Tag Archives: Copenhagen

Narrator – on the way


During my first wintering in South Spain I didn’t need much. My camping equipment was sufficient for my stay at a winter camping in Malaga near the Mediterranean Sea. In the spring I woke up from my winter stay. First I hiked to Granada and then to Cordoba.

In Moorish times around 1000 AD, Cordoba was one of the largest cities in the world with at least half a million inhabitants. At that time Cordoba had the largest library in the world with over 400,000 books and in addition the Mezquita (Mosque) was built with more than 1000 marble columns. In the Catholic times the middle part of the mosque with associated columns was removed to make room for a Cathedral [1].

Mezquita[2]

In the Cordoba mosque with the Cathedral inside, I thought of a Buddhist question from the book received as farewell gift from my late American beloved:

 “The ancient  Buddha’s are merged with the open pillars – what level of activity is this?” When everyone remained speechless, the master himself said for them: “On the South Mountain rising clouds, on the North Mountain falling rain”. [3]

Upon my departure from Copenhagen I left the book behind in the University Library, because this collection of questions did not fit in my backpack. Before I handed the book to the librarian, I read the Buddhist question:

 “When the fire at the end of time rages through and everything is destroyed, is this destroyed or not?”  One master answered: “Destroyed, because it goes along with this”. Another master answered: “Not destroyed, because it is the same as this”. [4]

Apocalypse[5]

During my first wintering in South Spain, I retired. After my life as idol in Amsterdam and my years with my beloved in Sweden and Norway, I had received my income from playing in jazz ensembles and due to my limited share in the work of Raven. In Cordoba my savings were depleted. I had fled from the world of secret services after my safety net was gone with the death of Raven, and in Southern Spain there were no jazz ensembles that were waiting for a percussionist without congas.

A part of my income I got by magic and with telling of stories. The other part of my earnings came from alms. Quite young I was depending on a simple form of pension through a pay-as-you-go system that was in use for many centuries in several parts of Asia. When the role of men or women in a household was finished, they moved to another area where the local people provided them with food during their daily round for alms. The rest of the day they spent on the spiritual life of themselves or the whole universe. The men were called Bhikṣu and the women Bhikṣuṇī; the vulgar Dutch word “bikkesement” for “food” is probably related to this way of begging [6].

Bhikshu[7]

In addition to my night watch for the spirits of the deceased villagers, I started a day watch for the whole universe after my first wintering in South Spain. I began walking in the footsteps of my late American beloved. In the libraries of the large cities in Europe I studied the Holy Scriptures. For access to several books on South Asia, I visited the University Library in Heidelberg.

Heidelberg[8]

In Heidelberg, Raven had studied Philosophy and Linguistics before World War II. In this city I felt the nearness of this beloved who did penance for his actions constantly and who was always on guard for the unveiling of his loyalty and betrayal.

Raaf[9]

After my visit to Heidelberg, I held my nightly and daily vigils for him too.


[1] Sources: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C%C3%B3rdoba,_Andalusia and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Mosque_of_C%C3%B3rdoba

[2] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mosque%E2%80%93Cathedral_of_C%C3%B3rdoba

[3] See the koan “Yunmen’s Pillars” in: Cleary, Thomas, Book of Serenity – One Hundred Zen Dialogues. Bosten: Shambhala, 1998 p. 137 – 139

[4] Free rendering of the koan Dasui’s “Aeonic Fire” in: Cleary, Thomas, Book of Serenity – One Hundred Zen Dialogues. Bosten: Shambhala, 1998 p. 131 – 136

[5] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apocalypse

[6] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhikkhu

[7] Source image: http://jv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhiksu

[8] Source image: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universit%C3%A4tsbibliothek_Heidelberg

[9] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Raven

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Narrator – A man without a life


Two weeks later I received a letter via post restante in which the successor and nephew of Raven wrote that he wished to see me urgently. I was just about to return to Copenhagen to overwinter there. A day later, I met the cousin of Raven around 11 a.m. near Café Central [1] in the Herrengasse [2] in Vienna.

