LOST IN FINDINGS

Each place has a history and tale untold which needs to be revealed and spread again. First it seems to be more an instant stumbling, but rapidly the first syllables are being uttered by an archaic reflex leading to further unknown obstacles and dubious signs at remote locations wiped off our mind.

In the tunnels of a now globalized perception the restless nomad gazes deeply surprised and concerned on the multiple colours of common oblivion. This shock urges to move quickly forward in this labyrinth created long time ago. Here dead objects start a new life unexpectedly.

To climb on the Kilimanjaro of junk and waste is not only a dream in order to discover the beautiness of varied things simply thrown away, instead this may serve as well as a dooropener and humus for the forests of the future grown on rusty constructions of the past. Now  time has come to dig a little bit deeper.

On stony steep paths a vague monument can be reached at the horizon finally: the ruthless wall of fame torn down by insistent history. Time to relax after another short survey of contemporary ruins and related dumping grounds – to be continued.