I am a child of the 1968 movement. At least I was born in that year. Growing up in Suhl, Thuringia, in a country that rarely provided us with bananas, but plenty of Bratwurst and dumplings. 

The end of the world was just a few of kilometers away. They called it border frontier and one would have been able to fly in order too see what is behind. Therefore, maybe, I always wanted to be a cosmonaut, or at least a helicopter pilot. I wanted to be up in the air. At first though, I stayed down to earth and wanted to study medicine. I graduated from high school and had to join the national „Volksarmee“ in the GDR for three years.

But then, everything turned out completely different. An important man misspoke. The people took him by his word and believed he had promised them freedom, and suddenly, the Berlin Wall was gone. There was no end of the world anymore. Before the man recognizes his mistake, I thought to myself, I will have to fulfill my dream of flying. I went to a travel agency and chose the furthest destination possible: Miami, Florida sounded great. Finally: I get to fly!

Somehow, my goal of becoming a doctor had vanished. Instead, I became a male nurse and started to act at theaters. To be on stage, or, even better, in front of the camera. 

To slip into any role. To do things that could bring any private person into jail or at least into psychiatric ward. All of these these things feel like flying to me. Entirely without helicopters or rockets.