Fate of metal. Fate of plastic. Fate of soil.

They used the trains as a stimulus for free writing about Lichtenberg. Like Pavlovian dogs dogs, they trained themselves to write whenever a train passed by. The training was so effective that their hands trembled when they heard a train. The words gushed out like hot lava from a volcano. The studios in Lichtenberg became their melting pot in which they where they mixed the words and forgot who wrote what, who they were and what they did where. did. And then they boiled the words into a little concoction of poems. Then they became inexperienced street artists and tried to stick a poem around town. in the city. The sticky label assured them: “Removable with water … solvent-free … dries transparent”. When they returned to the scene 30 minutes later, they found that the glue had dried like white paint. glue had dried like white paint. I wonder if that has something to do with the cold? Hopefully the people in Lichtenberg can still read this.

Viktoriastadt has many trains that form an island between the tracks. The Lichtenberg studios are located on this island, on the top floor of a Wilhelmine building, above a museum. a museum. The bedroom is located in the studio, from the windows of which you can see three tracks that lie beyond the small garden, separated only by a thin corrugated iron wall. separated by a thin corrugated iron wall. Inside the train there were anonymous passengers, who were being watched by the two artists, who stood at the two windows, unnoticed. They were writing about them. They will make further notes, dictated by trains and islands. They come to a point where they get stuck and start again by writing writing “they will”. They will go in willingly, even if their tasks are not yet fully completed completed, but they won’t. That’s the whole point. They will keep writing until a train comes along.