Tuesday, the 7th of October; Rostock
Peter Weiss Haus is as good as a squat; it houses a Litteraturhaus, whose office upstairs makes me instantly want to sit down to a desk and believe in the future of literature. Moreover, a special room for children's events, space for writing classes, the venue itself with a cathedral ceiling and beautiful energy, and a cafe that opened a week ago but already looks like someone wrote a novel sitting at the corner table.
The crowd is a good size, and youngest so far. Riikka's Finnish flows free from dream to waking life. I (the hermit) sit there happy as a clam as thunder breaks out; my band, already pretty great, now features Ukko. Aina's sentences turn and turn about and her eyes send questions. Satu doesn't stop to catch her breath but goes on with the intensity; she abides (Malinen). The meat fries well and Maria incorporates totally new kinds of arms. The sounds are loud and Matti has to run and shout, and boy, does he. Henriikka finds everyone with her eyes while the song plays, she's there. Eino's pauses in the end are not "just so", they're perfect for the anguish and fun. And, as always, Kaisa runs the projections with breathing precision.
We stay in the Café Marat, and Katinka Friese and a other good Rostock people stay with us. We like the place and what they are doing with it so much that we gravitate towards it, looking for each other, the next evening - after sea breeze and other types of rest. We have a favourite bar in Rostock. The next day a longish train will take us to Frankfurt.
Peter Weiss Haus is as good as a squat; it houses a Litteraturhaus, whose office upstairs makes me instantly want to sit down to a desk and believe in the future of literature. Moreover, a special room for children's events, space for writing classes, the venue itself with a cathedral ceiling and beautiful energy, and a cafe that opened a week ago but already looks like someone wrote a novel sitting at the corner table.
The crowd is a good size, and youngest so far. Riikka's Finnish flows free from dream to waking life. I (the hermit) sit there happy as a clam as thunder breaks out; my band, already pretty great, now features Ukko. Aina's sentences turn and turn about and her eyes send questions. Satu doesn't stop to catch her breath but goes on with the intensity; she abides (Malinen). The meat fries well and Maria incorporates totally new kinds of arms. The sounds are loud and Matti has to run and shout, and boy, does he. Henriikka finds everyone with her eyes while the song plays, she's there. Eino's pauses in the end are not "just so", they're perfect for the anguish and fun. And, as always, Kaisa runs the projections with breathing precision.
We stay in the Café Marat, and Katinka Friese and a other good Rostock people stay with us. We like the place and what they are doing with it so much that we gravitate towards it, looking for each other, the next evening - after sea breeze and other types of rest. We have a favourite bar in Rostock. The next day a longish train will take us to Frankfurt.
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