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Late or early bloomer, whatever...

Lime blossom tea and a madeleine and wait and see what happens.

Justine Kurland “Bathers,” 1998

Das Paradox des Lebens: Loslassen ins Verbundensein Einsicht ins Ungewisse

Matt O’Brien, 'Manizales', (2010, from the series 'No dar papaya', a common expression unique to Colombia which means show no vulnerabilities and present no easy target.)

The man in town today who was spreading a whole bucketful of grain feed, shovel by shovel, to the street pigeons. I stopped by and enjoyed the hustle of the hungry birds. Whether he knew that he was risking a fine, I asked him. He just darted me a conspirational glance. 🕊️

People who start a rant by saying that they don't really want to complain and end up apologizing because they still did it after all. 🧘‍♀️

Porridge & pear. [Have a break, have an alliterative breakfast.]

“Sometimes a tall column rose up solitary in a waste land, as a great thought may spring from a soul ravaged by time and sorrow.” — Chateaubriand, René (tr. Irving Putter)

The quiet after.

New day, new dawn, new hairdo.

The Days of Frozen Fog.

Emblematic

In dreams the empire of my subconscious struck back again. I was the owner of an indoor pool. In real life I have worked off possessive thinking for reasons long since but it felt good to swim my laps completely undisturbed.

The river was the colour of cold blue ice today. In the park, a duck convoy crossed my path to search for something to eat in the rustling leaf covered grass, eagerly. After great relief a certain lightness is spreading.

Resolve

Joy Harjo

In the 7th chapter of Pinocchio Geppetto returns home & gives his own breakfast that ought to consist of 3 pears to Pinocchio. Geppetto has to peel them before Pinocchio agrees to eat. Still hungry he ends up devouring the cores & even the skins. The pear seems to be the true fruit of knowledge.

poire & poivre.

In dreams I am in that entrance area again - of the university library or a tourist attraction overseas - and the actor whose name I neither know nor in which film I saw him passes me once more. There must be a DJane in my subconscious who keeps playing her favourite remixes over and over again.

Couldn't get last night's dream out of my head all day long. I stayed at a hotel by the sea and wanted to go to the beach but I was held by the bustle around a pit swarming with fluffy young fowl, geese, ducks, etc., all gaggling at once. They were cute but I didn't make it to the beach.

Dear old diary, it's that time of the year again when days refuse to lighten up.

Neurosis? What neurosis?

Picked up my flu shot. When I was jabbed I didn't feel a thing & left the surgery wondering whether the serum had actually entered my body. Disinfectant had run down my arm, perhaps vaccine, too? Meanwhile injection site & chills are signalling all-clear. Compliments to the aspiring practice nurse.

Foggy morning, the fine-pored moisture wafts through the open windows and wraps everything up in the complete and utter November aura. Like ghosts that are here to stay for the time being. Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome. Make yourselves comfortable.

Love in Moonlight by Louise Glück

At the dentist today because the cusp of a molar broke off while I was eating a slice of bread and butter with blackcurrant jam. One of the pits in the currants was the culprit. You couldn't make it up.

Rosa Chacel, from a diary entry featured in Diario, originally published in 1993

November still playing the claviature of October.

November morning, dreamy like moonstone. Sunlight powders the world to which the baring branches bow like a curved typeface.

Dry leaves in sand.

In dreams I met a long since deceased person & we danced the fandango. Beyond that, I wish I could have talked to them but encounters of that kind always remain silent. However, the fascinating thing is that they look grown old appropriately as if there was an age filter at work in the subconscious.

Walking along the row of houses, peering into every dark backstreet where at the end of each one I catch sight of the low-hanging crescent moon like the last lantern burning. Or simply the one that is accompanying me. 🎃🌙

HERBST-ABEND Wind aus dem Mond, plötzlich ergriffene Bäume und ein tastend fallendes Blatt. Durch die Zwischenräume der schwachen Laternen drängt die schwarze Landschaft der Fernen in die unentschlossene Stadt. Rainer Maria Rilke

A colleague saw me off on the leave with a bottle of beer. I should enjoy it with a nice snack. Put it in the fridge because too exhausted & overwhelmed by a deep sadness. In the morning, first rain, then sunshine & pigeons swarming out into the brightening blue sky. Time to tidy up. Inside & out.

Schlaf der schönste Fluss von allen.

happy birthday Sylvia Plath 🎈

Late walk, at that crazy hour when the crows chase each other through the skies, like children before they have to go to bed. Downstream, a lone rower was canoeing in meditative calm towards the night.

Early walk, raindrops rolling off leaves. Inwardly smiling I make an oracle out of the suspense whether they will hit me or not: They love me, they love me not. Effeuiller la pluie.

Heute in #Wiens Straßen unterwegs und gefühlt fünfzig verschiedene #Sprachen gehört. Und das, ja, das weitet das Herz. #vienna #Internationalcity

Krasznahorkai lesen - hier "Ich brauche nichts von hier" - der letzte Text aus "Die Welt voran" - übersetzt von Heike Flemming: Ich ließe alles hier, die Täler, die Hügel, die Pfade und die Eichelhäher aus dem Garten, ich ließe hier alles stehen und liegen, Himmel und Erde, Frühling und Herbst, 1/4

ich ließe hier die hinausführenden Wege, die Nächte in der Küche, den letzten verliebten Blick und alle zu den Städten führenden Richtungen, die einen schaudern lassen, ich ließe hier die undurchdringliche Dämmerung, die sich aufs Land senkt, die Schwere, die Hoffnung, den Zauber und die Ruhe, 2/4