My childhood stretches back into a time when a gray, moist dishrag hung above heads instead of the sky and people were bereft of names; they were simply numbered. Yes, that's right, you got it: Soviet times. Toys were made of cast iron then, and the children weak from vitamin-deficient food could barely manage to move them. Though luckily there were communal rooms where children were kept, so small that not more than one toy at a time could fit in with a child.
Asko Künnap is a designer, poet and creative director at an advertising agency. He additionally busies himself with publishing and graphic design, poetry translations, designing covers for books and records, inventing and illustrating board games and also – from time to time – practicing ordinary gray magic.
"I don't watch TV, I don't read tabloids or online commentary. And I avoid vacuous people when at all possible. It's an art that takes practice. Vacuous people do not become emptier as a result of this, while I am able to fill my days with something more substantial than bickering with salesmen, real estate agents and drones. Thinking, for example."