For R.
******
A Warm Welcome to 2026...
2nd January 2026, by U.
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There is so much about you
That brings the best out of me.
Just seeing you, being ‘near’ to you,
Feels like a pour-over of happiness,
And inside me everything is singing.
My thoughts don’t rush like the house is on fire.
My worries disappear, and for that moment,
Everything feels warm and absolutely right.
You don’t only give me delight with words,
Your presence in the way it is always there
Gives me so much silent support.
You probably do not even realise
How much harmony for me you carry with you.
In my world that oftentimes feels busy, crazy even,
I feel safe with you. I feel uncredible.
And it is very beautiful how simply being you
Can touch my heart and calm me
In ways nobody else ever can.
Thank you ever so much for that.
I love you.
A very Happy New Year to you.
Ute
References: Photo taken by me.
******
When Your Heart Chooses Peace...
24th of December 2025, by U.
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My darling,
Have you ever felt anger during Christmas time? Or resentment after you have been with people who are supposed to love you but have hurt or ignored your needs? Please let me tell you something, then.
Anger and resentment are not just passing feelings. These emotions are secret weights we burden ourselves with, without even realising it. Those two companions, anger and resentment, are silent thieves, you know? Anger is a fire that consumes us more than it ever burns another. Every resentment carried is a hazard of your energy pulled away from the beautiful you. Every grudge becomes a wall that keeps a harmonious life quite at a distance. Every bitter moment replayed is a cord binding you to the past.
Now close your eyes and place your hand onto your heart. Feel the gentle beats with every breath you take. This, your wonderful heart, is your centre of strength, your quiet fire, your inner sun. It is exactly here where anger, resentment, and hurt have often been stored. And tonight, and not because it is Christmas, we’re going to celebrate this centre. We’re going to try softening the edges and the heaviness it carries at times. Tonight, for this moment of being here with me, you don’t need to solve anything. You don’t have to explain anything. You don’t have to be anywhere. You don’t need to force yourself to something you are not in the mood for. Just breathe a bit, here with me, with this incredible golden sun inside you that is called your heart.
There is something you should know. These feelings, anger and resentment are not only stories in your mind. They can take up space in your body, too. They can become invisible connections to painful situations and people long past. Every time anger is woken again, every time you replay an old resentment again, every time you rehearse the injustice, maybe by hearing the voices that shouted at you or feel the neglect again, you send a piece of yourself back into that moment. Yes, it is like that. Those pieces are lost forever. And this is why you may feel tired sometimes, on those days when you wonder why you feel knackered even though you have not worked more than on other days. On a deeper level, these two companions, as I called them, block your flow that is usually a real force of nature in every sense of the word. When anger and resentment are locked in your heart, you feel quite powerless. But when we can manage to reclaim that extraordinary beauty of yours, your heart radiates like the brightest light.
Tonight, let’s reverse the flow. Let’s talk about forgiveness. Not because the other one deserves it, but because you do. Let’s talk about letting go. Not because it erases what happened to you, but because it sets you free. To do this, something healing must happen first. I explain this not to raise any hurt or to make you sad, please trust me in this. Seeing you sad makes me utterly sad, too. So, let’s both be brave and try.
Allow your memory to bring forth one situation that carries the greatest charge of anger, resentment, or hurt within you. Allow yourself to feel the strong emotions that stir as the situation and the people connected with it appear in your mind. Give yourself a while for it. Breathe. I know this is difficult, and you may feel your tears coming, but simply notice how much of your energy has been washed away every time you rewind to this very part of painful experience.
In the thickness of these highly charged minutes, I want to tell you something. What the people or the situation you see right now took from you, my love, was never yours to lose. Your amazing personality and your ability to love and give cannot be stolen. That is what they missed, seeing the best of you. The best of you is that boy who drives around the old streets of childhood in your fancy car. The best of you is the friend who brings a flower your Mum loved to the house of a football mate. The best of you is the happy and witty and loving you who is entirely himself.
There was a lot of pain during the past decades, I know that. But what they did to you never belonged to you. It belonged to them, and it talks so much more about them than about you. They have never defined you, my love. Never. So, please forgive them. Forgive them for the role they played for you to become this strong and exceptional a man. Silently, thank them for the lessons. Thank them for the growth that made you evolve into that incredible boy you are today. They cannot change; they never will. Accepting this makes it easier to forgive without ever agreeing with their ways of behaviour towards you.
Please see yourself and who you still are. Release them if you can because they cannot help themselves. You, however, have never abandoned your heart. Then let’s free it from the pain you did not choose. There is that beautiful you that will always, always be there. Please see that light. And with the incredible warmth and shine of that light you can be steady and still supportive of them but also steady and supportive and strong and unbelievably proud of yourself.
Merry Christmas, beautiful boy.
I love you.
