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Es werden Posts vom März, 2013 angezeigt.

The Artist is Present

Marina Abramovic is a perfomance artist. She was born in 1946 in Belgrad, a daughter of partisans in the army of Tito. She was raised to be like a soldier. Her mother never hugged or kissed her in order not to spoil her. Her performances often put her body in the center and are shocking, because they come so close and/or they put the audience in a position to participate, to cross borders. In her performance Rythm 10 she plays with knives and actually hurts herself. In her performance Rythm 0 she gave among others a gun and a bullet to the audience. 6 hours long, the audience could please, torture, ignore her, they were free to use the different objects on her. In the end she was naked and full of blood. Interesting how fast a crowd of people can turn into a mob. For me this is what Abramovic among other things wanted to show with this performance. "She is directly and boldly challenging the audience." In a way she challenges peoples very optimistic view on themselves.

The Ar…

Retracing Happiness - rewritten

I try to retrace happiness - the smell in my aunts stable the smell of the cows my favourite was red and named Mia I used to spend the summers there as a girl, driving the tractor over the fields running across the meadows free and wild feeding the little pigs the calves rubbing their noses against me I don’t remember much happiness but never thought I was not happy I just didn’t know how happiness felt and took what I had for it
I try to retrace happiness - the cool water and the hot sun on my skin when I went swimming with another aunt she threw me into the water so much fun we sun bathed side by side on a blanket I told her stories and looked at her painted toenails she taught me how to swim I ate french fries at the pool with her before she had children of her own she took me and I wanted her to be my mom I don’t remember much happiness but never thought I was not happy I just didn’t know how happiness felt and took what I had for it
the option to choose happiness as a life governing attitude for me it was a…

Regenbogenkino

Ich habe ein neues Lieblingskino, es heißt Regenbogenkino und befindet sich in der Lausitzer Straße in Kreuzberg.
Wir waren heute nachmittag dort und haben, in ein gemütliches Ledersofa gelümmelt, gemeinsam mit Lilly den Film "Der Rabe Socke" gesehen.
Aber im Regenbogenkino gibt es auch erwachsenere Filme, zum Beispiel morgen abend "Django unchained" und demnächst, zu Ostern, Pasolinis "Erstes Evangelium Matthäus".
Das Kino befindet sich in einem bunten Hinterhof der Regenbogenfabrik, direkt neben einer Kita und einer Tischlerei im ersten Stock eines Seitengebäudes. Leinwand, Theke, viele gemütliche Sessel und Sofas, tolles Programm, mit OmU wenn möglich und/oder nötig, und unglaublich nette Mitarbeiter. Zum Beginn von Rabe Socke stellte sich die Kartenverkäuferin vor die Leinwand und gab den Kindern eine kleine Einführung, sie stellte Fragen und die Kinder streckten begeistert ihre Zeigefinger in die Luft oder riefen ihre Antworten in den Raum. Also nich…

Marina Abramovic "What is your purpose in life?"

Today was the day where I dived into inspirational women artists lifes and works, by accident really. Going through posts on Facebook and finding exactly the right counterparts for my mood, for my longing, for my open questions.
This interview with Marina Abramovic is fantastic. She is soooo smart and exceptional. I can not wait to see her movie The Artist is present. I do not know if any of you saw the part, where her former lover and partner Ulay came to the MoMa. She did not know he was coming. Please watch it! It will touch you. She is so amazing, so present, so open and vulnerable. A true artist. A true creator. I understood, that you can only be an artist, a creator in what ever art or field, if you dare being this open and vulnerable. Everything else is a concept.
My day of amazing women! I feel truly inspired and nourished. Thank you Marina Abramovic and Agnes Martin.

Agnes Martin: The best things happen to you when you're alone

The painter Agnes Martin would have been 101 years old today. The interview with her is really inspiring and speaks deeply to everything I believe, to everything I think about.
She lived like a buddhist nun or a mystic in the desert of New Mexico and tried to reduce her live, her art, herself to the essence of life, of being. A mystic and a great artist. In may a new book about her will come out. It was supposed to come out last march, celebrating her 100th birthday. So I hope it will come out in may! I think I might get it.
Another book of writings by her Agnes Martin: Writings/Schriften is unfortunately out of print and if you try to get it second hand, say on Amazon, it will cost  you several hundred euros. Wow! Couldn't they just reprint it? I am sure it is a good book! Hello publishers, I am sure you could make some money with it!
I wanna read it. Does anybody have it and would borrow it to me?

