Thursday, 31
Today is the last day of the month. I realize that I haven't written much. I know I write repeatedly about writing as such and why I often fail to do so. See, I am kind concerned about this. It actually happens to me more and more often that I create a text in my head, but it dissolves into nothing. While I used to to write down my words after I had composed them in my mind and capture them them by repeated inner recitation, do I now have to write down immediately on the spot whatever thought comes to my mind. Otherwise it's gone. So there are more and more gaps, because I can't remember what I wanted to write about and then I leave it.
I used to have this attitude, especially in conversations, that if I forgot what I was going to say, I would tell myself or my conversation partner that the thought probably wasn't really important and if it was important, it would come back. That is no longer the case. Whereas trifles often get stuck in my gray cells, the essentials simply disappear. Further, the general question of what is essential and what is not overwhelms me from time to time. Am I allowed to write about such a personal everyday occurence? Then suddenly, everything seems so irrelevant that I no longer know what to focus on.
Indeed, for the reasons just mentioned, this year I'm not forcing myself as much as I did last year, when I made it my mission to make an entry in the bloq every day.
Some people tell me that they don't like to read. Some of them don't like to write either. One even told me she hated it. I am talking about people who are very close to me. I myself enjoy reading and writing and am often sad when I don't have the time for it. Still, I'm trying to understand what might be behind the fact that these people don't like to read. Perhaps they lack the spiritual in reading, where only their own mind is challenged. When reading, they are only with themselves and the authors, who are not even present as persons. They may prefer doing things that involve more of their senses, such as watching TV or movies, or social media, where they see people through their eyesight. Where they hear people's voices with their outer ears. Maybe they prefer to go out and meet people in real. Or they withdraw from this kind of cultural encounter altogether and turn to nature walks. I think there are endless possibilities to do something other than reading or writing.
Epilogue. While writing I forgot that I have to turn off the pump. The sun isn't very intense today and it took longer than usual to fill the tank. Excess water is drained off through a pipe, which is a good solution. Except when the wind blows towards the house, like today, there is a small flood in case I forget to off it.
Thursday, 24
Fear of falling short has often prevented me from doing anything. Better to do nothing than dispise yourself for what you have done. Therefore I stay in my chair because I know something could go wrong. Suddenly, when you are about to take a step that is going to be a mistake, that wrong step is reflected in you, and you acknowledge yourself as ugly. In fact, very often we cannot predict the outcome of an act, so sticking with the status quo seems like a safer option. But you can't freeze beauty by doing nothing. Time will eat it up. Dorian Gray's dream of eternal youth was revealed to be an illusion in the picture in the attic. Doing nothing and trying to prevent changes turn out to be errors. There's no point in being frozen in lethargy. You have to move on whatever happened. At school I learned to learn from my mistakes. In art school I learned to work with mistakes. The eraser was taboo. The false lines were supposed to be integrated within the image. Accept the wrong line and make something out of it.
Wednesday, 23
Something had been in the air for days. I could say whatever I wanted, but I was sure it wasn't the right thing to say. Nevertheless, I say what I think. I know I'm not good at arguing aggressively - because I don't like it. So I am careful how I phrase what I have to say. Although sometimes I have to let out unfiltered what bothers me internally. I'm not a gamer. Then suddenly there is a void. Where there was something before, there is nothing anymore. If something bothers me that I'm dissatisfied with, I try to address it. Basically, I want to approach every topic analytically, philosophically or psychologically. I am interested in the opinion of my counterpart and it is not about asserting my opinion, but about exchanging ideas. As far as arguments go, I lose pretty much every one of them and as soon as I'm devastated I blame myself for everything I've said. I realise I've been completely misunderstood. I say, I'm bad at fighting when the goal is to silence the other and eventually make them feel wretched. No, I do not need that. Focused discussion - yes - I absolutely appreciate it, but I don't have time for meaningless disputes, where it is not about the topic, but only about getting energy for oneself.
Tuesday, 22
Art Space work
Mirko Szewczuk (1919-1957) - Die eigene Meinung (Your Own Opinion), 1947, lithography, 39.8x23.5 cm
Sunday, 13
This morning my walk to the beach was unmolested. But I'm still appalled by the changed landscape and of course saddened by the difficulty of walking. Today it seemed to me that there is more water. The stagnant waters are clearly visible in the photo. Each time we, the dogs and I have to find another way to reach the narrow strip of remaining dunes. In the rainy season, the mine will be flooded and passage without a boat will no longer be possible. Yesterday I saw that the satellite images were renewed. Before I took the photo from my computer screen, which is no longer possible as my computer is too old to update the browser. Hence the different representation.
Before and After or The Destruction of the Dunes
Sunday, 6
Like every weekend, I took the dogs to the beach today, and every time I curse the sand miners as soon as I have to cross the plain they have created and trudge through deep truck tracks. Most of the time we don't see people. Today, however, I saw the relatively young man sitting on the floor smoking and leaning against the wall of Maria's shop from afar and I hoped that he wasn't bothering me. As we walked past him, he called Hello and I said saale maleikum, to which he replied maleikum saalam, but immediately reverted to English with a demanding voice Where are you going? Are you going to the beach? I've learned to just walk on in such cases and not say anything. Because no matter what you say, to them it already sounds like an invitation to a conversation. When we were on our way back, but still on the beach, he suddenly appeared. I tried to avoid him. But he took a piece of wood in his hand, waved it around wildly and yelled Where are you going? This time I was angry and replied It is none of your business where I am going. He then yelled I need taxi, several times. I will kill you when I don't get taxi. The dogs were a bit irritated but didn't pay any attention to him and ran ahead of our path. I quickly followed them. The man kept yelling and finally shouted I come in the night and kill you. Well, I don't think he knows where I live and he seemed too crazy to be really scared of. Nevertheless, I walked home briskly.
Tuesday, 1
This was a beautiful morning. I got up early and started the day snugly. I had good intentions for the future. Maybe because today is the start of a new month, I told myself to be less negative and accept life more as it is. Don't always complain and think everything is bullshit, but be happy about what I have and who I am. If something happens that isn't on my plan, just accept it and don't feel disturbed, as I often do. No extreme feelings, no overwhelm, but a relaxed existence. If the plants don't grow as I would like them to, let them be there without insulting them. With this understanding and self conception, I will be less afraid to face life.
Art Space Work of the Month
Klaus Beck (*1928) - Volte, 1994, photo work, 54x43.8cm