Yours, Ute
References: Photos taken by me
Have you ever felt anger during Christmas time? Or resentment after you have been with people who are supposed to love you but have hurt or ignored your needs? Please let me tell you something, then.
Anger and resentment are not just passing feelings. These emotions are secret weights we burden ourselves with, without even realising it. Those two companions, anger and resentment, are silent thieves, you know? Anger is a fire that consumes us more than it ever burns another. Every resentment carried is a hazard of your energy pulled away from the beautiful you. Every grudge becomes a wall that keeps a harmonious life quite at a distance. Every bitter moment replayed is a cord binding you to the past.
Now close your eyes and place your hand onto your heart. Feel the gentle beats with every breath you take. This, your wonderful heart, is your centre of strength, your quiet fire, your inner sun. It is exactly here where anger, resentment, and hurt have often been stored. And tonight, and not because it is Christmas, we’re going to celebrate this centre. We’re going to try softening the edges and the heaviness it carries at times. Tonight, for this moment of being here with me, you don’t need to solve anything. You don’t have to explain anything. You don’t have to be anywhere. You don’t need to force yourself to something you are not in the mood for. Just breathe a bit, here with me, with this incredible golden sun inside you that is called your heart.
There is something you should know. These feelings, anger and resentment are not only stories in your mind. They can take up space in your body, too. They can become invisible connections to painful situations and people long past. Every time anger is woken again, every time you replay an old resentment again, every time you rehearse the injustice, maybe by hearing the voices that shouted at you or feel the neglect again, you send a piece of yourself back into that moment. Yes, it is like that. Those pieces are lost forever. And this is why you may feel tired sometimes, on those days when you wonder why you feel knackered even though you have not worked more than on other days. On a deeper level, these two companions, as I called them, block your flow that is usually a real force of nature in every sense of the word. When anger and resentment are locked in your heart, you feel quite powerless. But when we can manage to reclaim that extraordinary beauty of yours, your heart radiates like the brightest light.
Tonight, let’s reverse the flow. Let’s talk about forgiveness. Not because the other one deserves it, but because you do. Let’s talk about letting go. Not because it erases what happened to you, but because it sets you free. To do this, something healing must happen first. I explain this not to raise any hurt or to make you sad, please trust me in this. Seeing you sad makes me utterly sad, too. So, let’s both be brave and try.
Allow your memory to bring forth one situation that carries the greatest charge of anger, resentment, or hurt within you. Allow yourself to feel the strong emotions that stir as the situation and the people connected with it appear in your mind. Give yourself a while for it. Breathe. I know this is difficult, and you may feel your tears coming, but simply notice how much of your energy has been washed away every time you rewind to this very part of painful experience.
In the thickness of these highly charged minutes, I want to tell you something. What the people or the situation you see right now took from you, my love, was never yours to lose. Your amazing personality and your ability to love and give cannot be stolen. That is what they missed, seeing the best of you. The best of you is that boy who drives around the old streets of childhood in your fancy car. The best of you is the friend who brings a flower your Mum loved to the house of a football mate. The best of you is the happy and witty and loving you who is entirely himself.
There was a lot of pain during the past decades, I know that. But what they did to you never belonged to you. It belonged to them, and it talks so much more about them than about you. They have never defined you, my love. Never. So, please forgive them. Forgive them for the role they played for you to become this strong and exceptional a man. Silently, thank them for the lessons. Thank them for the growth that made you evolve into that incredible boy you are today. They cannot change; they never will. Accepting this makes it easier to forgive without ever agreeing with their ways of behaviour towards you.
Please see yourself and who you still are. Release them if you can because they cannot help themselves. You, however, have never abandoned your heart. Then let’s free it from the pain you did not choose. There is that beautiful you that will always, always be there. Please see that light. And with the incredible warmth and shine of that light you can be steady and still supportive of them but also steady and supportive and strong and unbelievably proud of yourself.
Merry Christmas, beautiful boy.
I love you.
Yours, Ute
References: Photos taken by me
******
An Evening to Remember- The Spirit of the Garba
27th of September 2025, by U.
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I'm sharing some photographs and videos of a most incredible evening in Berlin.
I can truly state, from the bottom of my heart, hat this was a journey of love. Neverending love. Please enjoy. Disclaimer: Photos and videos all taken by me . |
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I didn't need to look for directions to arrive safely at the venue. The street and the area leading to the evening was full of beautiful people, all heading to the place. Berlin, when ever have you had so much colour and vibrance in town? I loved it!
This was the entry gate. The evening was hosted by Gujarati Samaj Berlin e.V.
These two girls were among the people I talked to for a moment. They stand for everyone I have met that night. I felt extremely welcomed. Everybody was so friendly and warm-hearted. And they smiled. Smiles, smiles, smiles and sparkling eyes in every face I looked at.
