
I know I am special – I am unique.
And so is everyone else.
Of course, in my heart of hearts, I believe that I am more unique than others…
fortunately, in my head of heads, I know it not to be true.

One of the main tasks of childhood is to learn how to deal with monsters.
This is why dinosaurs are so fascinating for children –
they are monsters, concrete and palpable.
There is nothing human about them,
they kill with teeth and claws, not words, greed and cowardice.
They are easy, training monsters,
a menace you can understand, a threat without ambivalence.
What do you do if you meet a monster?
Do you run?
Do you fight?
Do you train to be stronger than them?
Do you learn to be smarter?
After going to the Museum of Natural History
and learning about T-Rex
you couldn’t stop laughing:
running around with your arms pressed into your sides,
waving your hands feebly at chest-level,
saying, ‘itty-bitty hands!’
I think you chose the best option.
I think you will be all right.

White feathers litter the ground
under the castle wall,
torn out by doves
fighting for nesting sites.

Who am I?
Am I reflections of the world or the mirrors reflecting it?
Where do I begin?
What is inside and what is outside?
Inside and outside of what?
There is no one answering.
I hope there is someone asking.

We live in an endless universe consisting of space and time… and we are always short of both.