STIFLE

REFLECTOR VECTOR
‘You stole the asphalt tinsel?!’ exclaimed a friend with a burst of scandalized emojis after I sent a snapshot of a strip of temporary road demarcation tape that was peeling off the pavement. ‘Well, it’s not like I caused an accident…’ I veered to counter - as nonplussed Neukölln newbie protesting how I was even doing public service by picking up the trash. ‘Sure, no accident while you were there’.
Driven by this uncertain guilt, I deploy a length of now new and legally acquired heavy-duty demarcation tape along an imaginary vertical avenue — a sort of solitary, solemn obelisk, a stripped-down Jacob's Ladder turned muted monument yet there to glare: a stele for the speed.

AND OTHER MUMS’ DAUGHTERS
HAVE PRETTY HEADS TO BREAK
This plaster cast of an almost intact motorcycling helmet is the artist’s first foray into the genre of ‘revenge-porn Plastik': ambivalently-formed alabaster figurines predestined for demure interiors. The shoddy English translation of the familiar German saying leaves one agnostic as to who the agent of violence here really is and whose head, or heads, are getting broken. Amidst the detritus of the protracted drama, the Unsaid ends into reverse-resonance and the thumping of crashbodies on the Asphalt of Abandonment.

PERMAFLUFF
In spring each year, allergies know no alleviation: birch is to blame. That is why, come July, as puffs of non-offending poplar pollen start quietly to carpet parking lots and walkways all along the Spree, the international brigades of art-workers convene to harvest, gleeful, handfuls of the fluff - to sculpt shapes with. Proudly on display amidst transparent perspex, is a portion of this PERMAFLUFF perennial collection: a plant-spunk-playdo window into slapstick traumatology.

LFFN (Little Fortuna for Neukölln)
Strange fruit, odd blossom, faint flight.