Thursday, August 27, 2009

it's ten at night and I am tired. i'm hungry and i want a glass of wine too. it seems like work will never end. it feels like I am sailing in open water, no land in sight. luckily, i went for a run this morning. 50 minutes to myself along a small creek.
tonight is a city festival at the lake, which is the central park of this town. the fireworks just started and i can hear them loud and clear. i wish i could see them too - i love fireworks. they lift my spirits and i'm suddenly a little girl again, all in awe, lost in the beauty of the sparkling colors, the rainfall of beauty.. maybe tomorrow. tonight i will sleep tight..

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

the windows are huge. a giant green tree in front of it. in the distance the roaring engines from airplanes. a new morning. the nights are shorter, seem to be shorter. a different flow of time. a new rhythm. the car colors are subtle, the cars expensive. a polished old world. new to me. yesterday's grey sky is still lingering in my soul. arrival. the outdoors still welcoming. delicious grilled vegetables, bread and wine. the simple joy of life.
a subway ride ahead of me. will i remember any of the stations, will the names make me go down memory lane and if so, how will my day be shadowed by them? bakeries with delicious rolls on the way. a hot cup of coffee next to me. a summer day.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

time is passing by so swiftly and before i know it i will be 6000 miles away from this wonderful place. the sky is overcast, the temperatures have dropped and it looks like rain. last night the heavy rainfall reminded me of the Monsoons in Asia. it's wonderful to watch the downpour while sitting on a porch and listening to the water. i drag time. i push time. my suitcase is not packed. stacks of clothes are pulled out of the closet. shoes are lined up.
it is quite chilly this morning. the grass is wet and the air is saturated with moisture. i don't want to leave, i don't want to move at all. i want to sit here listening to the time. that is what i want. the cat is sleeping in the chair next to me. thoughts are running through me like trains on a fast track. i realize more and more that i don't like changes too much, that i have a tremendous need for stability and security and yet my life seems to be filled with quite the opposite. i ponder these thoughts, I argue with myself, i try to understand. security and change don't pair up too well. soon i will be 6000 miles away - for a time. for the time being.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

harvest time. the peaches are freshly picked, the flowers were just cut. they both radiate the beauty of summer and are a synonym for abundance. fresh produce is everywhere: sweet corn, zucchini, peaches, berries, cucumbers, salads, herbs, squash and more. all the farms have their little 'selling stations' set up along the road. card board signs with hand written prices on them invite you to stop and shop. it is a wonderful feeling to buy directly from the farmer and not to browse the supermarket aisles for vegetables and fruits. the purchase on the road side or at the farmer's market stands inspire the notion of healthy food, loaded with vitamins and nutrition.
the smell of these peaches is wonderful and they are a standing invitation to create a dessert, which in my case means baking a cake. And a peach cake is simply delicious.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

summer has reached its peak with steady temperatures in the upper nineties. yet one can already spot early signs of fall. some leaves are turning yellow. the grey sky is a perfect backdrop for this subtle change in color. the days are already shorter and the grass is growing at a slower pace. it seems like nature is pausing for a while before it starts its next adventure: fall. last night a heavy rain shower nourished the thirsty plants and the humidity rose to a new high. the sky is overcast but here and there sparks of bright sunlight appear and millions of water drops sparkle on the ground.
summer is 'easy living'. the abundance of nature. the warm days, the lush gardens, the vastness of the sky. but if you look carefully, you can see the first signs of fall...

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

In the early hours morning I was so deeply asleep that the alarm clock was a real shock to my system and my heart made an extreme jump. i tried to find the snooze button, because all i wanted was to go back to sleep. immediately. the promise i made to myself last night was buried under the urge to continue sleeping.
the alarm clock rang again. the second time around my heart did not jump. but my body still felt heavy and comfortable. So I hit the snooze button again. there was a shimmer of guilt entering my consciousness and last night's promise whispered its reasoning with a whimsical voice. However, I dozed off, feeling the warm fur of my cat's belly in my right hand.
i woke up again before the alarm started a third time. i turned it off, knowing that i would most likely sleep in now and that at some point in the morning hours i would feel extremely guilty about the weakness of my will power. i listened to myself and i knew that what i heard was right, yet at the same time, i allowed myself to fall asleep again. this time i entered dreamland.. and maybe i could never wake up.

