“There are a lot of people but even more faces because everybody possess`several faces.”
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Ein Leben ohne Tod ist nur eine Existenz.
Es ist nicht der Tod, der unser Leben kostet, sondern es ist unsere Angewohnheit, Gefühle nicht auszusprechen, unsere Träumen nicht zu erfüllen und viel zu viel auf ein MORGEN zu verschieben, von dem wir nicht wissen, ob wir es erleben werden.
Es gibt keine Zeit außer der Gegenwart.
A life without death is just an existence.
It is not the death that cost us our life, but it is our habit not to speak out our feelings, not to realize our dreams and to put too many plans off till a future, we don`t know if we will experience it.
There is no time like the present.
On my lap, you ask
for comfort – without shame.
Seems to be so easy….
Auf meinem Schoß, bittest du
um Trost - ohne Scham.
Scheint so einfach zu sein...
I think I’m starting to understand
What real beauty is.
Because when you look into the eyes of someone
Who is both nice
But decisive as well,
Inner beauty means so much more.
I really like her.
I think she kind of gets me,
And it gets me
That I might regret me
If I don’t say something.
If I could say that
What I feel
Isn’t that big of a deal
It’s just that
I built a frame
but placed nothing in it.
My CV will not fill it.
Ich baute einen Rahmen
aber setze nichts ein.
Mein CV wird ihn nicht füllen.
Beyoncé is Sorry for What She Won’t Feel
The Capital’s so icy, I see my
perfect breath. It looks like a body
on its knees. Most days I strut
my figure on lock. A Nation
of Weaves assembles at my
Jimmy Choos, gazes into green light
and falls asleep. First Lady of desire,
I pant for our future. Like America
and wine, I am all legs. A sheepskin
bleached and dyed, left in the sun.
Dear Sunday you are a rash like
tresses falling to shoulders, pink
highlights humming the sky
like a tease. How do you feel
in moonrise, the stomach-growl
of life slowly closing? Do you wonder
about escape, the blank, quiet frontier?
I mouth Free and Home into a crowd
but they only hear gold extensions.
I listen for prophecies
from my daughter’s sticky mouth.
While I pick her hair, she cries.
I say, Never give them
what they want, when they want it.
Facing the ever-growing self-optimization delusion that fuels our inner critic non-stop, it is quite comforting to fall back on the Japanese idea respectively Zen-inspired concept of “Wabi-Sabi”.
Wabi-Sabi describes the art of Imperfect Beauty – accepting peacefully the natural cycle of growth and decay (as well as cycle of life & death), in which everything has beauty.
It is simple, slow and uncluttered, and it reverse authenticity above all. Finally, it is the imperfection that make up uniqueness and individuality. Just perfection can be copied, if perfection exists at all.
Wabi-Sabi celebrates cracks (e.g. see the pic of bowl with gold-filled cracks), crevices and all the other marks that time, weather and loving use leave behind.
It reminds us that we are all just transient beings on this planet and that we will return to dust at the end like the entire material world.
Wabi-sabi is not just a Concept, but also an aesthetic and a worldview.
Simply, an intuitive way of Living reflecting the Japanese “mindfulness culture” and in particular “yugon”.
The latter stands for an awareness of the universe that triggers deep emotional responses impossible to express verbally.
Translated literally wabi means lonely, miserable and feeling lost. Just in combination with the term: sabi the meaning is uncovered – being old, mature and showing patina.
Not the obvious beauty is the ideal but hidden (covered up) beauty. Harsh simplicity that reveals appeal / charm to understanding/knowing people (like Connaisseur in French) and nobless hidden in the envelop of unimpressiveness is regarded as true beauty.
In den Wäldern drüben,
tief unter der Last des Schnees,
ist letzte Nacht
ein Pflaumenzweig erblüht.
In the woods over there,
deep under the weight of the snow,
a branch of plum blossomed last night.
Hanami (short-living cherry blossom on trees that don´t grow cherry fruits) but also plum blossom arms are symbols for transience and therefore, also for a young, honorable dead – traditionally among Samurai but also in general related to seppuko (suicide to save one`s Honor and the one of the family, which is still practiced today).
Well, I don´t want to let you go with dark thoughts…in the contrary!
Please, keep in mind you are perfectly imperfect. Outside beauty is by far less valuable than the inner one. Stay pur and authentic, just be you.
And if someone is really interested in you, he/she will be empathic and will take her/his time to get to know you and recognize you – uncovering your beauty. You´ve deserved such kind of special person – who cannot be fooled by polished, shiny surfaces – because you are truely beautiful.