My Worst Nightmare: Tal, Israel

February‘s theme for Voices of Berlin is My Worst Nightmare.   Tal, Israel   “My worst nightmare is being on a plane, crashing in the middle of the ocean and surviving, being alone in the middle of the ocean. Not finding your way out, just being there. Time goes by, and I’m just there with nothing to do except float. If you’re crashing and you’re dead, you’re dead it’s over but if you survive, it’s just now it’s just existing. I don’t even mean the sharks and things happening and the big waves and stones, sure that’s scary, but mainly the loneliness of just floating in the middle of the ocean, not knowing where you are or if anyone will ever come.”   Voices of Berlin is Berlin Untelevised‘s monthly Lives project. This project is to show the connection behind real lives within this both crazy and wonderful city by asking it’s many residents one question or theme...

My Worst Nightmare: Joe, Britain

February‘s theme for Voices of Berlin is My Worst Nightmare.   Joe, Britain “I had a recurring nightmare when I was a kid. It was that I was falling down a bottomless hole and being chased by a giant leaf. I used to call out in my sleep “I’m afraid of the giant leaf! I’m afraid of the giant leaf!” And I was, I was terrified I used to wake up in a cold sweat and crying, but I was young you know, 8, 9, 10 maybe. I’m not sure there’s not much meaning you can put on that, maybe it was a premonition about an environmental disaster? But I don’t like interpreting dreams.”   Voices of Berlin is Berlin Untelevised‘s monthly Lives project. This project is to show the connection behind real lives within this both crazy and wonderful city by asking it’s many residents one question or theme a month. Our ultimate goal is to curate...

My Worst Nightmare: Stefano, Venezuela

February‘s theme for Voices of Berlin is My Worst Nightmare.   Stefano, Venezuela “The first thing I thought of when you said worst nightmare is being buried alive. I have a terrible fear of that. I remember I saw a movie, I can’t remember the name, it could have been a show actually, but the guy was buried inside a coffin and he was trying to get out. It just scarred me for life… especially when I have to be inside anything confined. I was in this thing called the Tactile Dome and it was a kind of maze in the dark, and you were in there for 25 minutes going through little tunnels and slides and touching everything around you and it was completely dark. I almost went – I almost had a little, tiny panic attack but I didn’t. I’m a little bit claustrophobic but anyway, I just took a...

My Worst Nightmare: Mary, Ireland

Voices of Berlin is Berlin Untelevised‘s monthly Lives project. This project is to show the connection behind real lives within this both crazy and wonderful city by asking it’s many residents one question a month. Our ultimate goal is to curate a collection of accounts on many topics, ending each month with an abstract poem created through that month’s selection of responses and, thus, transform Berlin into a poet.  February‘s theme is My Worst Nightmare.   Mary, Ireland “So I had this recurring nightmare as a child. My dad was always really into music but it was always my mum that took me to this concert in my dream… which is weird cause it was always my dad that did that kind of stuff. She knew the band so we would go backstage and we got separated somehow, they would take me into one room and take her into another room. Then, I would come back into this...

“Rock Pools” – Craig Teatime

As a child I searched rock pools left aside by the tide, tried to redraw picture books in real life, from the shelf I could reach up to, which divided to a full page double spread of a watercolor a child painted, better than I could draw. The escapades of an Ann or a Barry if the book was Irish, or a Tom or Harry if they were English, telling the reader, still reading slow in big print of the bounty living in ecosystems out there where mum or dad might drive you if you’re good.   Though it was only a harbour in Dún Laoghaire, but still here where the pier sloped lay pools of warm water, held up to inspection in rocky palms, living with strands of electric green seaweed deathless in air, but filled foliage in the glassy water there, and held tight to the water lips...