An anagram is a poem formed by rearranging the letters of a different word or phrase. The anagram in this poetry film is based on a verse from Emma McGordon's poem MAGNETIC: "The tongue is a needle. And I am true North. Telling lies." On the shores of the Gili Islands several endangered species of sea turtles lay their eggs. Stop climate change now.

My contribution to the debate on mandatory vaccination in Germany.

A picture is a picture is a picture is a picture. It’s a language, an expression. Can it be a voice? It’s a possibility, it’s power. Does it bring responsibility? It’s abstraction and truth. May we, through alienation, see beauty in the terrible? Do we even have to, in order to step in front of ourselves?

A performative poetry film about what nobody wants to see. Childish paper dolls and tableaus thrown together in collage aesthetics with symbolism of war, politics and religion. A poem referencing the siege of Leningrad. Suffragette colors, Aileen Wuornos glorification, and wonderful landscapes combined with Nazi uniforms. Nothing is innocent.

For years a wanderer steered clear of his home village but now the time has come to get closer again. However his old homeland welcomes him in silence. After bumping into an old acquaintance the silence might be broken.

„Theres Always Something“ is both the name of the film and the poem by Micha Kunze. It’s a film about depression. About getting lost in the own mind. Not coming to conclusions but trying to fight without drowning in pain and sorrow. It’s like an inventory of the feelings of a person who just hit rock bottom – and doesn’t even know it yet.

In "Bergpfirsich / Flat Peach" a self with mountain peach and wallet meanders in response to "Pulse", the corpus, which lies white, powerful, in tubes and monstrous, or "pulses" and eludes a concrete determination as an object: Fabric tarpaulins, industrial impression, corporeal. "Bergpfirsich" speaks to this "Pulse" object in a flow of language created for it, bringing the two together. Sub- and objects exchange positions and lead a life of their own as things. The I disappears, the functional determinacy of the words as for "door" and "window" likewise, the mountain peach and the wallet remain. And the money of a baker.

Im Begriff zu verschwinden is an experimental poetry film in which minimalist poems and dream-like aestheticized and expressive images enter into a dialogue with each other, a silent poetic-philosophical meditation on loss and transience, grief and death, light and darkness, on speechlessness and the necessity of language, a melancholic journey into the abyss of 'transcendental homelessness' in which man loses himself.

One of the most vivid memories I have of my childhood is the fear of death. The fear of disappearing, of becoming nothing. In 2019 my grandmother and aunt passed away. This terrible pain of losing them both led me to remember and acknowledge my primal fear as a child. This pain made me look deep inside myself. In my culture, family plays an essential role in the healing process after the death of a loved one. I was in Germany, far away from my home. I was feeling deep loneliness, so difficult to bear. But I wanted to heal, and I wanted to do it in a sincere way. Inspiration took tangible form, transformed into traces, into symbologies and coded messages that guided me using the rhythm and symbolism of nature.

"D Frou Bovary de Porrentruy," a bored, shopaholic housewife who seeks to escape the bourgeois cage of a small Jura town through online dating.
On her spoken word CD "50 Hertz", Ariane von Graffenried tells stories of eight historical or fictional "heroines", that means women whose stories map the basic patterns of a long, mostly nameless and unwritten her-story. The texts virtuously mix German, Swiss German, English, and French in a  language or spoken word play.