This was one of my highlights. I was so fascinated and mesmerised by the music, the dances. The sound the Dandias made, the interaction of people playing them, the rhythm they created- I was truly blown away. And I danced with them! Can you believe that? So amazing!
The spirit of the Garba, I think this describes it. Everyone is dancing. Women, men, Children, no matter what age. It is so uniting, it touches my heart so deeply.
I didn't know it then but learned after the weekend- there were some highly important guests of honour present. This is the Ambassador of India to Germany, Ajit Gupte, making a speech to all of us. He switched between Gujarati and English, I liked that.
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There was a lot of food, they called it the Food Court. The smell of the spices, oh my goodness! I had samosas, laddoos, and chai. It was delicious, and the chai was so fantastic.
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This was in the food hall. Please see the colours. Please notice the connection. Listen to the chitter and chatter and laughter. It must be like this when people celebrate at home, in the streets of their hometowns maybe. Everyone is invited, they share their food so that nobody stays hungry, no matter if they could contribute or not. That's what I imagine at least.
And, finally, the prayers. I don't know yet the meaning of them, or how this is bonded to Navrati, but I promise to learn. They prayers have an immense personal sense to anyone I have seen here. It was beautiful, it was impressive, and it was full of affection. For a moment, every single person who knew the pryers was absorbed in thoughts and deep gratitude. It absolutely touched my heart.
Thank you so much for such a wonderful time, for all the impressions, the kindness, and for allowing me a glimpse into this world, which is also a part of you.
Ute
******
Can you hear it?
10th of September 2025, by U.
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There is a birthday again, a most important one. It is your Mum's day.
Your Mum, I'm sure, is telling you this.
Can you hear it, my love?
My darling boy,
My heart is a well, just like yours.
It is wherever you are, always will be.
My heart is a well, with beautiful fountains.
With fountains glistering in the sun,
Taking us back to the best of our memories.
The well is huge, and the water is warm,
The room in it is filled with your favourite things,
With enough space to keep every single one.
The walls of the well are painted in warm colours,
It stands in a garden full of beautiful flowers,
Because that is how you always make me feel.
In the garden with the flowers and the gras
lingers a delicious smell, so familiar and yet intense.
It is the scent of your skin from when you were a boy
To when you had become a young man,
So very unique in its everlasting sweetness.
The sound of your laugher and that of your voice
Are the loveliest melodies played in the garden.
They fill every corner, and I can hear the differences
in those tunes as you have grown and learned from life.
My heart is a well, and it is all of you, too.
It is all of you, all of me, and all our moments
To be found in one special place, forever there.
And it will never ever stop beating, my darling boy.
My heart is a well, just like yours.
It is wherever you are, always will be.
My heart is a well, with beautiful fountains.
With fountains glistering in the sun,
Taking us back to the best of our memories.
The well is huge, and the water is warm,
The room in it is filled with your favourite things,
With enough space to keep every single one.
The walls of the well are painted in warm colours,
It stands in a garden full of beautiful flowers,
Because that is how you always make me feel.
In the garden with the flowers and the gras
lingers a delicious smell, so familiar and yet intense.
It is the scent of your skin from when you were a boy
To when you had become a young man,
So very unique in its everlasting sweetness.
The sound of your laugher and that of your voice
Are the loveliest melodies played in the garden.
They fill every corner, and I can hear the differences
in those tunes as you have grown and learned from life.
My heart is a well, and it is all of you, too.
It is all of you, all of me, and all our moments
To be found in one special place, forever there.
And it will never ever stop beating, my darling boy.
***
A very happy birthday to your lovely Mum.
Ute
References: Everything is written and made by me.
A very happy birthday to your lovely Mum.
Ute
References: Everything is written and made by me.
******
A Journey for Love
20th of May 2024, by U.
I would like to tell you about some highlights of my journey for and to love. In pictures, videos, and writing.
References: All content (photographs, videos) taken or recorded by me.
The Arrival
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A hundred thousand welcoms on the way to the apartment. Yes, that's what it was. I felt very welcome and very excited to be on visit again.
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All over Birmingham, oh so inspiring, were signs of the AJ Bell Great run in which I was a participant. When I saw the signs, the preparations, the closed roads too, my heartbeat literally kicked up a notch! In the video I once again recorded one of my most favourite views in the centre of the town. I love the bustle of the very modern Birmingham with all the shops and cafes melting together with the amazing old history of the citiy.
The Running Event
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The day of the run. Oh my god! I felt so, so tensed in the morning. I felt excited. I felt ready. All at the same time.
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Yes! And yes for afters!
Birmingham Canals
Raggle Taggle Titterington? How funny are those English people?
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I met twice with a very lovely couple having a Fudge stall on their barge. I bought some, and it was so yummy!
