some painting

art....

What art offers is space – a certain breathing room for the spirit.

John Updike

sometimes i do actually smile

...

Albtrauf, St.Johann

Niklassee

pasta alla Asia for people in a hurry

yesterday i did this:

1)spaghetti, boil in really well salted water, not al dente, but fairly soft
   drain water off, mix with a good lump of butter in still warm pot.
   stir with black pepper powder.

2) prepare before: large nice ceramic bowl, use a mix of soysauce, brown sugar, black pepper powder,            mixed italian herbs, lemon  juice, a splash of Worcester, a tiny bit of Madeira,
   add excellent green olive oil and a good lot of finely chopped chives.
    (if you don't have these use spring onions)

3) fry finely cut onions golden brown, adding a bit of brown sugar, pepper, oregano.
    (for non vegetarians: you can add bacon sliced in small bits or minced meat.)

4) Stir and mix all parts together. Eat.

unfinished,stage 2; "the destruction of dreams"

i don't know what to say, but i said it. about that. now. something nags and gnaws at the back of my mind.
and i don't know what to do about it. nothing. paint. i think if you pay attention to bitching too much, it will take you in and over. i know the place. been there. i opt for the phoenix method. leave it be. if you must: burn, all, rise out of ashes.

Laurie Anderson - Bodies In Motion (Lyrics)

Laurie Anderson The Beginning Of Memory (Homeland) PL

"a poem is ..", Hilde Domin

A poem is a frozen moment
melted by each reader for themselves
to flow into the here and now.

Hilde Domin, translated from the German by Meg Taylor and Elke Heckel

Joan Baez Peter Schickele Baptism medley 1968

another black day.

all what i do here is irrelevant. it is creating a world around me into which i can retire and where i can recreate.i could just as well go for a walk and talk to the neighbours or to the lady taking my money in the supermarket. what happens happens, and i cannot deny my awareness. today wish i could re-create but i can only be here and listen and wonder .a bad day for all of us. troops marching here and a civilian plane brought down there. all of this and more: so much wasted life. such an insult to reason. such a torture for the heart. where is this "love" we are all talking about? what is stronger, the fire of destruction or the passion of birth and creation, the clouds of hate and greed or the sword of reason? what is stronger, in the long run, the pen or the guns? i spent an evening with friends. but in spite of tiredness, i am sad now. are we humans human, is all this what we call human? then....i really don't know just now. if 'they' are stupid, then 'i' am. and somehow: i don't want to be like this. but i know: my thoughts and words are nothing, just thoughts and words

i am free

i am free

i am the river
i flow
and
i am here

i am the forest,
i whisper,
the wind tickles
my tongue,
words

listen
the jay bird calls
and
the hunter
holds his step

diary, July 15th

your doctor's quote for today: in spite of all the lies i have to hear, truly amidst confusion, suffering and chaos, i have survived as a human and as a spiritual being. i still am near, not only with empathy but with compassion. i am alive. i have failed my children and women more often when they needed me. i have mistreated myself. this is where my borders are these last few years. so please, dear patients, don't try to hurl me out of me into your universe. i will not follow. i will only walk next to you, and i will not carry you.

Antonio Tabucchi...

i read Antonio Tabucchi, Requiem.Uma alucinação. in German. in one go. i am fascinated, enchanted. hallucinative reality, trancelike, absolutely clear and wonderful and exciting with extraordinary awareness and observation. and something i could call love. the only books i can just now remember from recent reading which took me into just only a similar kind of dreamlike experience are Peter Sloterdijk, Der Zauberbaum and and Steve Stern, The frozen Rabbi and Georgia Bing, Molly Moon's incredible book of hypnotism. i love Tabucchi. publicly.

Mandelzoom 8211

E=mc²  ,1905: not enough but

Perlman play's Rachmaninoff 's vocalise

asparagus soup

you need a load of asparagus, at least 1 kg. peel it. boil the peelings in half  selfmade chicken broth (altern.: use veg. soup stock cubes in water) and in (at least) half good white wine.  add a lot of fresh nutmeg, 2-3 slices of a lemon, cane sugar about 2-3 spoons, black pepper, a pinch of salt. boil for 15 minutes. not longer. (will get bitter!)
remove the peelings and the lemon slices, press the juice out through a sieve.
now add more nutmeg and more nutmeg, add salt to taste, a bit more good wine.
use some starch flower, stir with cold water and fresh nutmeg, add to the soup, add a real good chunk of butter, boil and stir again for a moment.
wait for a bit, now the soup should not boil anymore.
then whisk 2-3 egg yolks in.
that's about it.
good appetite.

Sag Aloo (modified, spinach-potato-ginger curry)

Sag Aloo

modified!

·         1 chopped onion, in sesame oil (or ghee if you have it), fry golden brown i a heavy saucepan or wok.

