Friday, July 22, 2016

sky / mail

Today in the mail: a message from a friend, with this sky snapshot from Ibiza. Such a good vibe. It made me think of island days, and when I browsed my own photo files, I arrived here:


And to accompany the sky, this starting lines of the poem I came across yesterday while looking for something else:

John O’Donohue
A Blessing for One who is Exhausted.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through. 
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free...


more skies from everywhere: skywatch friday

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Landscapes 2016

Photo Friday's theme for the week is "Landscape 2016". Such a good impulse to revisit the photo files of this year so far and do a bit of a summer reflection. The snowy moment is from a January drive.

And this one is from a new place: While at the Leipzig bookfair this year, I had some extra time and so drove a bit northwards - just some miles beyond the city, there is a lake area. I found a parking spot, gave it a try, and arrived at a beautiful lakeside walk. So good, this additional view and contrast to the humming fair halls.

And a simple but complex view: spring. seen from the clinic complex. The clinic, I don't have medical appointments there any more, but it's the place where the art sessions take place - so it now turned into a place to which I regular go. On that day, the dandelions were in full bloom, their seeds blowing in the wind, like tiny messengers of life and fate.

more to come...

and more landscapes, at photo friday

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

10 a.m. shadow memory

10 a.m. and while waiting,
gazing at the shadow on the floor

this moon memory of last night surfaced:
turning a bend on a late walk
and after talking about it a day again
actually: seeing the glow of a firefly.

To find: no, it's not a firefly,
it's a drop of the light of the full moon,
falling through a tree.

#moment #whilewaiting


Friday, July 15, 2016

today + je suis

today: friday. this doorstep to the weekend.
today: this horrible news from France.
today: reading the newslines several times until actually understanding what had happened. the brutality of it.
today: thinking of that summer when we were there, in Nizza. thinking about this world.
today: work and mails. the safety zone of normality.
today: stopping on the way, to go for a walk, at the river that accompanied me since I was a child
today: taking a photo there, for skywatch friday
today: the beauty of the world, and the cruelty of it.
today: je suis paris orlando bruxelles istanbul nice baghdad bangladesh.
today: how to end the hatred and pain?

and an afterthought: The speed of bad news this day is just overwhelming. It feels like there is no time to really process what is happening, like the world and its news is overtaking it self, and a lot of the “news” is basically speculation, as no one really knows backgrounds so quickly. Yet mostly: such sad days. So many victims. And more tragic news: there was a sunk refugee ship, and they now brought the bodies to the shore, to bury them. It was 700 people. It’s both beyond our normal imagination. And at the same time, it is our world these days. I think I will take a bit of a news pause at the weekend, just checking in briefly in the morning and in the evening.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Mount Ventoux / Mountain Windy (festival of words #5)

Mount Ventoux: an unique single mountain near Avignon. The road to the summit leads through vineyards, then through a large forest, and then finally, through a sand desert. "Vent" is french for wind - and windy it is, this mountain, creating an own cloud dynamic.

Ventoux, it is today's stop of the Tour de France. I just watched the cyclist on their way up, and memories from driving up that road rolled with it.

And following the wind theme, here a stanza that I wrote for the collaborate wind poem "I Hear the Wind Waiting" (organized by Leaf Press)

37 poets joined in this poem. my stanza is:

Strong wind from the south: I put on my jacket, step into the garden 
To fasten the roses, yet stand and listen to the hum of the sky


Festival of Words
Mount Ventoux - Tour de France 2016

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

The things we learned so far (Festival of words, day 4)

Today... revisiting a poem I wrote in April, during National Poetry Month, inspired by a Found Poetry Prompt Generator. I changed it slightly now for the Festival of Words. Here's the original version: Angelfish & Borrowing.


The Things We Learned So Far 

It was about that time a week ago when it happened:
A long distance call in the evening
From a stranger who asked about the
Experience of being human,
The things we learned so far,
not from borrowed catalogues of knowledge
but from real day-by-day life

I went and tackled the questions, tried
To analyze, to think quickly.
Yes, of course, I said. The daily life, it is
A flame in our hands, the hourly glow of everything, the
troubles of the human condition, all our new dreams and worries,
methods and hopes, highways and lost places.
Just consider the care it takes to get
Proper strength, the ends through which all is connecting,
The gamble of living wortwhile.

In that manner I kept talking until the party
On the other end of the line hung up.  
Then I sat down to write three long letters to myself,
Each with a moral, later collected by and large
In a file possibly named
Slow learning

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

form turning seasons (festival of words, day 3)

Yesterday was all about newness: writing my first lanturne poem. Which now brought an idea: to try other poetic short forms. Like: the tanka

Yet somehow, my mind had a different format in mind today. And brought back this memory of an erasure poem that I once played with in folds and photographs. I didn't really think I would find it in all the files, as I couldn't remember the title, but my subconscious knew the way.

So here it is, on this day of first rain after 7 days of dry heat: form turning seasons.

Now, off to see what the other contributors came up at the Festival of Words.
Here are some interesting and unusual takes:

- Zentangle & Botanical Drawing
- Surviving Mexico: Pozole (Aztec food + travel :)
- Soul Talk photo reflections 

Monday, July 11, 2016

2 hands support the heavens, or: write short and share (festival of words, day 2)

2 Hands Support the Heavens 

The world slows
As we move like


Today I learned two new things: in qigong, we started with the "5 Elements" practice, and today we learned the moves for the first element, Wood.

And I learned what a "Lanturne" is: a short form of poetry that follows a 5 line pattern. The Laturne is featured in Folded Word's new writing column "Write Short & Share", and of course after reading about it, I was tempted to write a Lanturne.

It took a bit to find the way from the 5 elements to the 5 laturne lines, but when the last word fell into place, it felt like: bingo.

The title of the poem "2 Hands Support the Heavens" is the name of a qigong move from the previous serious we learned, the 8 brocades. Some of them sound like poems: "Draw a Bow to Shoot a Golden Eagle".

And here's the original photo - this is the inner courtyard of the "Staatsgalerie" (State Gallery) in Stuttgart, Germany. It belongs to the new, modern-art part of the galery, the architecture is designed by James Stirling, and back then, caused controversial debates:

And some links:

And another "Staatsgalerie" photo, from last year: