Now that it seems as if people needed disasters of previously unimaginable extent to be reminded of nature’s force it is worthwhile remembering that there used to be times where we did not fall into the trap of overestimating our own forces too quickly. Swiss people might not have been suffering from such terrible earthquakes as Japanese did. Nevertheless, our country has never been good at hiding its natural forces. Who would not feel small and powerless in view of such mountains topped with everlasting snow? Relying on another supernatural force by building the small shrine in the foreground was the locals’ way of dealing with something they could not fully understand.

What if we still fail to fully understand? Building a shrine is definitely not a solution to me. But denying our weakness isn’t one either.

If there is something bothering you, try to change it. But some things are set. They cannot be changed. Trying to change them seems as ridiculous as trying to remove or destroy these rocks on the picture above. They have been there for millions of years. Find out what can be changed and what just has to be accepted the way it is. Sometimes it is better to go around the rock.

This picture is very special to me. It is probably one of the first photos I have made. And it is definitely the first one I have developped manually.

The depicted cactus was just as big as my thumb. The photograph was thought as an experiment with that expensive lens my father owned. I wanted to see whether I could really focus on one specific part of that cactus; on the front to be precise. What would happen to that cactus if I made it blur? If I cut out so much that one almost couldn’t recognize what it was anymore? I still do not know what this picture is telling me, but I like to look at it for a while. Not thinking about anything or anyone. Back then, the cactus did not mean anything to me. It still doesn’t, but the picture has become precious.

Big rocks surround the town of Mwanza at the shore of Lake Victoria. Some of them have been piled by overwhelming forces milions of years ago so that we can climb them nowadays and overlook the infinite lake that carries the name of an English queen. Besides the function of a viewpoint, the rocky hills serve the people as a reservoir: after each rainfall the depressions that have been washed out over the years are filled with clean water. During the rainy season, these two boys go up to that hill every day to fetch water. Jiwe Kubwa the place is called. It means “Big rock” in Swahili.

Winter is recapturing Switzerland. The roofs are covered with a layer of snow that is so thin that the next time temperature is rising just a tiny little bit the warmth will make the whitness disappear so quickly that we will all start doubting whether the snow has really been there or whether it has just been a product of our imagination  – a dream, like so many other things that are too beautiful to be constant.

Even if we know we have seen these things, it is sometimes hard to believe that it has not been merely a dream. Take the picture above. I found it in my archive. Of course, I remember the day, I remember the sight of the cottage, I remember the smoke coming out of the chimney, I remember the sun disappearing in the trees. But the memory was too perfect to be taken for real if I had not found that particular picture again proving me that moments of perfect beauty really exist.

(Copyright by Michael Schilliger, 2004)

Temperatures have suddenly started rising. Snowflakes turned into raindrops killing the fluffy white layer on the streets and roofs, just leaving a sludgy, grey mass: despicable mud of the worst  sort. The rain has turned the town into an apocalyptic wasteland. If anyone remembers a day Zurich has looked more obscene, let me know. On such a day, I seek shelter from reality in the abstract beauty that this town also is blessed with. The apocalypse needn’t be an ugly event.

People standing in a circle watching a bold man bending and twisting his body like a puppet made out of gum. Some look bewildered, some are fascinated by the man’s flexibility. Not all of them know what to make out of the performance, but they all share for a short instance this one common space in which their thoughts revolve around the astonishing skills one can acquire by mixing talent with practice and will. The dancer’s performance has united the diverse crowd that soon will break up again in this imaginary space. Like I have invited you to this space of mine where I present you my twisting thoughts, confront you with my view that just for a second becomes yours, before you leave again, hopefully keeping a fraction of my ideas in your brain’s back room where they remain til you drop and share them in another space…

(Copyright by Michael Schilliger, 2009)

In a country where people seem to believe that the only answer and solution to the problem of crimes committed by migrants is deporting migrants, something must be fundamentally wrong.

If the people of the very same country do not vote for changing the tax regime in such a way that the wealthiest individuals in their society are forced to pay a certain minimal percentage of taxes, something must be fundamentally wrong or the people of this country are just a bunch of mad dickheads…

Or probably it is me that is the dickhead. What if it is me that is just not getting it? Probably I am just looking at the world from the wrong perspective. Upside down, like the breakdancer on the picture. However, even if it was my perspective that is weird, the people watching me should still be grateful, for their perspective only bears meaning when it is juxtaposed to seemingly ridiculous and weird views.

Just as we can only praise our high level of civilization by looking down on others. If we have deported all the others, on who will we be looking down then?

One more week until madness seizes power over Switzerland. One more week until Switzerland makes itself the country having the most ridiculous and most draconic deportation law of  entire Europe.

Therefore, let’s remember some things that foreign cultures, strangers, migrants not always leaving their homecountry by choice have brought to our societies. Some of these things are not recognized as donations of foreign cultures anymore. They have been integrated and swallowed by our societies that much that we almost forget that they have been brought to us by people who we did not always welcome enthusiastically. Breakdance, for example, is a cooproduction of Afroamericans and Latin Americans who had emigrated to the US. They worked together peacefully and created a very specific dancing style that today is being taught and studied in every European dancing school. Even the Migros Klubschule, a school financed by Switzerlands biggest grocery store offering  arts, sports and language courses affordable for everyone, offers breakdance lessons. How many of the people attending the breakdance lessons at the Migros Klubschule will vote for a more draconic deportation law?

Anyway, people in Lyon seem to enjoy the Breakdance performance on the street…

In the valley of beauty
A river floats slyly
Mocking our minds
His bed appears dryly

Snakes and curls
Making us forget
That rivers as tears
Both can be wet

Beauty bears dangers
Or is it the danger that’s pretty?
Hiding its cruelty
No time for pity