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Only four days, before Volker will leave to work in Stuttgart, over 2,5 hours away, if you go by train. We haven't been separated for longer than a few days for over 20 years, now. My, does this feel strange. I'm happy, I'm so grateful he will have the job he longed for so much, but still it feels strange to be alone at nights after all those years that I felt nothing can happen to me, because he is there, right next to me, or trying to hush me to bed when I'm writing at night.
I can't count the times he stirred me out of my worlds just by poking me into my sides and having me hover over the chair, because I never heard him coming into the room, even without headphones on. I'm going to miss that, as much as I'm going to miss a reason to restrickt my delta time habits without him. Night is the time I love most. Night is the time I write best. It used to be that way, even when I was a child. Night is my world, my mother, maybe, and when my love won't guide me, it will have me back most probably.
We bought a trolley, yesterday. A huge one with stars and planets on it. Somehow we both never lost that love for outer space and astronomy. Now they are painted on a suitecase to remind him of me. One of many things to do that.
I do know this is only for a few month, before I'll go down there as well, still it scares me to death to be alone with my words all day. I've never felt this way before. I know of the opportunity, of the wonderful telephone calls we will have, of the joy when we meet again, still, there is a big lump in my tummy and it won't go away just by nights on the phone.
I do know this will enhance my writing. Grieve - any form of it - ever has deepened my writing because I pour it there, before it can hurt me too much, but it has already started. Writing Chapter 30 found me wading through fears of loneliness and loss, which came quite handy, because that is exactly what the main character is suffering from.
I do know there will be a lot of poetry written in those month to come and I'm going to close this night with the one I wrote for a performance a few yeras ago, when a drawing containing a reminscence of the last photo taken of Scott's expedition to the pole inspired me
You can hear the rest of it on www.lena-kuntze.de/news/lesung.html (click on the red arrows in the intro and then look for Judith Rau on the next page), yet it will be in German as well. The art that inspired my words, however, will convey in any language, thus I really recomment you to take some time to look around the site. To find the picture that set on my poems please click "opticks/Terra Nova"):
JENSEITS DER WEITE (hasty translation just below the German text)
warten die Geier
auf den Moment des Du
zerfetzen ihn
in Flocken.
Es schneit aufs Ich.
BEYOND THE OPEN SPACE
vultures are waiting
for a moment of
thyself to lacerate
into crystal flakes.
Snow falls upon coenaesthesia.
Funny how difficult it is to translate one's own poetry. I'm not really satisfied, because what is said in simple words in German was transmuted into big words in English. I'm going to think about this for a while. See, words are teasing me even now.
Good night to ye all, a chapter is waiting to be written.
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