[ as gregor samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. he was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his dome-like brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. his numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.
[ … ]
oh god, he thought, what an exhausting job i’ve picked on! ]
humidity was at lower levels this time in leuven, so i had time enough to set my camera properly and make some pictures around the city. wandering between ladeuze- and hooverplein, just a few minutes after merchants had put their various stuff away, i noticed gregor samsa was almost floating above my head… yes. the kafkian hero i mean. the one who woke up to realise what alienation (s. verfremdung) may mean, considering his position in society -esp. focussing within the family micro-society, after he has inexplicably been transformed into a gigantic insect. <what a shame!…> one might think.
the flamings, however, instead of hiding the awfully embarassing transformed gregor samsa, expose him in front of their beautiful library building, just right in the middle of a public space. < is he dead up there? > i am wondering. please, do not let gregor samsa die this time and do accept him, in contrast to the kafkian family. please help him turn on the proper side, stand on his feet and walk again. touch him and speak to him. bring him closer to you and be friends.
on the other hand, this is also a point of view. leave gregor samsa alone up there, so that every time we turn our eyes up to the beauty of the skies, we see the hardest face of human distancing, the ugliest face of our own anti-humanism.
keep well, gregor samsa. see you soon. up and away.