The house opens up more and more. The living room becomes a bedroom. Moritz, from Hanover, arrived in the morning, red-eyed and empty of sleep. We nap in adjacent rooms in a new manner of small talk.
Walking around Harpa he releases more information about himself; his musical preferences, as German as I could imagine. Techno is about the feeling. We hosted a little party but Moritz dropped dead again as he was still catching up with Europe.
He loves cities. In Europe we don't have cities like in North America. He flew from Montreal to Toronto to Windsor to Detroit - Oh! Detroit, he lists excitedly, New York, Washington, little cheap bus to Baltimore- it's super cool there - and to Miami, a change of pace but quickly back, back north! Back to Washington! Then - Reykjavik?! Not on the same scale. But a nicer scale, perhaps dorian. A lot of things we saw reminded him of the States.
He loves languages and looked at Icelandic like it was a porn magazine. What's þis? And what about ðat? And Ðhen þæres - oh, got my tongue lost down the throat.
And his jazz band went to China to play some shows, and currently they were having some disagreements, but it's all about the music really.
And Hannover has the best zoo. And this is the castle, we never really go there. And this is the windmill, I live near there. And at night we go here.
I said goodbye over some whale nigiri - that I had made and he had eaten - it was an Icelandic goodbye.