(These pictures of my after-winter garden basically show what is called an "Idylln" around here, in a very ironic but loving way.)
(I took the pictures of those golden ear rings to be with fancy stones in the workshop in early fall and they still aren´t finished - by posting these I hope to put a bit of pressure on us to do so.)
(This NIGHTSTAND made me want to give Anita Brookner an other try - I found her HOTEL DU LAC so cruel, but I am so glad I gave it another shot, because this one is just so, so good. Here is my favorite passage: "He would, he had long ago decided, be deliberately euphoric. It was a technique which he could practise and perfect, although sometimes it nearly eluded him. Thus, from his earliest days, he remembered scenes that might have been deviced by Proust." To be deliberately euphoric - what a way to lead ones life (despite the fact that he has been trough a lot of hardships), this seems hugely inspiring to me. I also love the fancy vintage cover and I am planing on collecting many of those. Oh, and that would be my own CRESCENT BRACELET, in case you were wondering!)
My Sundays are busy in a weird way. I do my laundry because I still have my Grandmother´s ancient electricity contract, where they don´t charge as much for electricity used during the night and on Sundays. It looks like I use as much electricity during the week as on washing and tumble drying days. Also I need to flip my mattress once a week, because I got tricked into spending a lot of money on it years ago and it turned out it is complete garbage and really sucks. After a week of sleeping on it, it feels like I have to crawl out of a valley each morning. So Sunday is when I flip the damn thing. My sister says I can´t call it being tricked, I was just being plain stupid instead, since it was one of those shops calling themselves a specialized mattress dealer in bold red and yellow letters, while simultaneously announcing an eternal sale. The tumbler also doesn´t really work that good anymore, so I spend the day with a kitchen filled with chairs covered in clothes in the final drying stages.
I find a padded fancy leather jacket at my friend´s and stockist´s SHOP, when she is having a sale. I also fall in love with a black cashmere sweater with flowers on it. In the end I swap them for the most elaborate of our SILVER RECYCLING NECKLACES, which means I got a really, really good deal on them. They both smell like the also very fancy perfume she sells, which unfortunately gives me a bit of a headache, so I have to air them out for a while. Which basically means wearing both a lot. I look almost sharp in that jacket, a quite disturbing sight.
I break the cup that wet with my tiny tea POT, all because when doing the dishes that morning I marveled at the fact that I had not yet broken it, even though I use it every morning since my sister gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago. Trying to put it away while simultaneously eating a shitty peanut-butter-seeds-and-chocolate-slice, I drop it a few hours later. My magical thinking is powerful and by now the facts are on my side. I had a premonition of dropping my phone in the toilet (only for the first time it happened to me, the second time it was a surprise) and even of my grandmother´s deadly stroke, I get a feeling about the tiniest and greatest losses - so don´t try to tell me otherwise. I can´t accept broken or lost things, so that damn cup was glued together again right away - you can´t drink from it anymore, of course, but at least it is not that broken anymore. However I also think when something minor happens, it means something major isn´t happening instead. So all of these plates breaking and there are a lot of plates breaking these days - sometimes they just sit broken in their drawer, broken by ghosts´ hands probably - keep the really bad stuff from happening. And I am very thankful for that. I even told my mother about this when she was mourning a broken antique jug and made her feel very good about it instead.
A friend tells me she is pregnant while the dog she is currently watching starts to throw up violently. The poor beast heaves and shakes and I pity her a lot. She is a vegan dog, so the throw up is bright yellow. When I am riding home on my bike, I am wondering how a dog in the wild might come to the conclusion to lead a vegan life and I figure it probably goes like this: "Glaubst as, des Hoosn jogn bockt mi nimma - i friss etz Ruam!" This is absolutely untranslatable since that specific vegan dog lived in the Upper Palatinate, being a teenager around 2010, talking this era´s local youth slang. I ask my sister if it is weird to think my own joke that funny - she doesn´t have a conclusive answer.
I don´t know what is wrong with my Photoshop, the transformation frames leave traces all over the desktop and I have no idea where I am at at any point - it feels like going mad. Then I find some short cuts to press while rebooting the whole thing and it goes away.
I am so pissed these days, carrying around some kind of anger, pared with so much tiredness and a feeling like I might come down with something any minute now. I had wanted to go to a screening by a quite successful DIRECTOR growing up in our town, visiting even the same school as I did, but I had written the date wrong and noticed it too late - made me scream. I also wanted to go to Munich and take a look at all those JEWELLERY EXHIBITIONS, but the day before I was so still so tired I had to lie down after riding the fold up bike I wanted take with me around the block. I will do so some other time, but it feels like I have failed. On the other hand, going to a bigger city always makes me feel depressed about the one I am living in. Of course I could just go visiting a lot, but I am just so immobile. Instead I feel like my life is wasting away, living at the lifeless outskirt of a narrow medieval town, with not that much to see. It is cute alright here, but I feel like I miss out on so much, the really beautiful things. But right now this is the only life I can afford and I am grateful for its advantages, but these days this irks me a great deal. I yell-tell all of this my sisters, they understand. They are not enough dates between meals to calm my mood and never any sweets in the house. My sister´s co-worker suggests I might switch to alcohol, everybody knows about my faul temper by now. Then I get an update on Facebook that one of the events I had dreamed of going to, a poetry reading at the Haus der Kunst, was cancelled due to sickness.
The seasons are changing again, my cat wants to be let out in the middle of the night, for a stroll in the dark. On her return she rattles at my door and covers my white bed sheets with earthy foot prints. The next day it feels like the first day of spring, she stays outside all day and comes home pumped, trying to pick play fights with me. It seemed like she had gotten old during the winter, but the warmth has turned her into a kitten again. It does sound odd, but I have really liked that winter, I am in no hurry for Spring either. I feel in tune with the seasons now.
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