Perhaps the buddebook can be understood as a 360-page self-portrait, as a multi-pictorial image of the artist Nine Budde's life collaged with scraps of text. Rather, it is also a look at what could be called society in the broadest sense, i.e. at our relationships with each other, our desires, sexuality, our dreams and nightmares, and this look always undermines itself, is radical, subversive and fearless. And that's why the book is about art, what we define as art, why and how, and why not. And then it is. Surrealism, Dada, Fluxus, Holzinger or Schlingensief come to mind, but it's better to leave it at that, as traditions and categorizations don't belong in the Budde system, and if they do, then only to break them down again. Malevich meets Susan Sonntag meets Kathy Acker meets Jack Kerouac ... and they all walk through the forest together.
