i woke up with this longing for new books, for different pages. so i went to the library. didn't check the traffic news. and there i was. in the second major traffic jam this week that was caused by a turned truck. stuck between cars, i listened to music.
but it was all worth it. in the library, David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas waited. this book, i first saw it in December, in a bookshop. i was unsure about it back then, but noted the title, to read a review in the web. now it's here. together with Murakami and Musil.
from the library, i went to villa merkel - to see the Emily Jacir exhibition. it's ending this sunday, that's why i finally made it. plus, it felt like the right day for it. and it was. the wind blew leafs through the air as i walked to the villa, and kept them up there, kept them from falling. there were 2 girls with their mothers, chasing them. they all wore headscarfs. they all laughed.
i front of the villa, a construction ladder. but the door - open. just a few other visitors there, on this early wednesday afternoon. clouds playing with the shades, then sudden sunlight streaming in through the huge windows. it's such a precious place. its old walls and floors offering a base to modern photography, to acryl paintings, to installations.
and there it is. Jacir's tent. the one i saw in the web yesterday. now i see it for real. can touch it. can walk into it. can feel the hands of all those who helped to create it. next to it, an open folder - day pages. with lists of those who walked through the open door of her studio.
upstairs, a white room. it is empty. empty but for the white plates that run along the wall. i step up to the plates, and realize they are e-mails. copied by hand, copied word by word. line by line. electronic messages, made visible. words that were never meant to be published, unedited, uncorrected, unpolished. intense like life. inbox, the name of the installation.
it's like this day feels: all inbox, after days of outbox. that's what i think on the way back home, on another route, one that keeps me in safe distance from the fallen truck, from the traffic jam. one that takes me up the slope, to the edge of the valley, instead of keeping me inside of it.
back home, i find 2 petals on my desk, fallen while i was away, while i was watching leaves fly.
~
2 comments:
Is it perhaps odd I am commenting? yes. But I had to ask...
Der Äther webt
das All
der Atem webt
den Menschen
As far as my limited german can make out, Äther means ether... supposedly the fifth element that makes up heavenly bodies, is that right? Because otherwise I'm not sure I can make sense of this? My general impression is that ether moves/weaves (?) the universe and that the breathe moves the people?
Der Äther webt
das All
der Atem webt
den Menschen
~
the odd thing is that i thought of translating the lines when i included them in the post, but then couldn't think of a proper translation. in fact, after picking the card with those lines, i thought of putting the card down again, and then picking another one.
my yoga teacher must have sensed it. "go with your first choice," she said. "don't put the card back."
so here i am, stuck with the poem -
but yes, you got it right, äther means ether. which would make it:
the ether weaves
the universe
the breath weaves
the human being
only that it sounds silly. in german, there is a twist to it:
"das All" is both the universe and the everything.
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