Tag Archives: art


Lucy (2015)
…in the Sky (2015)

In my mind, we dance together. Twirling around the hardwood floors, you lift me into a pirouette and set me flying for a moment. The wind catches my hair and sets it aflame. In my mind, we hold each other, sitting atop the clouds, and we leave the world behind. In my mind, there is laughter, I laugh and you laugh, teasing each other, tripping and falling, hearts beating very fast, the wind holds us two feet off the ground. Two feet, three feet, higher, higher, twirling and swirling, around and around like children trapped on a merry-go-round. Listening to the sound of the air passing through, listening to the calling of the inner child, my dream… In my dream, we hold each other. In my dream, the sun never sets. In my dream, you kiss me to sleep. In my dream, we hold and we touch and nothing can hurt me. In my dream, I care for you, I know your demons and I fight your ghosts. In my dream, in my dream, I don’t wake up. I don’t wake up in the middle of the night, feeling the empty space beside me. I don’t wake up at all. I swim with you underwater, I can breathe forever, I twist and turn in your arms, in your arms, I sing and cry and I draw with oil, rushing across the sky, the sky is my canvas and the music is in our souls. And we need no restraint and we need no audio. And we need no warnings and we heed no prophecies. And we need each other and we stay.
In my dream, we stay.


essays of longing

Varúð (Caution, 2015)
Varúð (Caution, 2015)

I imagine that I’m typing these words on an old and rusted typewriter. My fingers hit each letter; the keys creak and bend; they give way against my will. My will is on paper; each word is a representation; each word, the bubbling of a storm kept shut for years. What happens next?

Caution, time tried to teach me; caution. But there is no faltering in this flight. Freedom is too powerful a spell. Craving, I’m craving for one more flight, one more step, higher and higher; faster and faster, like a shooting star- unraveling, burning and blinded.

There is only one way to go now, there is only one goal. No disappointment, no sorrow, no golden gates that bar the way shut. I can’t stop, I won’t stop and nothing will stand in my way. I won’t cry, I won’t tremble; a kiss will not break me, your words will not hurt me. There is no power here but sadness; there is no fear here but loneliness. There is not a day it doesn’t rain; not a single day the white marks are washed away. Behind this unbreakable wall of greedy clouds, there is a sun, there is a light, there is a start, there is a way, a path, unlit today and dark at night, but there is a path I struggle to find.

Take me in your arms. Don’t break my wings. Don’t stop my flight. Take me in your arms. Don’t let me go, don’t drown my dreams. Take me in your arms, don’t turn away, don’t let me fall. Take me in your arms and we’ll fly together; I’m not afraid and I’d share your fears. Take me in your arms, don’t walk too far, I will follow.

I swear I will follow.

Waters of the Heart

Waters of the Heart (2015)
Waters of the Heart (2015)

In chaos, I find salvation. Amidst the storm of this living, each day, with the rising; each day, the breaking of the new wonder. I saw a glimpse of the sun in the water; sat by the water and saw it glide and move; a steady rhythm. In his presence, I felt calm. In his presence, the earth wasn’t restless. Today, and only today, I whispered, I flew. In his presence, the world was all right. This side of the bridge, this side of the oneness, this side of the doubts and fears, the crumbling begins, the outer pieces falling.

In his presence, the world was all right. In his presence, the moon sunk low. In his presence, the night song grew and grew, into a harmony, an ecstasy; into the flow, the music, the words bringing together the worlds.

I wish not to wake up, standing outside, looking in; I wish it wouldn’t end; I wish I wouldn’t start the long walk alone; I wish it would last; a grip, the desire, a grim hope. And yet, in his presence, the world was all right; just for a moment, no tempests, no wildness untamed.