Coffee break at the Mailbox. After that I walked along the canal.
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So wonderful to walk the paths and relax.
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I love being at the canals. It is a beautiful area of the city with restaurants and cafes along the water. It is great for runners, too. Aside from the magic of nature, I was here for a certain reason. This very special visit will have a place in my heart forever. And I will have a spot to go where my love is.
Impressions from the City
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Such a wonderful city. I often can't believe how beautiful it is. |
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The Library
The Library of Birmingham is one of the most exeptional buildings in the world when it comes to its architecture, interior, and content.
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I love it there. Favourite place.
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I decided to go Shakespearian that day.
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Didn't I take a cool photo?
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The weather was so splendid during my visit. I honestly wondered how I deserved that. On the rooftop of the library.
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Some more from the rooftop.
The Custard Factory
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The Custard Factory is a pretty cool area. Artsy. Interesting folks. Food, music, bars. Always something going on.
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The Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery
Gas Hall
Gas Hall
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Due to maintenance work the main part of the museum was closed. Nonetheless, the Gas Hall houses a brilliant collection by the Victorian Radicals. I have seen most works in London already, but I was amazed once again! The presentation was quite differently from the Tate London and nevertheless so worth a visit!
She is back. The beautiful Proserpine by Dante Gabriel Rosetti is back in Birmingham. As you can read, model for the painting was Jane Morris, the wife of William Morris.
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I was unbelievably delighted to discover this original wallpaper design by Morris. I have a huge print of ‘Jasmine’ in my living room! I wasn’t expecting to find it here, hence you can imagine my glee!
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To be continued....
******
Most special day of the year again!
Happy Birthday, Honey.
Happy Birthday, Honey.
8th of April, 2024, by U.
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My Lotus Flower
Only once in life you cross paths
with someone who instantly makes you feel unique, alive, healed, and at home.
Only you know what makes your heart feel at home. Only you can understand your inner voice, telling you this is your special one.
This unique person encourages your dreams and rejoicees at what you have achieved without a touch of jealousy.
They only want you to see and be yourself, and you want the same for them, that's the wonderful secret of love.
They are challenging, bright, with great humour and, most importantly, have an immeasurable amount of love to give.
You cannot help but feel genuinely happy in their presence, with the knowledge that, with them, you truly found love.
Thank you for being my lotus flower.
Happy birthday, my love.
Ute
- Photos taken by me -
Only once in life you cross paths
with someone who instantly makes you feel unique, alive, healed, and at home.
Only you know what makes your heart feel at home. Only you can understand your inner voice, telling you this is your special one.
This unique person encourages your dreams and rejoicees at what you have achieved without a touch of jealousy.
They only want you to see and be yourself, and you want the same for them, that's the wonderful secret of love.
They are challenging, bright, with great humour and, most importantly, have an immeasurable amount of love to give.
You cannot help but feel genuinely happy in their presence, with the knowledge that, with them, you truly found love.
Thank you for being my lotus flower.
Happy birthday, my love.
Ute
- Photos taken by me -
******
Happy Easter, my love.
Easter Sunday 2024, by U.
I'm sending this Easter greetings to you
because I want you to know, my love,
that I'm not only very proud of you,
I'm also always very inspired by you.
You are much stronger and braver
than you will ever believe.
I'm sending this Easter greetings to you
because I want you to know, my love,
that I am here, and I won't leave.
I'm always here to look after you,
and I'm here when you need a place
where you are deeply loved.
And, if I have to,
I will always go first.
I will go first and write,
even if you do not reply.
I will go first and talk,
even if you don't have time
to listen.
I will go first and ask,
even if you don't expect
a question.
I will look after you,
all the time and until I die.
Furthermore, I will always be
the first one reminding you of your beauty,
even if you can't see it.
You are my forever.
I miss you, Honey.
Happy Easter to you, my love.
Ute
because I want you to know, my love,
that I'm not only very proud of you,
I'm also always very inspired by you.
You are much stronger and braver
than you will ever believe.
I'm sending this Easter greetings to you
because I want you to know, my love,
that I am here, and I won't leave.
I'm always here to look after you,
and I'm here when you need a place
where you are deeply loved.
And, if I have to,
I will always go first.
I will go first and write,
even if you do not reply.
I will go first and talk,
even if you don't have time
to listen.
I will go first and ask,
even if you don't expect
a question.
I will look after you,
all the time and until I die.
Furthermore, I will always be
the first one reminding you of your beauty,
even if you can't see it.
You are my forever.
I miss you, Honey.
Happy Easter to you, my love.
Ute
******
Happy Birthday to your lovely Mum.
10 September 2023, by U.
Happy to your Mum. It is that day of the year again, her most special day.
Try to remember the small things about your Mum.