Cafe central[3]

He looked tired and worried. After polite greetings and ordering a Viennese coffee speciality with pastries, he told me his concerns. A week ago Raven died in an unnatural way. This news shocked me: I condoled him with the loss of his distant uncle. Then he said that the cause of death – murder or suicide – had to be sorted out as soon as possible; the autopsy did not give an univocal result. Our lives could depend on the outcome of this investigation; in case of murder we would have to take into account imminent danger, because the investigation into the past of Raven could have issued  light on cases that, according to some, could not bear the light of day. The successor of Raven had only several suspicions.

Raven’s cousin asked if I could bring him again in touch with Fox for further information about the past. Unfortunately the last time I had seen Fox was near Stephansdom. We speculated for a brief moment if Fox might be involved in the death cause of Raven. I gave two reasons why this was unlikely: Raven was the father of the daughter of Fox, and Raven and Fox had rearranged their past by a comprehensive inventory of the archives of the East German secret service. After an explanation of the way of this inventory, the nephew of Raven was more of less convinced that Fox had no part in the death of Raven.

During our discussion I suggested that Raven – with his many dark pages – had already lived on credit for a long time. The cousin told that due to his continuing successes, Raven had led the service for an additional generation; possibly he could not step down because of the need to continue the concealment of unpleasant activities by continued success. With this, I had to agree: Raven did penance for his actions constantly and he was always on guard for the unveiling of his loyalty and betrayal; maybe his unnatural death was murder and suicide at the same time.

The successor of Raven nodded dubiously after my speculation. In the ordinary world this explanation would suffice, but in the mirror palace inhabited by secret services of many countries the view changed with every move. His life was in danger and probably also my life was in danger. The nephew of Raven discussed several issues about Raven with me.

speigelhal[4]

At the beginning of that evening I took unobtrusively the international train from Vienna to Munich. From there, I travelled to Hamburg, where I continued my journey to Copenhagen from a different railway station.

In Copenhagen I destroyed my British passports that I had received via Raven for unobtrusive travel through Europe. With pain in my heart I terminated the rent of my attic room in the Klosterstræde in the center of Copenhagen; herewith I said symbolically farewell to my two beloved who had died in a short time. I sold my bikes and a week later I hitch-hiked to Malaga in southern Spain to spend the winter in a warmer environment. I changed my appearance and clothing so that I would be less noticed with my dark skin in Malaga and surroundings.

Five years ago I had tried to end my life as an idol by my departure from Amsterdam to Stockholm and later my flight to Copenhagen. With my departure from Copenhagen my second incarnation – as magnet and idol for my surrounding – came finally to an end.

In the beginning of the next spring I hitch-hiked to Granada. There I admired the Alhambra with gardens that reflected the tales from thousand and one night.

alhambra[5]

The life of my first incarnation as Kṛṣṇa in Kenya and my second incarnation as idol in Northern Europe had left its furrows behind in my skin. When I talked, laughed, or looked concerned, these actions left behind there folds in my skin. A flight from my life – that had taken shape in my body – was no longer possible. The ceiling in the Hall of the Abencerrajes showed my for country.

Plafond alhambra[6]

After my visit to the Alhambra I let my beard grow.


[1] See also: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caf%C3%A9_Central

[2] “Gasse” originates from the Old High German word “Gazza” meaning “lane”, “alley”. See also: http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Gasse

Probably “Gasse” is connected with the names of many streets in the Baltic countries that end in “Gatan”, “Gade” or “Gate”. In Sanskrit, the word “gate” is not only a conjugation of the verb with the meaning “going”, but it is also the “locative or place-conjugation” of a noun derived from the verb “to go”.

[3] Source image: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wiener_Kaffeehaus

[4] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_mirrors

[5] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alhambra

[6] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alhambra

Narrator – A man without a face


Note: this post is a study on trust and betrayal; the people and situations in this post are fictitious [1].

On November 9, 1989 my main contribution to the work of Raven began at 8 pm in the evening. We were in West Germany near Bonn. On the eight hours of news, an item was announced regarding the spokesman for the East German Government who replied to a question by journalists when free travel for East German inhabitants would be possible, after some hesitation with: “Right now”.

