One of the concise views one can have of Berlin these days is from the top of the Devil’s Mountain (Teufelsberg), the artificial hill that consists of rubble from the ruins of World War II.
The conciseness decreases when stepping back, inside the structures on top of the former US listening station from the Cold War.
So we enter a place of fascinating decay and devastation that has become in its entirety a canvas.
The ruin as a design pattern for our self seems an aporia, but not so: as in many paradoxa, there is synthesis.
Descending further we witness that light and dark not only coexist, they require each other,
and they require a canvas.