Herero

Herero von Gerhard Seyfried ist ein Roman, der sich mit dem Hereroaufstand 1903 in Namibia beschäftigt.
Es geht darin um den frisch verwitweten Kartographen Carl Ettmann, der im Jahre 1903 von Berlin nach Namibia, das damals noch Deutsch-Südwestafrika hieß,  fährt, um dort vor seiner Trauer zu fliehen. In Windhoek soll er eine Stelle antreten. Kaum ist er aber in Swakopmund gelandet, bricht der Hereroaufstand aus und er wird rekrutiert, in eine Uniform der kaiserlichen Armee gesteckt und befindet sich im Zug Richtung Kampfgebiet.
Zur gleichen Zeit wie er erreicht die Fotografin Cecilie Orenstein das Land. Sie soll Fotos in der deutschen Kolonie für einen Bildband machen, um die Besiedlung dort anzuregen, um Deutschen dieses Land schmackhaft zu machen. Die beiden lernen sich kurz in Swakopmund kennen, finden Gefallen aneinander, dann muss Ettmann an die Front. Kurze Zeit danach bricht auch Cecilie ins Kampfgebiet auf, wobei ihr die Gefahr, in die sie sich begibt, nicht wirklich bewusst…

Spannende neue Bücher - Liste

Heute fiel mir zufällig die Literaturbeilage der neuen Zeit in die Hände, im Büro, ähem, o.k., sie gehört in die Bibliothek dort und ich habe sie mir angeeignet. Aber ich lege sie einfach am Montag, wenn ich wieder hingehe, zurück. Das merkt kein Mensch. Gerade ist Leipziger Buchmesse. Es wird überall von Literaturbeilagen nur so wimmeln. Ich möchte die anderen eigentlich gar nicht sehen, weil ich dann wieder klar und deutlich sehe, dass ich 100 werden könnte und dennoch dieses eine Leben zu kurz sein wird, um alle Bücher zu lesen, die ich lesen möchte.

Folgende Bücher habe ich mir vorgemerkt zur bald möglichen Lektüre:

Taiye SelasiDiese Dinge geschehen nicht einfach so Die Autorin ist eine ghanaisch-nigerianische Afropolitin, in London geboren, in Massachusetts aufgewachsen und lebt heute in Rom. Den deutschen Perlentaucher-Link zum Buch gibts hierUlrich Woelk Was Liebe ist Ich bin mir nicht sicher, ob es mir letztlich gefallen wird, aber der Titel hat mich angesprochen. Es macht den …

Shoe in a tree

In the morning I saw a shoe in the tree while the sky was blue and the sun was shining freedom to write anything

Advice to myself - again

This is the english version, not an exact translation, of a former german post called "Advice to myself". (Please excuse my bad english and I am sure, the zillions of punctuation errors. I swear I will try and find a class to take in it!!!)  
I read an interesting post by Rachel Papers, that made me remember the german text and so the strong urge to write about it again and in English overcame me. There is also the great film Lost in Living by Mary Trunk, that is strongly related to the subject matter. I wrote about it here.
Please everybody who is a creative mom, I am very interested in your experiences and thoughts and everything!


A few months ago, I posted a poem by Louise Erdrich on my Facebook page. It was called: Advice to myself
I exactly recall that morning and the feeling, that it was the perfect poem for me. (By the way it was the poem of the day at Garrisons Keillor's Writer's Almanac . If you subscribe they will send you a fresh poem every morning. Not every …

Apples

We never before had so many apples, the trees hardly could carry them all. Thousands of apples, and what to do with them? We harvested as many as we could. We gave them away; friends and neighbors drowned in our apples, grateful only in the beginning, then: no thanks,
we already have enough. How many can one eat? Get real, I mean: we need a barn, a basement, some place to store apples. We harvested many, but there were more always more. The tree up front was the worst. Laden, I mean packed. They were the best, so delicious, red and green,
the perfect apples for snow whites stepmother. I produced apple sauce and cake and pancakes with apples, juice, you name it. I left some in the little garden house to see: would they give us a taste of harvest upon our return at the beginning of spring, of another life?
(March 5th, 2013)

30 Movies one should see before one dies/30 Filme die man gesehen haben sollte!!

This is a list of all the movies (well almost all the movies) I have seen in my life meaning something to me. I still believe they are all among the best movies ever made! So go, get, watch and enjoy them!!!
I do not give any guarantee for this list being complete. I might add the one or other movie from time to time since I am still watching a lot whenever I get a chance and also, my memory might give me back some I have forgotten right now.
I am always interested in good movies, so tell me what you like to watch!

Whats eating Gilbert Grape One of the best perfomances of Leonardo di Caprio and Jonny Depp I have ever seen. Not to forget the absolutely brilliant Juliette Lewis. She was also in:Kalifornia which is one of my favourite thrillers (and I hate thrillers ususally) but this one is wonderful. Brad Pitt as, well, psycho. Very convincing!Thelma & Louise Talking about Brad Pitt, but even better Harvey Keitel, Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis, who was in another favourite film of …

I don't know

I don’t know this woman who was called my mother once in a world so far away from me, my body does not remember anything anymore. No longer can I walk into the unknown
there is nothing. The “I don’t know” is unknown to me. No secret left. How to be a woman was nothing she taught of course. I can no longer draw her name: Mother into a circle of burning colours, away, the ocean near, somewhere I remember
I was before. I don’t know what I remember from all those years in an universe unknown not familiar at all. Run away stranger, swim to another island, woman of water, woman of tears. Be a mother at last to the stones. I don’t know, if you can
hide in the bushes any longer. If you ever can know who you are, truly, remember the depth of a truth, your name, I don’t know, my mother, the urge to find you is gone. May you remain unknown to me, less pain. For sure. I don’t know! Any woman could be her, even me, and she could be far away
standing in front of me. A land of no meaning, away away from every touch, ever …