MexicAN CIRCUS

The monotony of my childhood summers seem to never end: sitting on the balustrade of our balcony looking into the distance dangling my feet five stories high in the air, the smell of fresh cut gras, sitting on a cherry tree eating cherries every Wednesday afternoon when school was out. Waiting for the weather to get warm enough to go swimming, which rarely happened in Switzerland. Nevetheless the end of the endless Summer announced itself when the farmer cut the field behind our 50’s apartment building. It signaled that the most exiting event of the year was about to arrive: the circus. The animals made loud noises in the night, the caravans where the circus people lived beckoned to far away places. The children knew how to dangle on a trapeze and show off their acrobatics. I so wished I could join them. Then, one year the circus stopped coming. The cut gras laid barren. — until one day in Mexico I found the circus again. Here is my project and homage to the circus I have always loved.