Try to remember when that photograph of her was taken. Try to remember what she said when you showed up in the kitchen in the morning or when you returned from university in the afternoon. Try to remember how she made your tea or how she spoke and smiled at you.
There are so many things, stories so small yet so adorable. After someone beloved died, someone as beloved as your Mum, these stories become your ally, your partner in crime so to say.
Sometimes they make you sad or melancholic, but tears are nothing to be ashamed of. Cry when you feel you must. But more often, those stories will make you happy, and then dance with them.
Dance with them to the sweet music they play for you. Dance with them and do not care whether you look funny or not. The symphonies your Mum wrote are always only composed for you, only for you to listen and to decide to share. Her story is yours too, and it is an extraordinary, one, my love.
Try to remember the small things about your Mum.
Try to remember when that photograph of her was taken. Try to remember what she said when you showed up in the kitchen in the morning or when you returned from university in the afternoon. Try to remember how she made your tea or how she spoke and smiled at you.
There are so many things, stories so small yet so adorable. After someone beloved died, someone as beloved as your Mum, these stories become your ally, your partner in crime so to say.
Sometimes they make you sad or melancholic, but tears are nothing to be ashamed of. Cry when you feel you must. But more often, those stories will make you happy, and then dance with them.
Dance with them to the sweet music they play for you. Dance with them and do not care whether you look funny or not. The symphonies your Mum wrote are always only composed for you, only for you to listen and to decide to share. Her story is yours too, and it is an extraordinary, one, my love.
******
My Lovely....
3 September 2023, by U.
All photos taken by me (Samsung Galaxy S 23 Ultra)
All photos taken by me (Samsung Galaxy S 23 Ultra)
My Lovely..., this was what many people called me when I visited Birmingham once again. Any time I asked a question, dived into a conversation with people there, this was most of the time their term for me.
And for me, that term does not only present the extraodinary kindness, openness of hearts, and eager willingness to listen to me, the term also translates how I felt during this second visit of mine.
This is your city, my love, this is your area. And this alone means the world to me. I could not be more open to anything that is connected to the town, to anything that is, for me, inextricably linked with you. Loving you will always let me feel like this, like you have known me for so many years.
And for me, that term does not only present the extraodinary kindness, openness of hearts, and eager willingness to listen to me, the term also translates how I felt during this second visit of mine.
This is your city, my love, this is your area. And this alone means the world to me. I could not be more open to anything that is connected to the town, to anything that is, for me, inextricably linked with you. Loving you will always let me feel like this, like you have known me for so many years.
My journey started in Hamburg. This is the arrival at Hamburg Central Station, greeted by a statue of Atlas, a figure from the Greek mythology that recenly returned to Hamburg.
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We were well over an hour late. I'm sorry for looking mildly annoyed with the airline. I simply did not want to miss a minute of my holiday.
And along it goes through the English countryside. I loved the train ride. CrossCountry says it all...very enjoyable.
I looooooved it.......
I was pretty excited, and it was so pleasant!
I was pretty excited, and it was so pleasant!
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Ozzy! There he is! I was delighted to see him at Birmingham New Street Station. I'm very happy he found his home there after being the hero of the Commonwealth Games.
I needed to add this. I was amazed that Ozzy was moving his head and tail at my arrival. So, I filmed him!
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Lovely flower arrangements all around town, here near the hotel. I wish I could have two of those taken with me to place them next to my front door.
I was given the most beautiful and spacious room, I actually could dance in it. So great!
Look at this view, it is next morning's outlook from my room window. Beautiful, isn't it?
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The Grand Hotel Birmingham honestly has the most beautiful rooms and interior, Isaac's will never cease to amaze me. The hotel is, like the name suggests, absolutely grand. Additional to that, the staff, whether you meet them at reception or at the meals, are incredibly caring and kind. My special thanks go to Sarina, who was so lovely, chatty, and welcoming every morning.
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First real day of adventure. The weather had changed to wonderful, so the summer dresses I brought with me were out! We have a saying which goes "If Angels travel the weather will be fine". I felt like this this morning. Towards the end of the week, I did not behave like an angel at all. I'm very sorry for that. More than you can imagine, my love.
There was a charity day at Birmingham Cathedral. I liked the idea. It is very nice to look after those that are not as lucky as we are. People could get food there, items for their personal hygiene, clothes, coffee. I also think they liked to be looked after, to get heard maybe. They had gathered on the lawn, lying in te grass and chatting.
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Whoever this is, I liked the pose! Hello, hello!
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Finally, I was able to try some of your recommendations of Cafès. Thank you so much for that, my love. I loved the coffee, the interior and the liveliness at Second Cup Coffee at High Street. So tasty!
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A lot is going on in the city, constructions everywhere. I loved the reflections in the glass fronts and how the old historic bulidings sit next to the very modern ones.
