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I telephon with Dahlia and we meet in Berlin. I'll pick her up in the car. She had moved shortly before our meeting, so I'm waiting in front of the wrong house number. When she comes towards me, packed with her amplifier, I take it from her and we drive to the studio. She grooves herself musically with her guitar and sings me a nice song. Self-written, very melodic. Then it goes to the room with the leg loops and later to the blackboard. “Yes, Ms. Teacher!” Later I can also be a dog.
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