skipped that number (subconsciously, I guess) whithin the following contract drafted by Brikama Area Council. But as they say, it is not a big deal to adjust the correct size of 1875 m2.

Yesterday, we had our first meeting with an architect who is building the house.

Monday, 2
a speaker of truth has no friends. African Proverb

Sunday, 1
thinking about Sartre and his Being and Nothingness - a book once belonged to me, but which i left in one of the houses i used to live in - i wondered about ontology. in wikipedia a list of prominent ontologists (67) is given among which not even one woman is mentioned. is it because women give birth to a biologically existent subject (which is connected to her emotionally lifelong) that there is no need for them to question the nature of being, becoming, existence, or reality and therefore no given reason to write books on this very issue?
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some of my friends tell me profession isn't of any importance. what matters is who they are as a human being. of course profession shouldn't be just something to boast on and for sure it is not their profession what makes me love them. however, within this life i am leading my profession matters and i proudly call myself artist.