Walking and Moaning



7th of December 2001
Walking and Moaning Walking and Moaning Walking and Moaning

Dusk at five p.m. on a Friday evening. Dressed in a hooded white chemical boiler suit on the back of which was a roughly painted red cross. On my head was a lamp, red tape over my mouth and I wore dark glasses. With my right hand I swung an incense burner. As I walked, I chanted and moaned, sometimes quietly, sometimes very loudly. Emerging from the underpass, I walked the entire length of the long shopping street. I broke focus once to acknowledge solidarity with the peace demonstration in the centre of town.