Monday, August 17, 2009

he came home to his apartment late in the afternoon. the place looked different in a very subtle way. it took him a few seconds until he realized that certain things were missing. pictures on the wall, framed certificates from his various schools. notes pinned to the refrigerator.
he called his friend, also a police officer, to tell him about this strange break-in and asked him to come over. the friend said he would do so. while he was waiting for him to show up, he continued to look for missing objects, when it dawned on him that they had taken everything that could identify him. whoever broke in did a marvelous job. all of his personal belongings were gone. everything that showed or gave proof of his existence as a person had been taken. no pictures of him anymore, no letters, no bills, nothing. his home had been turned into an impersonal furnished apartment
Why would anybody try to erase him ? he had not yet discovered, that his friend was involved in this.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

my camera is broken. 'lens error'.
no images. for now.
i need another camera in the interim - while mine is at the repair center - god knows where and how long they will take to fix it.

it is a hot summer sunday. a very hot summer day. i just came back from a 45 minute run. at 10.00 am it's almost too late in the day for a run. but i'm glad i did it anyhow before finding myself trapped in a car for over 7 hours. the city is calling and riding into town on a hot summer day is not something i'm really looking forward to.
time is running. i need to pack and prepare lunch. most important of all. i need a camera. now.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

it seems that all my life signs have pointed to 'the great outdoors'. Yet i settled for a city life, for a stone desert, for a cubicle. my life turned into a routine of 'to and from work'. and work was inside. at the desk. signs however, were everywhere. when i look at my childhood pictures i always notice that I have a big smile on my face, when i am outside. I remember feeling 'locked in' when the sun was shining outside and i had to stay inside. Years later, in the big city, i walked extra miles in the late afternoon just to catch the sunlight on the way home. most of the streets were already in the shade. most of the time. and i felt trapped again. I wonder whether my profession was really about the joy and ability of organizing or whether it was more about traveling. seeing the new. not being trapped 'inside' in the same spot time and again. where would i be now if i had payed attention? and in what direction does this move me now? i will find my place. i want to.

Monday, August 10, 2009

the intense morning fog seems to mirror the fog in my head. the white thick and moist air locks everything in or out, depending on one's perspective. for over an hour the sun has been up but the fog is as dense as it has been, there is just a hint of yellow mixed into the off-white. i feel locked into myself, and on the same note I feel locked out from the world. I'm waiting for a clear vision, an idea. I'm waiting for a road i can walk along. every idea or thought that comes to my mind is second guessed. therefore no decisions are made. no steps are taken. What am i afraid off? or is fear not the hindrance? but what stops me from taking action. what stops me from making decisions, from moving forward. - when the fog burns off and forms start to appear in the distance it seems to me like the world is discovered all over again. but why can i not burn the fog off in my head? why is my vision so distorted? what keeps me locked in place? i need not question my intuition. but i do. it's all a blur. yet i can see some blue now, mixed into the white thick air.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

What radiates more contentedness than this cat, lying between the bee balm flowers? A perfectly relaxed body, an observant mind. Sometimes I wish i had my cats character traits. A particular one is her patience. She can look at you for the longest time, just sitting there and looking, waiting for me to get up in the morning. Sometimes however, she gently touches my cheeks. it seems to me as though she tries to wake me up, saying "hey, get up, this is our morning time, why are you still sleeping?" but most of the time, she just sits next to me and waits for me to open my eyes. this morning I fell asleep again and when i woke up she was still sleeping, too. this is very unusual for her, but it just shows how she seems to have no problem adjusting to the moment. Her presence sometimes fills me with awe. i can't help thinking that if i had her character traits i'd be a much happier and contented person. there is a lot that can be learned from her and i'm ever so grateful that she chose our house to be her home.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

This old stair case leads to the umpires place at the Saratoga Race Track. It is small and the steps show signs of age and use. i find it stunning that the access to his office is so tucked away. or maybe it is built in this way so people, disagreeing with his decisions, have a hard time getting to him. i suppose the energy and aggression level is quite high during races. walking along the balcony to the end of the little hallway and then making a left into his tiny little office - which seems to hover over the race tracks - is exciting. over 100 years of winning and losing radiate through the hallway. entire lives are built around these races here and the umpires verdict was always the last and final word before cameras and millisecond measuring devices took over. with every step up to his office time seems to be turned backwards. it's an amazing place.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

red seems to be the appropriate color for the heat of the day.
the flowers love the heat - especially after all that rain.
And actually so do I.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Sunday. It rained last night. again. but it did not wash away the memory of Saturday.
I was invited to a birthday party, which turned out to be an all day 'event'. it was wonderful. it was fun. good conversations, laughter, delicious food, a soothing breeze. fireworks and a red/orange sunset. stories were told, moments were shared. this gathering of people cheered me up. life was put on hold and we all seemed to melt into the moment, into this 'celebration'. sometimes the alignment of the stars seem to be just perfect. what a wonderful first day of the month. the memory melts the grey rain clouds of today away and the late morning coffee feels wonderful. for once.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

a new month. the 8th month of the year. it is the height of summer. 10 o'clock in the morning. sunshine. 68 degrees. blue sky. one white puffy cloud. soft shadows. a cup of coffee. sunscreen lotion. a table in the shade. Saturday. one hour to myself before the schedule for today kicks in. dogs at noon. pizza at two. drinks at five. dinner at sunset. the first day of the month. it should be Sunday. maybe then i would pull out a comfortable chair and doze. I'm sleepy. but the errands this morning are tight from one event to the next and there isn't enough time to space them out. For 150 years it has not rained as much as it has in the 7th month of this year. the rising water flooded streets and lawns, gardens and meadows, houses and grave yards. now the water is subsiding. the first day of the new month is welcomed by bright sunshine. but who knows what the future holds?