“Keep growing quietly and seriously throughout your whole development; you cannot disturb it more rudely than by looking outward and expecting from outside replies to questions that only your inmost feeling in your most hushed hour can perhaps answer.” (Rainer Maria Rilke)
We’re near the lighthouse. In a Danish fishing village. Morning means Chai tea latte, dried apricots and riddles. The Baltic Sea already adopted us. Some years ago we have also adopted Pumpkin, the ginger cat and Frosty, the Holland lop rabbit with broken orange coloring. You are wearing your colorful sunglasses, a wool hoodie, red pants and brown boots. You keep smiling, but not for the camera. Everything is quiet and I adore this feeling. Afternoon means zucchini cheddar biscuits, raw cashew cheese with sun-dried tomatoes, mulled wine and mixed sensations. You know how to fly your kite. We love ‘Ernest et Célestine’, wooden toys and theatre. We are young, vulnerable and delusional, but have you seen the sky today? Perfection means a gentle feeling of fondness, some hazelnut ice cream and a warm hug.
Speaking of sunsets,
last night’s was shocking.
I mean, sunsets aren’t supposed to frighten you, are they?
(…) The mockery of it all stung us bitterly (…)
Sure, it was beautiful, but far too beautiful.
Vanilla cupcake candles, your dimples, our morning cup of tea, your Paris café & mellow jazz compilations, the sound of trains early in the morning, our dizziness, musicality, the atypical toys such as Oxelo, to move backward and forward, especially rotating about or hanging from a fixed point, and most of all… your kindness.
‘The boy I had met was shy and inarticulate. He liked to be led, to be taken by the hand and enter wholeheartedly another world. He was masculine and protective, even as he was feminine and submissive. Meticulous in his dress and demeanor, he was also capable of a frightening disorder within his work. His own worlds were solitary and dangerous, anticipating freedom, ecstasy and release.’
Patti Smith – Just Kids
The boy was listening to ‘Blackbird Raum – Honey in the hair’ and suddenly killed her smile.
The fish in the fishbowl and the bird in the cage.
You refuse to invent them in the sea or the air.
You stylize or copy once you have seen
their small, agile bodies with your honest eyes.
(Federico García Lorca)
*I like the sleep left in your eyes.
Happiness is kept in little boxes.
I leap for joy and click and whirr all day.
But you, you’re a hedonist!
I want to change hemispheres and always smile!