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| The Scream |
"Noch etwas süsses?" (something sweet?) the bakery saleswoman asks. Then she recoils: "Das habe ich noch nie gesagt..." (I've never said that before.)
"I never go to libraries," he says, "but I'm interested in libraries as a concept."
"How do you feel about 9am?" my fellow student asks me while entering the class at 9am.
I have time to spend at the museum so I sit down in front of a Cy Twombly. After half an hour I decipher a scribble on The School of Fontainebleau: "How to hold anything," it wonders.
"I'm always too late," she says, "When I think I have some time left, I start doing something and then suddenly time is gone."
"Das Grenzenlose ist nicht denkbar," (The infinite is unthinkable) says my tantra teacher.
"When a word doesn't manage to lock something in, music comes about", says C. referring to Roland Barthes.
"I had a house like this," a Russian countess tells Poirot, "First a house, then a wing in the house, then a room in the wing, and then nothing." "That doesn't make you a thief," says Poirot. "Life itself is a thief," so the countess, "It has taken everything I had."
"I don't want to take the elevator, I prefer stairs," I tell the hotel manager. "He laughs - "You gonna like Venice."
Things fall from the shelves. People fall from their feet.
My new favourite German word: "Verzweiflungsweinen" (to cry out of despair)
A few days in the country and I start writing symphonies:
1. Symphony of Wind
breeze (p)
trees (p)
curtains (pp)
2. Symphony of Summer
flipflops (p)
mosquito (pp)
water (p)
3. Symphony in K-major (7am)
KuKuKu (flies around in circles)
ruuKuuKuu (stays put in front)
KwaKwaKwa (travels through)
Kuu Kuu (on the far left)
Krrr Krrr Krrr (in the middle)