Berlijn 1989[2]

This was the signal for Raven to book our flights to West Berlin. That evening we practised my new role for several weeks. Due to my years with my beloved in Sweden and Norway, I could flawlessly speak American with an East Coast accent from the vicinity of Washington.

The next morning Raven in the role of high employee of a German Ministry of Justice and I as high American officer travelled to West Berlin. It was my first time in an airplane. During the flight I looked in amazement at the apparent landscape that was formed by the clouds. This rarefied world reminded me of the fjords in Norway and of the ever repeating clouds during the day trip with my American beloved across the Hardangervidda [3] . Did we live together now in this dream landscape?

Wolken van boven[4]

Upon arriving at the airport Tempelhof in Berlin we moved to the Kaufhaus des Westens to buy  additional clothes for our work in East Berlin.

That night Raven and I crossed the just opened border post to East Berlin together with East Germans who returned home after visiting West Berlin for the first time after more than 28 years. We took two rooms in a hotel near Unter den Linden.

The next morning we visited the headquarters of the East German secret service in Lichtenberg area. Upon arrival we introduced ourselves as representatives of German and U.S. Government agencies who wished to ensure that the archives were not handed over to wrong persons. We were welcomed by three heads of units who were in charge of the service after the resignation of the political leader a few days before. One of the heads of unit looked exactly like the sailor from Rostock that Raven had met some years earlier in Nyhavn in Copenhagen. I understood that this head of unit was Fox.

Vos[5]

After a morning of meeting it was decided that we were allowed to make an inventory of the archives under the supervision of the heads of unit. Raven and Fox would carry out the detailed inventory, and another head and I would supervise as second party. The office of the previous political leader was given to me as temporary workspace.

That afternoon the general overview of the archives in the main building and the outbuildings was made. The next four weeks Raven and Fox prepared the detailed inventory. I suggested a lot of awkward and painful questions about the regional archives: during these weeks I studied the answers.

At the end of the investigation, a fivefold reports was made; one report for each head of unit and a report for Raven and for me. Everything was ready well before Christmas. During the period of Christmas shopping, Raven and I left West Berlin under different names by plane toward Frankfurt.

Later, I suspected that Raven and Fox had adapted the archives as much as possible to their advantage – the pages that could not bear the light were gone or replaced by innocent documents. Fox and Raven had prepared this operation very well.

When in January 1990 the people of Berlin invaded the building of this service, the archives about Raven and Fox were in full order thanks to their loyal cooperation within the limits of the law. During later investigation no one could find any irregularities in their actions during the Cold War.

Berlijn 1990[6]

A year later I met Fox another times in Vienna.


[1] Although the title of this blog corresponds to: Wolf, Markus, Man without a Face – The Autobiography of Communism’s greatest Spymaster. New York: Random House, 1997, there is no link at all between the author – and the content  – of this autobiography and Raven, Fox and the Narrator and their fictional activities. The writer of this blog has no indication and/or knowledge of adjusting, cleaning up and obscuring information from East German archives.

[2] Source image: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berliner_Mauer

[3] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hardangervidda

[4] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloud

[5] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_fox

[6] Source image: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ministerium_f%C3%BCr_Staatssicherheit

Narrator – A man without qualities


Note: this post is a study in loyalty and betrayal; the persons and situations in this post are fictitious.

On a rainy afternoon during the second winter in Copenhagen, I met a man who would change the next five years in my life. I only learned the birth name of this man after his death; in my presence he called himself Raven. Suddenly he stood silently beside me. After he had introduced himself, we had diner in a small restaurant near Nyhavn. That night we spent together and that night he slept in my attic room. In the course of the next five years, I have met him with intervals in many places in Europe; usually he stayed an evening and a night, sometimes we were a few days together.

During these years he told me about his past; he was taciturn about his work, but I understood that his profession had to do with trust and betrayal in all shapes and gradations. His work consisted of unnoticingly retrieving confidential information in other countries, and of the dissemination of altered or misleading information. Like me, Raven spoke many languages and dialects fluently and without an accent; also in this way he adapted himself as a chameleon to his environment. He regularly changed name and passport.