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Here we see one of my most favourite places in town, the library embedded in the other buildings. Recently, the building celebrated its 10th birthday. Such an iconic and outstanding architecture. I will always, always, always go there when I'm in Birmingham. A visit without seeing the library is unthinkable for me.
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We had a warm day, hence there was much fun going on at the fountain. I stood there for quite a while, watching the children having a happy time. Hearing the kids shrieking and seeing them frolicking about made me smile, so nice to make the fountains their own and turn them into a big pool in a big city!
Loooooooooooovlyyyyy! That is all I can say.
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Two shots from inside the library. Hello Golden Boys! Hello me.
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I liked my walk along the canal very much. It was a truly beautiful day in any regard. I liked the scent in the air, the clutter of coffee cups from the restaurants, and the barges as they travel on the water. My deepest wish is to take a walk there with you next time. That would be so wonderful.
On to The Mailbox, there is currently an exhibition with artworks by actors and musicians. Here you can see works by Jonny Depp. I was pretty surprised because I did not know Jonny Depp was into art. As displayed here he was, painting Heath Ledger, Bob Marley, River Phoenix, and Hunter S Thompson.
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On the left, creations by Bob Dylon. On the right you can see Paul Kenton's painintgs.
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My next stop was also a very interesting one. I visited the Jewellery Quarter. I liked the shops, the street scenes, the whole area. Jewellery is a big business in the UK, and here is the heart of it. I was lucky to talk to shop owners, and with them I have met people who were very passionate about their field of work, very knowledgeable too, and extremely obliging.
This is such a great city!
This is such a great city!
Again, it was wonderful weather. During my stay I literally felt as if the weather did everything in its power to make me happy! Look at the blue sky in the photos. Oh, and I found the details in the shape of diamonds adorned to the benches in the area absolutely adorable.
Later that day I arrived at St. Pauls. Whilst making my entry in the guest book, I met the vicar of St. Paul's and we chatted. What a lovely conversation we had! I am truly and honestly amezed by the friendliness and kindness of the people in your town, and how they show an interest in me as a stranger. Hats off to them!
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St. Paul's from the inside. There are some intriguing things I need to find out next ime when I am in Birmingham. This is one of them: I have never seen church pews like that, compartments with doors like that. I go into research next time to learn more about the style and maybe the meaning of a certain epoch. Let's see!
I am not religious. But a church, for me, is a place to be grateful, to think, to remember beloved members of your and my family. And so, I sat in the bench, feeling so blessed to have you around, to have found love with you.
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And once again I arrived at having absolutely delicious food! This is Saint Kitchen Birmingham. I am a big fan of bagels, even though I don't have them too often. But this one, I chose "Shawarma Pulled Mushroom Bagel", was the tastiest I have ever eaten. Oh my goodness, it was so yummy! It was another recommendation from you, thank you ever so much, my love. This restaurant is definitely again a part in my next visit.
There are beautiful streets around St. Paul's, take a walk and you will see what I mean.
I always wanted to take a photo of this Cutie. This time I took the chance. I don't know whether he has a name too, like Ozzy has, but he is an adorable little boy, isn't he?
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St. Martin in the Bullring.
I like how majestically the church elevates itself in the background, how modernity and traditions are going hand in hand in this beautiful city. It is so different to London to a great effect. You can get everything in Birmingham: culture, wonderful art, education, conversation, sports, shopping at the designer stores. Anything you want and need is there in a very sophisticated way. But the people are more visible than in any other city in Englang I have been to so far. They are more present, more "hey, this is my city where I love to live, come take a look!" They give up their anonymity for me; I think this describes it best. I have never experienced this before. Of course, my eagerness to learn and understand the city and its people has to do with you. The closeness to you is overwhelming and what I want the most.
I like how majestically the church elevates itself in the background, how modernity and traditions are going hand in hand in this beautiful city. It is so different to London to a great effect. You can get everything in Birmingham: culture, wonderful art, education, conversation, sports, shopping at the designer stores. Anything you want and need is there in a very sophisticated way. But the people are more visible than in any other city in Englang I have been to so far. They are more present, more "hey, this is my city where I love to live, come take a look!" They give up their anonymity for me; I think this describes it best. I have never experienced this before. Of course, my eagerness to learn and understand the city and its people has to do with you. The closeness to you is overwhelming and what I want the most.
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Two photos from the centre. Loooooove it!
I have never heard such a funny street name, except in the Harry Potter books. What a winner!
I have never heard such a funny street name, except in the Harry Potter books. What a winner!
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This is another building I wanted to photograph since I visited Birmingham for the first time. Finally, I made it to Selfridges. I love the architecture and the state-of-the-art design. And I love the shots I took.
