Snow White has got a fish




Slowly and fast moving through the winter. Why does it seem endless like always? Why doesn’t summer? Is it because winter hurts? For sure it is about me. It must be about me. Somewhere out there are people who are having the best days. Maybe the time of their life. Just because of the winter.

I had a dream about my grandma. She gave me a goldfish as a present. I never had a fish before. I kind of like the idea.

Back to the cold. It is still winter.

Morgen

Nach einer unruhigen Nacht voller dunkler Spitzen eines Lebens, das ich nicht verstehe, ist es der Morgen, der mich ruhig werden lässt. Innerlich aufgewühlt ist es der Streifen am Horizont, der mir im Chaos eine Linie gibt. 

Siehst du nicht, was hinter den Wolken kommt? 

Während ich ob der Banalität noch grüble, ob ich eine solche Banalität annehmen kann, finde ich die Situation in kürzester Zeit verändert vor. Ich habe die Fäden nicht in der Hand. Doch solang der Wind weht, kann ich auf seinen Wellen reiten. Solange das Meer schweigt, kann ich noch schlafen. Und im Sonnenlicht kann ich sein, wer ich bin.

Ich bin hier im Urlaub auf Helgoland. Urlaub ist das Gefühl trotz weichem Hotelbett und schnarchenden Horden im  Nebenzimmer zu frühester Stunde gut gelaunt den Tag zu beginnen. 

Bilder folgen, hier der Vorgeschmack dieses Morgens auf dem Balkon.


Could I get less?

Now I am watching the moon getting bigger again. He is watching through the clouds, cold and shiny. Being weird and trustworthy at the same time. My heart is quiet and confident. These days I was walking in the park and when I saw a beautiful tree I stopped and thought: “Oh, what a beautiful tree!” Another of these sunny days I had my dinner next to the river Weser in Vegesack. Starring at the water and the mild september evening, I thought happily: “What a nice evening!” Nothing more. Nothing less.

Is it the weather? Or is it me growing old? Emptiness can be a pleasure!

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Ein Baum

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Ein Fluss

Those Happy Faces

At the end of the day comes the night and I am alone in my room. Where can I find them, the happy faces? When all of the day there was nothing but indifference. Nothing else matters you sang. But there was nothing before that mattered anyway. And once again I couldn’t find the peace in me. The piece in me that makes a difference. This day, all day. This tiny heart is shouting:

I cannot live, I cannot die, I’m desperate for a smile.

Now, before the sleep takes over, I take the time to find- some happy faces.

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Mann, bist du emotional

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Far from victory

Da stehst du vor mir und fuchtelst mit den Händen. Willst gesehen werden. Jetzt. Sofort.

Du bist nicht zu übersehen. Wenn du lachst, nimmst du den Raum ein. Wenn du weinst, gibt keiner einen Laut von sich. Alle sehen betreten zur Seite.

Was hat er denn jetzt schon wieder, fragt ein Kollege genervt.

Keine Ahnung, sage ich seufzend. Dabei kennen wir die Antwort.

Aufmerksamkeit heißt sie.

Und die holst du dir. Egal wie! Ob mit klimpernder Gitarre oder poetischen Worten, kullernden Tränen oder geballten Fäusten. Ob mit erschlagender Präsenz oder lärmender Abwesenheit.

Deine Emotionen sind manchen befremdlich. Mir befremdlich nah.

 

 

 

 

The Game – Thoughts about Inconsistence

Yesterday started the german “Bundesliga”. Although I’m convinced that it is a chauvinistic capitalist happening and it reminds me of the old roman “Bread and circuses” (or bread and games; Latin: panem et circenses), I kind of like it.
Damn. I’m not free at all. 😀

Here a sketch I drew the other day. To show you that at least there could be some magic in soccer, for example when it’s on the beach. Although this argument fails. Because:

Everything’s better on the beach.

On the beach it's happier

On the beach it’s happier

De Viaje – Crossing Castilla

Driving through Castilla you can see fields, hills, plains, cats and the sky. Or highways.

You can discover nice and weird things. Or trash.

You can see the endlessness of the world. Or imagine a circle.

You can see nothing. Or everything.

Yes, I do like the sky and open landscapes very much! 😉

Doing MORE these ordinary days in Bremen

As I’m working just like a  ̶n̶̶o̶̶r̶̶m̶̶a̶̶l̶  person, I always have the feeling, I should do and be more. More work in less time, more beautiful and less ugly, more money for a living, more creative things instead of  monotonous texting, more good than bad, more right in the wrong.

But what do I really mean by that? What is this more?

The essence of more is, that it is unreachable. It seems so near but is so far. More is a dream of another world, of a better life. On the other side. Where the grass is greener. But, honestly, could the grass be greener than today?

I will get back to work now, get things done. Later go outside. Run and breathe. Be happy. And try to do a little, little more.