trips - that's leaving, in order to get there to go further. Beyond the horizon of their own and territory, more widely than their own ideas of how, and farther than the limits adopted and imaginary - to find new ones that call again "continue" and force it to pause: Not every border and wants to really be exceeded.
to meet these very subtle difference "beyond" but not to perceive, these are the breaks there. And make the we just and extensively in the middle of one of the most beautiful scenery in Europe, the Ardeche, with my friend Ana. And when the sky would still cooperate with the concerns of the exposed progression, it's raining - still and always - in torrents. So we stay "home", enjoy the break from wandering around and living in a plastic cube: Solid, hundreds - oh, what I say - many millions of years old stone surrounds us, raises once again the comforting feeling of a stabilden housing and penetrates us can with the urlangsamen vibrations that only the stone, the oldest inhabitant of this planet radiate (resident?). Give me strength at a time when everything in motion set.
But this peace has its price: At night I'm down from a nightmare after another, all my known and unknown fears and concerns of flooding the unconscious dream-wake surface will be seen and ... well, what can be understood? Classified? Swept?
I lose Alina in the forest and not even realize it. When I then "coming to consciousness" there is only this familiar feeling: the moment when I had the fate can turn is over. And the longing that I should turn the clock back to, behind and beyond this "event horizon", because I have just missed. But this is beyond my "power".
As houses and apartments attack on me, where I lived, people and stories I've lived through reading, I slip into the roles of knights inside and adventurers, fight the given constantly changing enemy, and I am at the end to create a new of them. The borders are soft and puffy, which separate the "good" from "evil" that provide guidance in a safe area, which are so familiar and yet so strange.
Since it snows in July from a deep black sky as I drive with friends in the past. And I fear pursued before a nameless threat that reveals itself slowly and inevitably is ...
Well, I can already hear the voices, including my own, better-know-it, since the concreting: Well, if a trip does, then it has to do. So, as it was, of course, that would gain in the disappearance of the familiar, the maligned primal fears of the public, vulnerability and threat everywhere a located the upper hand. As if life is a question of balance of influence and delivery. Of argument of the inner chain dog namn Versicherrungsvertreter.
clear, but yet, I have chosen for a - temporary - not back. (As one would ever go back!) And yes, I've decided for a temporary On-delivery (even the word rejoice in its ambiguity!) And yes, I'm afraid.
I trained for 45 years, inner-pig has become accustomed to the limits of Suhl, in which it is the daily food ration, the waste of the table of people waiting. Is it really proper care - right? Yesterday it rained
then finally no longer the "wild weather" (Marie-Luise) probably put a pause times. So I sat for half the day at the Beaume, even one of these rivers here are still a real, over millions of years in the rock bed of the river have dug, surrounded by stone guardians in the green dress of mimosa, pine and oak trees. I sailed on the cranes, hawks and swift, my daughter was sitting in the water and laid softly singing mosaics made of colored stones, Wolfgang spoke to the mountains - and I listened to the whisper of water, slipped on rocks and roared: The "Soft", which with the is "hard" linked in an endless dance along the borders. In the flow of the Stony carry with them liquefy through with light and air udn elsewhere again bear shores, massive new building, caving, fortschwemmend, wash up ...
Where is the border, where everything is in motion? Where does one thing and where can safely say the other measure to be here at home? Not the touted everywhere "Unity" is about me here, which I do not think anyway, because it is a concept that yet again the other, the unconditional need ... no, it's feeling the importance of exercise, but I still can not put into words ...
No, it is still in me did not. My cells are bursting with energy, drive on lawn, further forward. This is probably "come over the hill" to the. Exhausting is, but also very stimulating, especially since I (still) have no idea what waits behind the well-dome on us. Here in the land of mountains and valleys, it is this little moment just before you push up on the hill, as you think, now falls I do. Only to feel: Behind HERE seeing a rapid down the mountain, but the gravity keeps you on the ground.
It is the force of attraction which is born of the movement. Rivers, clouds, weather, blood, feather flying skills, breathing. Get out, inside. Abschilfern and equipment. In the travel and rest in between I take this movement on again and will shaken like a fallen into the water bubble. Take a bath. Come to my senses. And try to feel the ground.
tomorrow it goes - if we ever get the trailer again. But yesterday we had to do with how a soft asphalt in the local mountain roads frozen heavy vehicles using was a few boards, a lot of laughter and tireless back and forth again made fledged. The holes in the road were filled with a few pebbles from the edge of the torn asphalt, soft as butter in the midday sun, firmly trampled with a few vigorous kicks. Why fix what the next vice flies apart again? Resignation? Probably viability. And the realization: Against the forces of movement you can not grow anyway. It's just a matter of time before the river has carved into the stone bed.
Our next destination is the sea. It will be with us for a while before we go back to the mountains, then in the Pyrenees. As I said, and Steinhart Soft water. With breaks.
