My mother. A topic that makes me so desperate that I try to ignore my distant relationship with her in a frenzy. Medications and drugs that in their own way transform the desperation into a virtual love. I never really got to know her and today she is a stranger with a residence permit in my world of emotions. A fiction that could become real at any moment if I only wanted. Am I afraid? Am I hurt? Am I guilty? A separation which I process in the work. Maybe it would be easier for me if our cultures were not so different. My African identity in contrast to the Germa n personality are in conflict. A divided work of art by a fragmented soul.