Some people think, he’s an odd fish. But Django knows he can fly. His soul is old and for many years it has been split – into a girl’s dress, a brown towel, some red fabric and a kind of plastic. These textiles met in the winter of 2011 in the 13th floor of a Berlin tower block. Vanessa united them to form Django’s body. His personality, however, arose out of a typewriter:



Vanessa brought Django on his first journey. As a birthday present he moved from Berlin to Bremen and helped Doro to forget her fears of being stuck in a narrow world of can’ts and musts. Still, it had taken many weeks of sitting in a dusty shelf until Django finally managed to convey his message: “Let us travel!” he whispered, a thousand times. At first, Doro did not listen to Django. She was busy complaining and pondering upon the limits of a free life. When Django got louder, Doro got angry. “We cannot travel. We have to be useful,” she hissed. Django said: “Let us find a treasure!” Doro snorted: “There are no treasures.” But Django insisted that there are treasures and finally Doro yelled: “Stop talking! You are just fantasy!”                                                            The next day, Django was gone.

2012 © Photos | Efi Kontogeorgou

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