Rush Hour by[1]

From our conversations I understood that Raven was born in London near the end of the First World War. Several years before the Second World War he moved first to Heidelberg and later to Munich for his study philosophy and linguistics in Germany. There he met two friends for life – he called them Fox and Bear.

Fox was a fellow student who had grown up in the Rhineland and Bear was the father of their girlfriend. In all circumstances they remained faithful to each other and thus they had betrayed everything and everyone in their environment.

At the beginning of the Second World War Fox and Raven retrieved strategic information in Germany for Russia and England. Bear was a high officer in the German army who prevented Fox and Raven for their doom, because Bear despised the new regime in Germany with all his being, and because he loved his daughter dearly. During the Second World War Raven went off to England several times and he returned in France, Belgium, Netherlands and Germany to disseminate misleading information and to retrieve new secret information with the help of acquaintances and relatives. Hereby he had deliberately endangered the lives of his relatives; some of his family had not survived the war.

At the end of the Second World War Bear was made prisoner by the English. With help of his contacts in England Raven had assured that Bear could soon start soon a new life as a businessman in Germany.

After the war, Fox – with his preference for socialism and communism – decided to start working for the secret service in East Germany; he received a key position within this service.

Raven – with a tendency towards tradition – returned in June 1945 to England to work for a British secret service. First he said goodbye for good to his girlfriend – the daughter of Bear. She married Fox one month later. In February of the next year, a daughter was born from this marriage who looked like Raven, but she had the character of her mother.

Throughout the Cold War – invisible to the outside world – Raven was head of the Eastern European operations. Also in this position, he had endangered the lives of colleagues, friends, acquaintances and relatives; a number of his family did not survive their missions in Eastern Europe.

Berlin_tanks[2]

The emptiness caused by the death and absence of so many loved ones remained anywhere and any time in his life. With this fathomless emptiness and with his constant fear of discovery he did penance for his actions and for the betrayal of everyone and everything in his environment.

The following afternoon, he met an older sailor from Rostock in a bar in the Nyhavn. Later I understood that this sailor was his study friend Fox. Raven asked me to distract the attention from his entry in the bar.

Nyhavn_copenhagen1[3]

This was the beginning of my small contributions to the work of Raven in the area of loyalty and betrayal that lasted until his death five years later. After his death, a distant cousin who had succeeded him in the work for a secret service, asked me for information; within this investigation I was involved in a meeting with Fox.

For Raven, I looked for meeting places and places to sleep that changed sometimes for unclear reasons. I distracted attention when Raven wanted to meet someone unobtrusively, because with my black/blue colour and my exuberant appearance I stood out anywhere. And I served as a beacon to see if a location was observed by opponents.

Smiley[4]

Was Raven also faithful to me? The answer is: as far as he could be within his activities. Looking back, I would never have wanted to miss the friendship and relationship with Raven, and I have had no regrets of my small share in the work of Raven.


[1] Source image: http://otravida.wordpress.com/2010/03/26/march-26th-rush-hour-by-george-segal/ ; a photo of the sculptors “Rush Hour” made by George Segal. See also: Histoire de la Vie privée. Tome 5: De la première Guerre mondiale à nos jours. Red. Ariès, Philippe et al., p. 8

[2] Tanks at Checkpoint Charlie on October 27 during the Berlin Crisis in 1961. Bron afbeelding: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cold_War

[3] Source image: http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyhavn

[4] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Smiley

Narrator – A Nordic Cycle, A year from a biography


If you want to avoid misery, rely on your own lot.

Narrator-Nordic1

As free E-Book available via the website of the publisher:

www.omnia-amsterdam.com/document/narrator-nordic-cycle-year-biography-e-book

Carla Drift, Narrator Nārāyana and Man Leben are the three main characters on this part of the Odyssey “Who are you – A survey into our existence”.