.    add  coriander seeds and cummin seeds each 1/2 teaspoon, cook 1 minute. 

     liquidise another onion in the mixer with 1/2 teaspoon each of chillipowder and coriander powder. add to the saucepan and cook 5 minutes. 

     in the meantime chop about 1 kg fresh spinach or 500 grm frozen spinach in smaller pieces, add to an extra pot with boiling water for 2-3 minutes only for fresh spinach, 5-8 minutes for frozen one. then remove the spinach out o the water and keep it separate.

     at the same time boil 500 grm potatoes, peeled, in about 1cm cubes in salted water, about 10-12 minutes.

     now add spinach and potatoes to the onion-spice-mix, add  1-2 green chillies, finely chopped, 2 teaspoons fenugreek, a 1/2 cinnamom stick, a few cardamom seeds. cook for about another 8-10 minutes.

     for the end, peel a good piece of ginger, at least 50 grm, chop in very fine slices, add this to the pot with about 1/2 can of tomatoes (about 100 grm), just leave it on the still hot oven, simmer only for 10 minutes. 
     
     stir in a bit of ginger powder and a hint of Madras curry powder.

     I like to add a bit of cane sugar, soy sauce and lime or lemon juice to taste.

     the potatoes should be well done of course, but i want my spinach still green.

lamb in the crockpot

lamb in the crockpot ( a clay casserole )

Cut lamb shoulder in cubes, marinate overnight with lemon juice, a lot of fresh thyme, pepper, salt, cane sugar and topped up with good olive oil.
Keep clay casserole in water for 30 mins.
Put all food in casserole, add a few tomatoes in quarters,a few potatoes in slices, an onion or two, a clove of garlic or two, add a few spring onions finely chopped , 10 allspice corns, 6-8 bay leaves, 10-12 corns black pepper, one medium size red chili, a good bit of ginger thinly sliced, a large stick of cinnamom, a table spoon of Ras el Hanout if available(otherwise a bit of cummin powder), a shot of portuguese hot piri piri sauce, a few spoons of Madeira, more cane sugar and lemon juice: put it in the oven, 45 mins at 200 degrees Celsius, then simmer at about 160 degrees for another 1.45 hours. 
You cannot go wrong.

If this is too hot and spicy for you: forget about it, all.
Eat somewhere else.
If you are vegeterian: don't do it.

Pink Floyd - Fearless

David Gilmour in Royal Albert Hall - Coming Back to Life

All I Really Want to Do - Bob Dylan (5/7/65) Bootleg

isn't he a fcn liar...:-), but

patience is not a virtue per se, listening is, here: R. Tagore

Time is endless in thy hands, my lord. 


There is none to count thy minutes. 

Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers. 
Thou knowest how to wait. 

Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower. 

We have no time to lose, 
and having no time we must scramble for a chance. 
We are too poor to be late. 

And thus it is that time goes by 
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, 
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last. 

At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut; 
but I find that yet there is time. 

my office

this the place where i see

patients

if they try too hard to fuck up my mind,

i fuck theirs

and show them eternity

in a pill

i stole this poem

19. since feeling is first by ee cummings

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
–the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

She Belongs to Me - Bob Dylan (5/7/65) Bootleg

She’s got everything she needs
She’s an artist, she don’t look back
She’s got everything she needs
She’s an artist, she don’t look back
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black

You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees
But you will wind up peeking through her keyhole
Down upon your knees

She never stumbles
She’s got no place to fall
She never stumbles
She’s got no place to fall
She’s nobody’s child
The Law can’t touch her at all

She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks
She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks
She’s a hypnotist collector
You are a walking antique

Bow down to her on Sunday
Salute her when her birthday comes
Bow down to her on Sunday
Salute her when her birthday comes
For Halloween give her a trumpet
And for Christmas, buy her a drum

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/de/node/25802#ixzz376nLIgWy

st. johann

new paintings 2014

come dance with me

dream of the petrels,

though kisses can be

like the trace of a serpent

                                                             there is nothing

                                                   only half the truth

                                               no stones on my head

                                                    queen in the prison of my pain

hope fights knowledge

joy of creatures

                                                   
                                                           evening
                                                 (this is not from 2014)

buddha and roses: dream of flying

this is what i see from my bed

darkness

darkness
falls
softly
like snowflakes
on my heart.

i need
your eyes
to see
my light.

i spread
my wings
to make you fly.

but the sky
comes
down.

