She is radiant, stands at the top of the stairs and gives you a welcome kiss. You feel at home. A thin golden thread loops round the neck from the ear on downward. She presents her work with fervour. What was, is and will come. And why. Blue light rushes through Graz. Marks, connects.
Hallways, empty spaces, rooms, buildings. She raises the glass. The soup is green, the sauerkraut steams in bowls. Stainless steel. Gold meets azure, string meets linen. Half round trip through the universe. She rides on Sunday. In a roundabout way. The flat countryside enchants. It's like a set of small sawtheeth.
You put it on your finger and it bites. She withdraws like a monk, seeks innovation and finds. Above a lake in New Zealand hangs a linked cubic bridge. Beneath a Russian whirlybird. She dances, travels, flutters; bows, composes, tilts; waves, weaves, tames; organizes, listens and understands.
From a wall tears drop and a waterfall rushes. A gate stands where it belongs. Vases love people. Krullenbollen flirt, a square unravels its secrets. Full of passion she follows Slava, embraces the master and dines. The elephants' ears have grown beyond proportion. The bamboo takes root.