… with a marrriage of friends in Driebergen, including a party, sleeping over in a yurt (Mongolian tent), 2 deejays, a Taiwanese professor who sings ‘Alle Menschen werden Brüder’ in overtones, self-made marriage rituals that yet seem ‘authentic’ and move the heart (I missed that part), Serge who played trumpet while dancing to the music of the deejays (and nobody cared), and twice a performance of Oorbeek (at 23.30 and at 3.30 at night), with me playing a guitar that I wasn’t able to tune (too much noise) and decided therefore to untune/detune (?) completely. Out of tune, yet somehow also in tune. (Everything is possible). Culture is what people do together — that’s what I thought, enjoying to just sit around, be there on the grass, next to the yurts. Who needs art when people are together? Art is what the community makes. But then: how much I love and need it, to be alone, read alone, think alone, write alone: to be outside of that community, not to be around those yurts, but wander in the forest.