Saturday, August 29, 1992

A book like poisen

This Book is like poison". Johannes had warned. But it was too late I had
already taken it.

I was set up so nicely in Berlin. Nobody can beat the German girls. I had
already met Michi, a very tall and very slender Korean girl with brown skin
and long black hair. She had broken up with her boyfriend two months
before and was busy trying to line up the next one. It was summer and
she was very horny and in Berlin you don't get much of a chance. Winter
comes in just a moment. When she started talking to me in the cafe she
already had a project in mind that would fit nicely into her schedule if I
was interested. We had a very nice few days, with lots of candles and
baths and home cooked meals.

Then there was Annabelle. A curvy Bavarian blonde who seemed to have
leapt off the packaging of some beer company. Strangely enough, she
doesn't drink it. She is so friendly everybody loves her.

Every week the German government gives the unemployed a big
fish.Annabelle makes the dinner and all her friends bring the wine. I
stayed to help with the dishes.

We went to the dacha and swimming in the Wiesnsee. At the Tiefensee,
Annabelle swam all the way across and back with Johannes and I. Actually
I had to struggle to keep up with them. I ate the rabbit and Annabelle had
roast brat kartoffeln (roasted potatoes) which she loves. She
loves every kind of thing you can make with potato. You should see her
eyes light up. Just say "kartofelen poofin mit apfelmus sauce".

On our way to Documenta 11 I read out loud a German children's poem
called "Max and Moritz." It is about these two demented evil german boys
and the horrid jokes they play on mostly old helpless people. Annabelle
found it at the bottom of a sale bin in a used bookstore on Moll Strasse.
She thought I might like it.

On our way back it was too dark to read so we listened to "On the Road"
or "This book." as Johannes calls it. The next day he asked me if I was
going to Spain. I said yes. "Why not just stay in Berlin?" He asked me. "I
can imagine she has very good genes." He just shook his head. "This Book,
its like a poison."

But then, I would have never met Tunte and Shatzie.

Besides Annabelle and I wrote and then we met again in Barcelona. We
stayed for a week in the Barrio Gotic, a neighborhood with streets so
narrow you can reach across and touch the neighbors balcony. We had a
tiny room and an aloe plant. We bought a big chunk of gooey hash on the
street. We saw all of Gaudi. We made whole fish from the market
with rosemary we had gathered in Park Guell and Garlic so fresh it had
the juicy texture of an apple. And we learned to play Patanque.

I had always wanted to learn this game that old men in short sleeves and
berets play in the park. I didn't think we would get an invitation. We made
a project of buying a nice set and getting the rules. The rule book was
incomprehensible. There was so much "PROHIBIDO" that we couldn't
discern the rules of play. We made up are own and waited. Eventually the
old men took the bait. What spanish gentleman could refuse this pretty
blonde Berliner? She was so sweet, especially when she said things like.
"Ohh 15, did I win again?

All of Spain and I think perhaps much of Germany knows that I only won
one game and that it was close.

I got a message from Tunte to "Watch out". He said that Daniella was
very disappointed that my girlfriend had shown up. I had already caught
the vibe. That makes two hotels in a row where the landlord wanted to
jump me. Daniella's friends have helped her turn her rooms into an art
installation. There are so many little doors with strange metal clasps and
every sight is designed like the perfect movie set. Much of the inspiration
comes from Cosima. She is a sculptor and you can see it in her muscular
but very feminine body. She is older an italian beauty with thick black hair
and a classic latina face. When she can she gives me these piercing looks
that make me shudder. I think she is the dangerous one.

Annabelle is oblivious to all of this. She is so nice. There are so many
beauties in Barcelona and they are so skillful with it. They lie naked on the
beaches here during the day and then squeeze themselves into
unimaginably sexy outfits for the evenings. It is hard to imagine why
chaos doesn't break out. She took me to a club last night where the
women all had their phazers set on kill. I had to ask her if we could leave. I
tried to explain to her the next morning why I felt uncomfortable. She
told me that she didn't´t even notice these other girls. Why should she?
There are always so many nice men looking at her.

Annabelle left for the airport yesterday. I begin my slow journey
tomorrow. First the night train to Malaga, then the plane to Berlin, a day
there and then New York. But first one last night in Barcelona.