I had a mission at Selfriges. In the men's departments I looked for a curduroy jacket for you. I visited all the menswear stores inside. They had similar versions of your blue jacket, but none was as beautiful as yours. No luck with a curduroy jacket, I would have loved finding one for you and telling you about it.
Jimmy Choo is always on my list too when there is a store. I needed you so much for helping me choose, in the end I decided for the pair in the foreground with the beautiful name "Naria" and the matching bag named "Bon Bon" on the right in the middle.
Jimmy Choo is always on my list too when there is a store. I needed you so much for helping me choose, in the end I decided for the pair in the foreground with the beautiful name "Naria" and the matching bag named "Bon Bon" on the right in the middle.
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Last moment in the hotel, I felt absolutely devastated. You know why, my love. Even Ozzy looked righteous disapproving. And I totally deserved it.
I don't know what he was singing about, but the song mirrored my mood. I'm so in love with you, and I feel so unhappy right now. I need you, Honey.
This is the last photo I took. It is from the saddest day ever when I had to leave Birmingham. Sitting in the Avanti West Train back to London was the hardest journey I have had to manage so far. I did not want to leave you, Honey. And yet I'm here with my puffy-from-crying face. Please let us talk.
You are my love.
Please, always remember that, Honey.
**
Please, always remember that, Honey.
**
******
Is Love enough?
1st June 2023, by U.
Love is Enough
William Morris
Love is enough: though the World be a-waning,
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,
Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder
And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass'd over,
Yet their hands shall not tremble,
their feet shall not falter;
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter
These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.
Love is everything. I believe in love, and I will never stop loving you.
Ute
******
BHX.
A love journey in pictures.
.23rd April 2023, by U.
Photos all taken by me (Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra).
Photos all taken by me (Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra).
The Hotel.
The Grand Hotel Birmingham
The Grand Hotel Birmingham
My room, 5th floor. Lovingly and with care decorated space. Very detailed too. I loved it, very much. One of my suitcases is on the bed. I had another one with my business things with me.
My bathroom. A complete match in style and detail with the rest of the house.
Details...loved that old thelephone, we had a similar one at home in my childhood.
Me, in that beautiful room...
View from my room, 5th floor.
The staircase.
Isaacs. American style, and delicious food!
The bar at Isaacs at breakfast time. Instead of alcoholic beverages it is coffee, coffee, coffee, and tea!
...like this
...or this.
To reach the hotel I had had to walk daily across the yard of St. Philp's Cathedral.
Inside St. Philip's. Pillars like in the Grand hotel.
The Library.
Library of Birmingham
Architecture extraordinaire! I always wanted to see this buildng. I always wanted to have a look insinde and spend time there.
I always wanted to go there with you.
I always wanted to go there with you.
Beautiful, right? Old and new together, like building a family.
I found this, and it made me love my day at the library even more.
I was very pleased to find a shelf with German books too. Quite a lot were familiar to me, I had read them.
The Writers Directory. I discoverered those voulumes too. I had a look inside.
For my name there was only one similarity. I also looked for yours, there were two entries. For reasons of privacy I won't show them here.
But great, right? Maybe we have relatives that write books?
But great, right? Maybe we have relatives that write books?
I love to be with books. The interior was so impressive, so modern and stylish too. I was in my element, felt really at the perfect place here.
Look at those pleasing lines of the design. I think they are stunning.
Me, insde the library.
Books, books, books....
Favourite place in the library. Such great area for learners.
I promised myself that, when I return in Summer, I will spend a morning with studying here.
I promised myself that, when I return in Summer, I will spend a morning with studying here.
Another angle. How wonderful....
Not even the rain could take away my entchantment with that place. A closeup with a view.
The Secret Garden. High above. It must be lovely sitting here on Spring or Summer days.
The Golden Boys. I said hello to Matthew, James, and William.
I learned from you that this sculpture was also by the hand of William Bloye.
I learned from you that this sculpture was also by the hand of William Bloye.
Brindley Place in rain.
Decorative bunting in town, ready for the coronation festivities I suppose?
The Black Country.
Black Country Living Museum.
This day was a very meaningful day for me. If not the most important. What I saw and was fortunate to enjoy was the closeness to you, your Mum, and your Dad. I cannot say how grateful I am to have had the chance to explore this.
Historical. And very honest.
A very windy but beautifully sunny day.
Everywhere, all over the place, you can discover and walk into small houses where people used to live in. More so, in many of these small houses you can meet actors who act the famlies that lived in the exact place. I heard great stories, had amazing talks, and many of my questions could be answered.
Briquettes, anyone?
I loved this sight. What a treasury!
An old weigh station. Can you imagine how many people collected their supliesfrom here?
Who were those people? Amazing to think about this...
Who were those people? Amazing to think about this...
Oh, she was so lovely! She acted the woman who once lived in that house.
She told 'her' love story which was a very moving one that ended with a sad death. I was very, very touched by her words.