Just in this moment, the world was all right.

a letter in absence

Another Heart (2015)
Another Heart (2015)

I walked along the river today. My dearest love, these words are withering under the glittering sun. I miss you so dearly. As I walked along the waterway, I thought I saw your reflection on the waves. They teased me, if I reached out to touch, they fled from me. Then from afar, they beckoned to me, mischievously. My dearest heart, were those your wings I flew on? Did my weight burden you? We flew for too long. We saw the world from the topmost spires. The organ wept in the cathedrals below us; the keys were beaten, the notes, they wept; the notes, they were ferocious in their sadness. My voice, it cracked, and songs, broken and withered, were pulled out of me, out of the deepest depths of my soul. I beat on the music, I urged it; enraged, I beat on the notes; furious why I couldn’t fly; why my wings lay broken; why my heart no longer felt. My love, if this was yesterday, I would have given into you like no other. If this was yesterday, I would have taken you to the heavens; I would have sang to you songs of fire, songs of a wild, wild rush. I would have carried you on my wings, taking you, craving you; right into the skies, to the moon, burning like stars- I would have taken you. If it was yesterday… My love, yesterdays; ghosts, whispers and echoes- yesterdays; lights glowing softly, curled up in bed with a book, with a cup of steaming tea; laying next to you, head resting on your chest, hearing your heart beat- a scent I cannot forget, a touch I cannot stop feeling- laying in an infinite world, clouds soaring in through the open window- yesterdays… My dearest heart, love wanes. Memories come and they go, leaving behind soft footprints you can follow for some time on a slow day. My dearest dear, echoes will not stumble forever, ghosts will not always haunt; faces will eventually disappear; rust and dust and broken trust; they will win. They will win. And where will we be then?

too old for dresses

Dreams of Dust
Permissive (2015)

Freedom is a strange thing. For the first time, I could walk on the streets, I could wear a skirt. I was free. I was free to feel, I was free to fall in love. Free, I could laugh, feel, I could drink in the rain and let my dress blow in the wind. But free doesn’t mean easy, free doesn’t mean there are no hard lessons, free doesn’t mean I can catch up to decades of progression in a blink. Everything is different but I belong; and everything is familiar where I won’t give in. Do I feel I’m too old for dresses? Could I sleep forever if I had the chance? Would I give up an awakening, a ray of hope? No, even if every day is dark and the sun never comes out, I won’t. There is something about life that keeps me here, something about chances, love, truth, that keeps me here. There’s something about emotion, hope and songs that keeps me here. Something inviting, a temptation, a taste, that keeps me here, that makes it hard to give up. To taste it again, to breathe it in, it keeps me alive, it keeps me sane. There are days I feel like I’m lost in a storm, days where I walk and endlessly walk. There are days it keeps on raining, keeps on falling, a constant tapping on the streets, on the window pane. For a moment, the sun comes out.

This is winter, this is life.

the secrets among cities: Street Art in Düsseldorf

It is one of those best kept secrets. You never hear anything about it, you never read something about it. When people talk of Düsseldorf, it’s about fashion, or an upscale sheen that’s absent in Köln; it’s about the Düsseldorf-Hafen (Düsseldorf Harbor) or the Rhine Tower, Rhineturm in German. All memorable places, of course. The recognizable skyline has become the symbol for Düsseldorf. It’s a beautiful city and it shouldn’t be overlooked next to its bigger neighbor.

Perspectives of Kiefernstraße (2014)
Perspectives of Kiefernstraße (2014)

As I was walking from the central station- the friend I was with promised there was something else here that I would absolutely love. He was right. I think this is Düsseldorf’s best-kept secret. You’re walking along surroundings that look ordinarily gray and dull and you turn a corner and suddenly there it is: a magical street full of homes painted with wild colors and even wilder imagination. It’s enough to say that I was dancing with joy. On this day especially, it was completely empty. No one else was there- just I, and the treasured explorer who had brought me here.

Kiefernstraße is simply delightful. In itself, it has an interesting history with regards to squatting issues that emerged in the 1980s. Along with the first view, above is a little grid through which I am trying to convey the atmosphere of this mysterious street. I am not aware of who the artists were, I am still looking into it but it’s slightly difficult because most of the information is in German (at which I’m not so good). Little trailers are parked along the sides of the street, painted in different themes; perhaps attempting to capture the aura of bygone hippie days!

Strange Faces, Kiefernstraße (2014)

These two pieces spoke deeply to me. The amount of work and imagination that went into them is absurd. On a sunny but brisk winter day, as the light reflected above the house tops, I thought to myself that it was worth it coming to Europe. The biggest pleasures are unexpected- not waiting in public places and famous city symbols (those are great too, of course!) but my ultimate fulfillment from travel comes from places like these.

Shadowy Reflections, Kiefernstraße (2014)