You won – 22 million Euros. I was staring at my screen. 22 million Euroooos. So what? Getting myself a slip of paper, writing down this number, my hand shivering. My pencil doesn’t stop circulating. 22 000 000. What am I going to do with this lump? Buying a beautiful house or an apartment overlooking the roofs of my city? Travelling first? Arriving somewhere else? And then? There? Brooding over it. Going on touching other people? Or doing something else – even greater? My view goes to my phone. Maybe the best is phoning someone, telling someone about my incomprehensible mood. Who first? Family? They will go mad, won’t they? No idea. My friends? Will they share my happiness? Maybe some disagreements? Will I be sharing something of this lump? Of course, if it makes a sense. But how can I know? Chewing on my pencil. And will the lump long until the end? I should increase the amount of money, stopping it from disappearing faster than I think.
Starting my computer to look for smart estates. Google: Luxury flats in Berlin. Oh – reading completely different words in the synopsis than in previous investigations. Elegance, classy, ambience, kitchen with an island unit, master area, sauna, fitness and wellness area with spa, wine cellar, plastering and marble elements . . . It’s a nice feeling, when the price is not the linchpin of my choice. Scrolling the synopsis. Stately homes, brimming over unsophisticatedly, far away from cosiness, most of them built in between with a limited view on other luxury apartments. Grinning I started thinking about Marzahn, but meanwhile there are a lot of big trees between the blocks of flats.
Log myself out and go into the kitchen. Need a nice pot of coffee now. Slowly the day is dawning. Some lights are shining in the house opposite mine. Looking down from my window into a cosy living-room. A wall full of books, a big table decorated with a big vase in its middle. A woman dressed in a red pinafore dress at the table, a man standing behind her. Slowly kissing her neck. Then she turns round laying her arms around his neck. They start swinging. He is whispering into her ear and she is laughing. He takes her hand. She is looking up at him and they are turning passionately in the pulse of a tango. What a beautiful view. I can feel the music and the unique enchantment. My heart is getting warm.
That’s it – the untouchable and unpayable that is breathing quality into life which cannot be compensated by money or gold. Experience – alone or two by two with someone cherishing you. My coffee has got cold meanwhile. The woman is closing the curtains of the tango room.
Pling, an email message. I startle. It’s dark around me and I’m lying in the crumpled bed. What’s the time? My alarm clock shows 3:40. Did I dream? Something about luxury, love and passion? Walk into the kitchen having a glass of water. Looking out of the window. Some lights are still shining. The man from the other side is sitting at the table with the abundant vase. Hooking he writes something into a laptop. Perhaps his wife is on a journey and they are chatting, or is she napping in the room next door? I feel tired and hole up into my still warm bed. Pure luxury!
What did I deal with during the last two months? My third hand-photo-slide show „Dream Hands” has got ready. The camera caught my hands in a wonderful way and this time I took everything in black and white. Only a few is sometimes a little bit more . . .