In her latest book, Elisabeth Brockmann plays contrapuntally with words and images. On the one hand, she writes about the art scene, her travels, diving, but also about the death of her father. Everything is so mercilessly precise that the experiences 'shimmer' unreal. "The painter and photographer's keen powers of observation also characterize her narrative," according to the Frankfurter Rundschau.

Philosopher Bernhard Waldenfels writes about the second theme of the book, dreams, which are 'vodka for the soul': "Brockmann's dreams are full of scenic color, of the uncanny, of black humor, and you can tell that she remains an artist when she dreams, and conversely, you can see the degree of artistic potential that dreams can contain."

In addition to the written word, 22 color illustrations of 'lascivious visages that lend a face to the activities' light up the pages of the book.