“A Nordic Cycle” is one year from the biography on the life of Narrator so far. In this year Narrator fled his existence as idol in Amsterdam by living with his beloved in. Together they made a trip to the North Cape in midsummer; they returned via the Norwegian fjords, the Hardangervidda, and Oslo. There they heared that acquaintances and friends in Amsterdam suffered from a mysterious disease; the beloved of Narrator receives a letter with the news that his mother was seriously ill. The following spring Narrator’s beloved returned to America and Narrator decided to live in Copenhagen. At the end of the spring he visited Amsterdam to attend the funeral of a former lover who is deceased by AIDS.

The Odyssey to “Who are you – survey into our existence” is an quest with many stages. The search for “Who are you” is about you and me and all that is in connection with us. Nothing is on beforehand excluded. Are you and I connected or are we separated? What makes you to the person who you are? Who are you before your birth and who will you be after your death? The answer to these questions is currently unknown, but nevertheless we raise these questions.

The progress of this quest to “Who are you” can be read on the weblog of Jan van Origo: www.janvanorigo.com

The following two part of “Who are you” will include the chapters 5, 7 and 0 of this quest.

This work is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Photos, images, renderings and quotations in the text may be copyrighted by third parties.

Printing of this Ebook is allowed for your own use or for educational purposes. Readers and users of publications by Omnia – Amsterdam Publisher may show their gratefulness by donations to charities of their choice.

Narrator – a new year


Around Easter the winter of that year was gone. The sun emerged and nature flourished again. Next to my city bike I had bought a touring bike by which I made several bike tours on the islands Amager and Sjælland whereupon the city of Copenhagen is located. In a few months I learned not only to cycle well, but I started to love this form of gliding over the roads in weather and wind.

Reiserad-beladen[1]

Near the end of spring I received again disturbing letters from former lovers in Amsterdam; they were also seriously ill with AIDS. I decided to travel to Amsterdam with my touring within a week. After a preparation of a small week, I departed to Amsterdam for a few months with a packed bike. My attic room I had temporary sublet to a friend.

Eventually I did two weeks about the trip, because I had almost always headwind. On the long straights, the turning of the pedals changed in turning of the prayer wheels in my experience, sometimes difficult, sometimes without effort.

Gebedsmolens[2]

On my way to Amsterdam I had the Buddhist question of the “iron ox” [3] in my mind. Some of my ancestors travelled on horseback. In Africa I had noticed people travelling on an ox. Now I was a rider on an iron steed instead of on horseback.

Man op os[4]

I missed the conversations on this question with my beloved who already lived in America at that time. My clue was the verse on the question:

“The works of an iron ox –

When the seal (of enlightenment [5] and of an idol) remains, the impression is ruined”. [6]

Cycling through northern Germany and the Netherlands my bike slowly took the shape of the “iron ox” in the Buddhist question. Sometimes nicely gliding, sometimes toiling during headwind, my iron ox did its work; we glided steadily with the road and the environment through the universe.

On the road I could usually stay with people during the night in exchange for stories or for some help on the farm. At resting place I tried to earn some money with magic, because during my bicycle trip I had no income from playing percussion with jazz ensembles. After some practice I could earn a national currency at each stop with two magic rope shows – which I had learned from a friend in Copenhagen; in Germany a D-mark and in a Netherlands guilder. During the first presentation a rope slid through my neck. A demonstration of this performance can be seen on the following video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=aSMZJ0w3DyM

During the second presentation, the rope glided unexpectedly through a ring. An example of this representation is shown on the following video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xx7UjeZYn4

When I performed both performances every day at five resting places, I earned enough money for daily meals for myself and another traveller with whom I shared the meal.

That summer and autumn in Amsterdam, I lived with and cared for old friends and former lovers with AIDS. In addition, I enjoyed the Dutch beaches and the beautiful clouds in Netherlands.

At the end of the autumn I cycled to Copenhagen with the wind in my back. The winter I spent in my attic room with the long nights in which the moon, the stars and the ghosts kept me company. I stuck to this rhythm of “heading to the south during summers” and “winters staying in Copenhagen” for several years; in later life I spent the winter in the south and passed the summer in the north.

Was this wintering on my attic room a penance for crimes committed as child soldier in a militia? Maybe, a year later I met a man who did penance for his deeds constantly.


