7:00 on a beautiful morning, the telephone rings
‘Listen, Herold, listen…’ — am I in a good mood?
And goes on, and goes on
7:35 a.m. ‘Listen, Herold, listen…’
7:45 a.m. ‘Listen, Herold, listen…’
I smoke 40 cigarettes or more. There’s smoke coming out of my head.
21:00 a.m. night coming on I lean back, it’s over, the day, nothing has been done nothing, the picture covered in little notes. I look at my work.
‘Listen, Herold, listen…’

Georg Herold