Peter Gabriel HD - "Mercy Street" - New Blood Orchestra - Live in London

rainy, cold. extremely depressed, but i know why. i cannot let go.

to die and to live

to die is painful until you are dead. i am pre-occupied with living meanwhile.

tat tvam asi

tat tvam asi. my father had long talks with me about this. "this is you"..."you are this".  in my way, this means: "you are me", for me it is a challenge to see in another being that we are connected, a challenge to take on my dark sides and transform and accept hate and love into a spiritual experience of oneness. a difficult journey but rich. it is the foundation of my own ethical background. i do not claim any other.

Itzhak Perlman - Beethoven Violin Romance No. 2 , Op. 50

dream of the petrels

dream of the petrels
though kisses
can be like the trace of a snake

birds of an evening

the sign of aries

heart of creation

multiple universes

http://m.space.com/18811-multiple-universes-5-theories.html

Tree of patience

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.
Khalil Gibran

Sufi Music (Sukun)

everything moves: dance

to rise
against the wind
and fly with the clouds

to cry out
loud
on solid air

to leave
firm ground
and walk on water

to swim
with
the flow

everything
moves:
dance

i love thunderstorms

a thunderstorm at night. clean air. i buried my wife last year. i buried a hope yesterday. no you. now she. in my garden and with ashes of burnt wood. surrounded by luxuriously growing green. a stone on top. now i am the king of my life again. no queen to join. no roses. but clean air, bird song and open roads.

Today...Niklassee

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - Learning To Fly (live 2006) HQ 0815007

Ryuichi Sakamoto - Faraway Song

amor...

Ryuichi Sakamoto : Amore

another sky, another road

a burial

lies....

childhood ends with the first lie?

prison (in process)

Jordi Savall, Mare Nostrum, El Cant dels Aucells

flow

i am a river

i am a river,

obstructed,

in confusion

i am the sea,

fathomless,

i don’t know myself

i am a god,

words move

out of  my fingers

i am lonely.

beauty flows free,

see

nada

The Doors - Touch Me

always loved this

Love is..., Rilke

“Love is a high inducement to the individual to ripen, to become world, to become world for [one’s self] and for another’s sake; it is a great exacting claim upon him [or her], something that chooses him [or her] out and calls one to vast things.”
—Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke with his lover, the painter Baladine Klossowska (Muzot, Switzerland, 1923)

LOREENA McKENNITT - Dante's Prayer

When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

dreams&illusions: §1

a dream is not an illusion.
an illusion is most certainly an illusion.
you know for sure when you are dying of thirst next to a spring under palm trees.
but if you wake up in the morning, then it was just another bad dream.

diary: July 2nd,2014

so tired. i tried to sleep in my clothes. but nasty smelling demons with big sharp teeth pulled me up by my ears and the wisps of hair left, carried me in their claws above a wide and deep and very black abyss. i hooked my fingers in their scaly bellies, pulled my lighter out and started a fire in their arse. they tried to shake me off in pain but then put me back on my bed and left speechlessly screaming in a cloud of burning sulfur. i told them to go to hell. i imagine they did. good evening and good night. i have to pay a visit. now.

L.Cohen....if you don't become the ocean

If you don't become the ocean,
you'll be seasick every day

Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen - Hey, thats no way to say goodbye

you cannot cut

now
i am light
condensed,
silence,
near to the night.
you cannot cut me.

Leonard Cohen Come Healing Live Montreal 2012 HD 1080P

O, gather up the brokenness
Bring it to me now
The fragrance of those promises
You never dared to vow

The splinters that you carried
The cross you left behind
Come healing of the body
Come healing of the mind

And let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb

Behold the gates of mercy
In arbitrary space
And none of us deserving
Of cruelty or the grace

O, solitude of longing
Where love has been confined
Come healing of the body
Come healing of the mind

O, see the darkness yielding

That tore the light apart
Come healing of the reason
Come healing of the heart

O, troubledness concealing
An undivided love
The heart beneath is teaching
To the broken heart above

And let the heavens falter
Let the earth proclaim
Come healing of the altar
Come healing of the name

O, longing of the branches
To lift the little bud
O, longing of the arteries
To purify the blood

And let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb

O let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb

ANOUSHKA SHANKAR - The Voice of the Moon

to meet death

i have to write a poem which i cannot write because i have to dream a dream which i cannot dream. i wake up nearly each night because i cannot go there...i experienced a terrifying loss last year. i went through the void. i came out. i dreamt of meeting somebody whom i could love and share with. it was a dream. i fell into the void again, but mind you, as much as this void is and has always been deep in myself, i am out and here. well,not just here. but how can you write a poem about your most terryfing experience: you meet death and you want to go through the gate, from one moment to the other, not frightened, smiling, filled with longing- and you don't know at all what happened to your mind? i am deeply worried that whatever i should write it will be just like a hollywood film of a very good book, cheap. this is where i am. i am not smiling. and i don't really know how to say this.

#9 Dream - John Lennon (1974)

though i know many words, silence knows more

only parts of the truth