[1] Source image: http://da.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cykeltyper . This photo is made in 2005 showing a cycle of a later date.

[2] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prayer_wheel

[3] See: Cleary, Thomas, Book of Serenity – One Hundred Zen Dialogues. Bosten: Shambhala, 1998 p. 125 – 130.

[4] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Os_(rund). The oxen in Africa were not so well fed.

[5] According to Mahāyāna Buddhism, human enlightenment spreads a smell of vanity. Enlightenment only exists when all en everyone is enlightened.

[6] The first two lines of vers in the koan Fengxue’s “Iron Ox”. See: Cleary, Thomas, Book of Serenity – One Hundred Zen Dialogues. Bosten: Shambhala, 1998 p. 125 – 130.

Narrator – A cold winter


At the beginning of the winter, I came back to my attic room in Copenhagen. I mourned for the loss and the death of two former lovers from Amsterdam who had died from AIDS. A few days after my return I was ill with a cold. I had fever, I sweated at night in bed, I had a headache, my breathing was difficult and I felt exhausted. In the library I had read the beginning symptoms of AIDS – I was afraid that I was also infected by the virus. After a few weeks the cold was gone, but my concern for infection with the disease remained.

My attic room was not properly heated. That winter I was only in my room at night; I slept under a thick duvet at the open window when the weather allowed. In bad weather with the window closed, I felt trapped in my room; my nightly fearful visions could find no way out. During daytime I was rarely home; usually I was at friends, I read in the library or I played in a jazz band.

Zolderkamer[1]

In this attic room I slowly detached myself from the three embarrassments [2] , which I read in the book with Buddhist questions that I had received as farewell gift by my previous beloved.

The first embarrassments wherefrom I had detached myself at the end of my youth, was an own home. As a child I had moved around with my mother and her herd; our home was the place where we had stayed temporarily. In my time as child soldier, the militia was my temporal home. After my flight from the militia, I continued to wander with temporary resting places. During my stay in Copenhagen my house became more and more transparent coinciding with the human world during daytime and with the universe during night-time when the window of my attic room was open. Once I hoped to arrive home, maybe at the end of the Odyssey to “Who are you”.

800px-Glass_House_2006[3]

The second embarrassments that I gave up gradually, was an own body, because due to aging my appearance as exotic idol eroded and because due to the threat of infection with HIV I saw the individuality of my body in a different light. In Copenhagen my body became more and more connected with the city, the world and, of course, the universe.

Anterior_view_of_human_female_and_male,_with_labels[4]

The third embarrassment that disappeared gradually, was an own life. After reading and studying in libraries in the neighbourhood of my attic room, I became increasingly connected with all the knowledge in the world. Also I read in a book the questions: “Where is a Buffalo when it is eaten by a lion” and “How does a lion change after eating Buffalo?”.

Male_Lion_and_Cub_Chitwa_South_Africa_Luca_Galuzzi_2004[5]

Together with my body, my life became gradually connected to the world and the universe. At that time I read in a novel by Hermann Hesse: “Deine Seele ist die ganze Welt” [6] – or in English: “Your soul is the whole world“. In the dark at the open window in my attic room, my life became interconnected with the whole space.

The legacy that my beloved had left behind for me, depleted. I had no money left to maintain the white Citroën DS; it was time to give this Goddess another destination. With a part of the selling price, I bought a bike. After some practice I could move around with the inhabitants floating on the roads through the city.

800px-Cyclists_at_red_Kopenhagen[7]

The next spring I made several long bike tours through Europe.


[1] Source image://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comble_(architecture)

[2] Source: Cleary, Thomas, Book of Serenity – One Hundred Zen Dialogues. Bosten: Shambhala, 1998 p. 120 – 124. The “three embarrassments” are freely rendered in this post.

[3] “The Glass House or Johnson house, built in 1949 in New Canaan, Connecticut – USA, was designed by Philip Johnson as his own residence”. Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glass_House

[4] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_anatomy

[5] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life

[6] See: Hesse Hermann, Siddhartha. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag: 1989 p. 10.

[7] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cycling_in_Copenhagen. This photo was made around 2010.