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"...stay young and invincible..."

Freitag, 27. Mai 2016

the magic we see(k)

It's a known fact of physics, that energy never disappears. It does change it's form, varies it's function, alters and transits, but energy never vanishes into thin air or dissolves into nothing. The concept of Karma reflects this physical law very specifically. Every emotion, every deed, every thought you send out to the world and the universe itself, will find it's way back to you. 
Somehow, someday.
Karma means, that you get, what you give. The basic principle of cause and effect, action and reaction.
At first this idea may sound more logical than magical, but if you really think about it, Karma is the origin of any kind of magic. If you believe in magic, you create magic yourself, if you don't, seeking it will be pointless and an endless one way-road. You need to believe in magic before you can find it, see it, experience it. Then and only then you will not just have created magic, you will be able to see it in everything and everyone, because magic is here. It surrounds us like oxygen, it inhabits every cell and fiber of every being. Magic can be found in every tiny grain of this universe. It is in all the stories we tell to pass the time and in every single moment we experience. It helps us, guides our every movement and even fixes the tiny often unnoticed fractures this world inflicts on our hearts. 

photography by hiroko and me.

Freitag, 1. Januar 2016

be good

The night was full of haze and noises. 
Bright lights mixed with sparkling dots and quick fainting colors. Blue, red and yellow assorted in a grey mist. 
We walked home, accompanied by an aura of peculiar excitement, which was inhabited by a sense of nostalgia and this special sadness only time can cure.
It was time we found; 
Not on the street or in the promises of a new year.
 We found time for childhood-memories and almost forgotten hope, as we watched E.T. .

There is something timeless about it's aesthetics. 
Something beautiful that pours right into your heart, and makes you realize, how many thoughts and memories you left behind. Thoughts and memories not destroyed by time, but slightly covered by it's invisible dust.
You tend to forget those things while growing up, while watching too many films, reading too many random stories and being distracted by life itself.

How beautiful is the thought of being this connected to a friend, that you feel all their love, pain and even hunger, thirst and desire for knowledge. 
That there is literally a physical and psychic connection between the two of you.
These kind of connections do exist, binding us together like most fragile, invisible heartstrings.
They might not be as strong as illustrated in the film, but they are present and you can feel them every time you stand still; still in one moment and lean in very carefully.

Donnerstag, 31. Dezember 2015

old years' melancholia

New Years Eve is always one of the strangest and most curios days. 

It is the last day of this year. 
The year itself feels as old as time at this point. It has been patient and tolerant. It had to be, to survive all the accusations, defamations and insults of it's harsh critics. To live through all the vulgarities of the people, that it so generously provided with 365 days. 
Now the old year looks back at it's work and is quite content despite all the horrors, weirdness and catastrophes it saw. After all, there have been good moments as well. Moments filled with laughter, incredible happiness and almost impossible love.
There have been worse years. Better years as well, to be completely honest, but a year can only do so much.
Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. 
It worked through all of it, and is about to lay it's weary head to rest and die.
It is time to end it's time. 
Now and finally, cut-off from all hopes, expectations and strong impulses; it remains just a another year in a long line of years past and years to come.
Nothing special, but nothing ordinary either. 
A year is a year. 
Nothing more and nothing less.
It only provides us with time and it is up to us to decide what to do with the days, hours and seconds given to us.

Photograph by eve arnold and me.

Sonntag, 12. Juli 2015


We were sunday-children this weekend. Flimsy and unburdened. 
Just for a few moments. We invented games, remembered old ones and talked about the sound of a common sunday-afternoon. When you remain in silence, you can hear the glimmering cracks of heat meeting the light noise of the wind playing in the leaves while the grass molds slowly into hay. You can hear all kinds of humming and buzzing of natures little creatures and sometimes a light splitting of wood somewhere.
We sought a lot of words in and for this sounds. Some of them complicated, some of them simple, every single one of them wonderful and unique. 
Sometimes we didn't find the right words, so we made some up and isn't that the beauty of language, really?
You can put some weird shaped tiny figures together and combine them to something meaningful. 
Maybe not for everyone and the world, but meaningful to yourself.
You are then the only person, that can make sense out of this "rubbish", absurdity and chaos of letters  on a sheet of paper or in your mind and that is in a way like having a secret with the language itself.
You can choose to share this secret, to keep it or to write down words that everybody understands. Whichever you choose it all leads up to you telling a story.

Beautiful things belong to beautiful souls.

 graphics by andy gilmore; photography by me

Freitag, 27. Dezember 2013

for scientific reason

“All men have stars, but they are not the same things for different people. 
For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems...
 But all these stars are silent. You-You alone will have stars as no one else has them... 
In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars will be laughing when you look at the sky at night...
You, only you, will have stars that can laugh! And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me... 
You will always be my friend. 
You will want to laugh with me. 
And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure...
 It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh” 

- the little prince - 

photography by margaret durow and me
boy in the stars: simon