I started this project on MySpace. I had an idea, what I wanted to do and I thought, this might be a good place to put it into action.

But on MySpace you need to have friends. You can send post bulletins to your friends and invite them to your site.

So I asked people, if they want to be my friend.

Some people asked me, why I ask them for friendship. Some are a little rude. Like this girl. She goes: Who are you and what do you want?
I say: Something strange happend to me and I can’t talk to anyone. I want to find some people here.
She goes: If you can’t talk to anyone, then why should you talk to me?
- I can’t talk to someone, who is far away and doesn’t know me.
She goes: All right, well I’m far away and I don’t know you, so we can’t talk.
- But I want to tell my story here to some people…
- Why?
Myself: Maybe to understand it better…
- How does telling others help you understand?
- Because what happend, was unbelievable.
- That makes next to no sense (sic!), but do what you want.

Well, I don’t know how to begin… It was five years ago. I still was working as a therapist for drugpeople. Not as a real therapist, more a kind of person you can talk to. We work on the street in a big kombi. The junkies, mostly girls, mostly prostitutes, come in and we give them a café and some sandwich and so. And we try to talk to them. I studied medicine and was educated as a therapist. That’s why I got this job. But anyone could do it. You just need to have some sensetivity. It was lousy payed and no one realy cared, what we did an how we did it.

One of my friends is an actress and a photographer and sometimes she works as a camera(wo)man. She also was a painter. She had sometimes some psychological problemas. And she was very feministic those days, I mean: very. She did not read much. She was not the kind of person, who would give a lecture on gender. But she misstrusted any man deeply. She also was very political correct, what I never was. She called me and said, that she is afraid. This meant, that she has a kind of panic attack, more or less. I work often with people, who have panic attacks.

I am sorry, but I really don’t know, how to tell a story. And I feel, that I beat about the bush (is this correct?). However… she told me things, she told me from a guy and showed me some coverage she did. And I said, I was shocked, but I wasn’t. Actually I was exited, in all means of the terme.

This material did fascinate me.

I really wanted to join. Sometimes I am a little vampire, I love to investigate personal secrets and explore all kinds of traumatas. Maybe this is, why I always wanted to be a psychologist. And so I got in the project by pretending I was a camera(wo)man.

I will put some of the material here, than I will try to continue. I will try my best to be straight ahead.

Yours, Malaria
(È già abbastanza tardi, buona notte!)

p.s. It’s always important to execute an idea and to reduce it to a practice.

p.p.s. I forgot to mention the name of my friend. Her name is Marie-Christine Hunter.