There is this sparrow in the sweet cherry tree imitating other birds and my daughter calling the dog. Such a clever bird. I took a picture of it but it sat high in the tree, singing along all the beautiful songs of the other ones. On the bench beneath I am trying to do my best.
Last week, I do not recall which day, I met a friend. He likes mirrors. So whenever he makes an installation he uses mirrors. He told me about that. Actually, I never liked the sight of a mirror, but now I am going to use one in a tiny installation. It will reflect a white mountain of paint. I am an imitator. My daughter is making a film of a hoverfly, they don’t sting. That is great. She gave me permission to use the film for the film ‘My life as an amateur’. It might be as nice as the film about the lamellen, if this word even exists in English. Let's talk about imperfection. We have this tiny sink in our tiny garden house and when I wanted to wash my hands after removing some asbest plates from the earth there was this sorrowful fat little spider with its legs curled under, or over, I do not know a thing about the physics of spiders, its body. I waited some seconds before turning the tap on and when it was still in the same place I removed it gently with my bare hands to the earth of our garden. Not the safest place I must admit, imperfect it is. Above the tiny sink is a tiny mirror, I gave it a gentle smile. At least that was what I saw, it still stays an imitation.
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