December 21st 2000
‘ I was filled with dissatisfaction, vague discontent with my life, which
had passed so quickly and uninterestingly, and I thought all the while how
good it would be to tear out of my breast my heart which had grown so
weary…’
(anton chekhov, ‘the house with the mezzanine’)
Mittwoch.20 dezember…1333h…
Greetings from stone ridge in th Hudson valley, on th catskill
foothills…!
Unmoored, yet no longer aimless-
Confident & reconciled:
secure in th ebb tide’s drift
curving its ice-blocked flow
in a warm wash against th far far shore…
Trying things out: synchronise, synchronise, synchronise…stumbling my way
about mr. Gates’ domains…
this is the time for rereading hesse’s ’steppenwolf’ & th Russians-
I return to some random stanzas by osip mandelstam-
why are there such songs in my soul
and so few dear names?
Why is a moment of rhythm mere chance
As when the north wind suddenly comes?
…do i perhaps know why I am weeping?
I can only sing and die.
Do not trouble me: I do not mean anything
And I cherish black chaos in black dreams.
…feign tenderness, stand by the pillow,
sing your life to sleep until its end-
as in legends, indulge your sorrow,
treat proud ennui as your friend.
love, passion & bitter belgian chocolate to all this holiday season!
davizzetj=(8{>