Marcel Winatschek

Papers on the Wall

Found my system. The papers are just stuck up there—crosswise, overlapping, no logic to it. Every interior design show I’ve ever half-watched would call this a creative idea corner and say it with a straight face. But it works: whenever my head goes blank, which happens more than I’d like to admit, I lean back, look up, and something clicks. Or something else happens. Either way.

Mom still hadn’t seen the new apartment, so I took a ridiculous number of photos to document where I spend my time when I’m not at work or at Burger King. Probably the last photos for a while—I dropped my digicam on the S-Bahn floor the other night, drunk, and there’s nothing to say about that except that I did absolutely nothing to prevent it.