A whole night of Leonard Cohen songs at the Romanfabrik and I'm already at the door twenty minutes too early — camera bag on, boots on, no patience left. You're coming with me, right?
A whole night of Leonard Cohen songs at the Romanfabrik and I'm already at the door twenty minutes too early — camera bag on, boots on, no patience left. You're coming with me, right?
My ears are still ringing from the show and the bed has officially claimed me hostage — I'm not negotiating my own release. Come collect me?
Saigon Soul Revival at the Brotfabrik tonight and I'm still in the towel because the mirror keeps winning arguments. It's holding on out of pure politeness at this point. Talk fast before it gives up?
Halloween is over and my floor looks like a witch exploded — glitter, cobwebs, one lonely horn. Instead of cleaning I keep putting the headband back on. Be honest, do the horns stay up all November?
Zoom wants everyone scary as hell tonight and so far my costume is exactly one pair of horns. Everything else is still on the floor where it belongs. Come dress me — or talk me out of it?
Halloween is mine and the face always comes first — costume doesn't touch skin until every line is right. That's my excuse for sitting here like this, and I'm sticking to it. Come watch me finish the other half?
Eli Preiss at Das Bett tonight, and I've decided trousers are a last-minute problem. Tea first, decisions after. Come help me waste the last hour before I have to get ready?
Little Big at ZOOM tonight, so I'm doing a fitting and the mesh won the argument before it started. Honestly, less is a suggestion tonight. Rate my outfit before I commit?
Mahler's First at the Alte Oper tonight and I still haven't bought a ticket. Some decisions are easier made horizontal. Talk me into the good seats?
Ponyhof is barely bigger than my kitchen and yara goes on in minutes, so I've already claimed the best spot in the room and I'm not negotiating over it. Come stand where I tell you to.