What I notice about myself is that the fear of dying and death is increasing. Especially when confronted with the deaths of others, my mortality becomes clear to me. The more people die around me, the greater my fear that one day it will be my turn. A few years ago I was more easygoing. Of course I was very sad and shocked about every death. But, for example, I said things like: One day I will meet you in the afterlife. Not really worried. But, as I get older I lose that lightness. With all my senses, with my whole self, I ask to be able to be more life-affirming and to be able to see death as a natural part of life. Many great people left early. Often because of cancer. These people devoted themselves to life regardless of their own health. They were not stingy with their commitment. But whenever I notice weaknesses in my body, I immediately worry and the fear of death spreads quickly. Then I lose confidence, feel unfairly treated like no one loves me, and imagine other nonsense that makes it impossible for me to think clearly. But instead of overreacting, why can't I just let go?
Wednesday, 19
Today, in my daily clean-up routine, I come across the torn wrapping of the toilet paper. I read PIRAT, a German word, which is almost the same in English - pirate. The full caption reads INSPIRATIONS. I connect the two things and indeed there is a connection for me. Taking inspiration from someone or something is a form of piracy in my opinion. You use the ideas of others, and perhaps without telling them or giving them credit.
Then I also think of the pirate I owned and sailed when I was young. My parents were kind enough to buy it for me. See, they weren't too concerned that I was too boyish. It was of wood and I had it for a few years. I mostly sailed on the Elbe, but also did a sailing trip around Funen on the Baltic Sea. Then when I was in art school I couldn't use it anymore and sold it. But amazingly the boat still exists. Some time ago, a former sailing colleague, with whom I have communicated at facebook after about 40 years, sent me a link to it. I remembered the number 101 and the grain of the deck.
By the way, I've finished the Lilith's Brood trilogy by Octavia E. Butler.
"Until you know yourself a great deal better, you can't afford to relax that way while you're in contact with another person. Not even with me. You're too competent, too well able to make tiny, potentially deadly changes in genes, in cells, in organs. What males, females, and even some ooloi must struggle to perceive, you can't fail to perceive on one level or another. What they must be taught to do, what they must strain to do, you can do almost without thought. You have all the sensitivity I could give you, and that's a great deal. And you have the latent abilities of your Human ancestors. In you, those abilities are no longer latent. That's why you were able to activate genes in me that even I can't reawaken. That's why the Humans are such treasure. They've given us regenerative abilities we had never been able to trade for before, even though we've found other species that had such abilities. I'm here because a Human was able to share such ability with me."
Butler, Octavia E.. Imago: Lilith's Brood 3 (pp. 29-30). Headline. Kindle Edition.
Saturday, 15
i am a feminist or as my mom told me today: you are difficult
Being born a woman wasn't that easy, at least when I was born. Back then it was still a joy when the firstborn was a boy and a girl was only half the pride. Why that, as the mother herself was female. It is not entirely clear to me what principles this wish followed. Is it simply because of the patriarchy, or really love for men? Certainly partly because of the women's self-denial. In fact, one quickly learned to reject oneself and stand up for the other (the boy or then the man). To affirm him, to make him big, literally. Instead of saying what you actually like, namely yourself, you practiced standing up for others. Later you should be able to take care of the family, i.e. husband and children.
According to the physical characteristics of the female sex, you should be split, open to others to enter, and by no means an urging force as symbolized by the phallus. And please note the following, I have never envied a man's penis. The idea of virginity was no longer an issue for most of my generation in the area where I grew up. Own opinion, ok, but not too much, always consider a doubt. However, I loved discussions and kept my whole family busy with them. But as soon as I turned to and fro in front of the mirror to watch myself, I was called vain, which is probably how Protestants perceived it. Top-heavy and hostile to lust. On the other hand, when I swung the oars and gathered the sails on the girls' cutter, they said don't be so boyish.
Of course, it makes her schizophrenic in a way when she has to be beautiful, but at the same time rejects herself till it's up to a man to give her that good feeling of approval. In other words, be handsome and well-groomed, but humble and submissive. Self-love a no-go for women, only men are allowed to be narcissists, or what. By the way, men like to pit women against each other to feel powerful - ruling by deviding.
Also the mystification of women, which is often found in artists of the last century and before, has led to a lack of self-confidence in women, in my opinion. In the role of the model, her personality was defined by the artist's eyes, she herself should remain a blank slate. In reality, not fully recognized but distorted by chauvinists, women meandered in their self-perception. Urged to feel flattered by the man's gaze, they withdrew power over themselves, rather than accepting the flattery and drawing strength from it - one should remain humble and lower one's gaze while men were allowed to stare endlessly at women.
Fortunately, the tide has turned and women have done a lot of work to perceive and uncover this humiliation on the part of social norms and to develop a self-confidence that gives them the opportunity to recognize themselves. Still, there is work to be done. There are still a great many men who insist on their right to supremacy. I'm not saying at all that men should be rejected. On the contrary, I think everyone has the right to be respected. But none is worth more than the other. Nobody should be forced into gender-specific behaviour or judged on it.
ca. 1981/82, polaroid
Wednesday, 5
I know, yes, I know that the people who are trying to understand me and share my perception actually see me as an artist. Anyone who measures me by success, fame in the art scene or participation in large-scale artistic projects looks down on me and lets me feel it. Even if they try to hide it, I can spot it right away.
In fact, that's how most people categorize me. My work cannot convince them. They distance themselves, which is also based on the fact that they don't trust me because my social standard - mostly in terms of lifestyle - does not correspond to theirs. Something that has haunted me since I started thinking independently.
The '68 movement definitely influenced me. Met at a young age in 1970 on a trip to the Portuguese Algarve with my grandparents, I was fascinated by the skinny jeans of the hippies who hung out at the hotel lounge. So I had a lot of fun dressing up as a hippie for carnival and gradually adapting to the freaky everyday style in terms of habit, clothes, music, jargon, etc. For example, I collected signatures on my frayed jeans and banged my head to Cream and Ten Years After. Also, I adored Janis Joplin. Many my age were similar, some more radical, most more moderate, and some not at all.
I wasn't particularly respected by adults, including my parents, for being leftist (socialist idiology), but I loved the hippie vibes - we are all the same and enjoy life - and didn't abandon them for the older generations. I was very social, did church-based youth work and wanted to be either a pastor or a social worker. Becoming a lawyer was also sometimes on the table. However, art remained a challenge that I never gave up. But since I was very dependent, I tried to please everyone. During my art studies, I went through a kind of schizophrenic phase, or let's say I felt like that, because I didn't have the confidence to stand by what I was producing. I was neither centered nor did I know where to belong. There were only male professors - Sigmar Polke, Ulrich Rückriem, Franz Erhard Walther, Claus Böhmler etc. They frightened and discouraged me rather than comforting me in my search for the right path. Luckily I escaped the insanity and was then interpreted as rather boring. However, I quickly came to terms with the label "boring". Better to be left alone and called boring than constantly attacked and criticized. Also, I was too afraid of ending up on the streets and preferred to have a secure income with bread-and-butter jobs. I know other artists and cultural workers who have become self-employed for reasons of independence, who also had to make compromises, but who were better able to represent their own style overall. I admire these personalities very much for what they have achieved. But it's no use despairing that I didn't become like that. And it's definitely not these great people who despise me.
Monday, 3
Art Space Work of the Month
Alfred Hrdlicka (1928-2008) - Portait Study, 1985, lithography, 57x76.2 cm