She told 'her' love story which was a very moving one that ended with a sad death. I was very, very touched by her words.
Your Mum's sewing machine, Honey?
How real ist this? Amazing!
My grandmother had made similar chrochet work or knitted blankets when I was little.
My grandmother had made similar chrochet work or knitted blankets when I was little.
Closeup of the charges from back then.
What a funny guy! As I have learned from you, he's wearing a Staffordshire uniform.
I was fascinated by his explanation about the bride who fled in her carriage.
I was fascinated by his explanation about the bride who fled in her carriage.
Elephant And Castle.
I loved the beautiful tiling on the facade.
"Would you like any 'oice'?"
Whatever thing that is on the left, I thougt it was impressive and quiet great.
And a look inside of that workshop. It all looks very real to me, very authentic. Like the people who worked there all day long were just out for fitting repaired parts to the barges or something like that.
Didn't I catch a beautiful day?
The wind blew and made the clouds look like in a painting. How wonderful a sight was this!
The wind blew and made the clouds look like in a painting. How wonderful a sight was this!
More stunning architecture, lined up.
This is Peter's favourite photo. My Father and Peter were fascinated by the anchor forge.
What a power of forging this one.
I liked Isaiah's blue post box.
I liked Isaiah's blue post box.
Another one...
Surroundings...
This is my favourite photo I took.
Standing there and looking down to the scenery I felt so happy, I felt so much love. It was right to come to Birmingham.
Standing there and looking down to the scenery I felt so happy, I felt so much love. It was right to come to Birmingham.
Also nice, isn't t?
The bus came bombing down the street, and I was very happy to catch it.
Because...look at the direction it was going!
Because...look at the direction it was going!
Another gleaming vehicle.
There was a lesson in full flow.
Maybe Mrs. Griffiths? She appeared quite strict, and her voice was carrying. I couldn't disturb her teaching, of course, and just peeked through the door for a snapshot of her. .
Maybe Mrs. Griffiths? She appeared quite strict, and her voice was carrying. I couldn't disturb her teaching, of course, and just peeked through the door for a snapshot of her. .
I bought some flower seeds for my garden in the museum's shop.
I'll tell when they have turned into flowers. Can't wait!
I'll tell when they have turned into flowers. Can't wait!
And I spotted this on the way back. Nice number plate!
******
She knew first
In honour of your Mum's birthday, by U.
10th September 2022
10th September 2022
Photo credit: Taken by me.
She knew you were beautiful.
Long before I said you are so beautiful.
She knew you were smart.
Long before I admired your smartness.
She knew your witty brilliance.
Long before I was incredibly fascinated by it.
She knew you were so generous.
Long before your generosity humbled me.
She knew you were gifted.
Long before your gift and talents took my breath away.
She loved you.
Long before I spoke those magical three words to you.
Happy Birthday to your wonderful Mum. She raised the most extraordinary boy.
I love you. And I cannot say how much I miss you.
Yours,
Ute
I love you. And I cannot say how much I miss you.
Yours,
Ute
******
The Kissing Tree
A story retold.
Written by U. and R., 2021
Written by U. and R., 2021
Photo taken by me, Kew Gardens London, in August 2022
Prelude
"Someday, when I'm grown up, I'll go and see the world, and I will fly and fly and fly and find love!"
She lay on the grass beneath the ancient huge oak as sunlight slipped through the branches above. She could almost hear her teenage self shouting this in delight, her blonde hair fluttering wild behind her as she swung forward on the swing that hung from the biggest branch.
And even more, she could hear her grandmother's laugh. "Of course you will, Sweetie," Granny had said when she was a girl. "I did. Your Mum did. So will you. And you can come here whenever you need space to rest those wings."
The tree did not belong to their house. Nobody owned it. It stood in the town's park, well cared for by the old park keeper. He did not mind the children's playing under it, as long as they didn't disturb the rendezvouses, the engagements and weddings and such. It was a magic tree they said. 'The Kissing Tree' it was called, a place where young teen lovers go to kiss, or even for a boy and a girl to have their first ever kiss.
So here she was. So many years later. She hopped to her feet. Approaching the tree, she tried to embrace its size, leaning her forehead against it and exhaled deeply. The tree had lived on for centuries, carrying story upon story in its carved trunk.
"Do you remember ours, his and mine?" she whispered, her cheek against the trunk now. The wind moved through the branches, the responding rattle of the leaves was reply enough. Like music. Their song, their dance. She closed her eyes and waited for the memories to wash over her.
She lay on the grass beneath the ancient huge oak as sunlight slipped through the branches above. She could almost hear her teenage self shouting this in delight, her blonde hair fluttering wild behind her as she swung forward on the swing that hung from the biggest branch.
And even more, she could hear her grandmother's laugh. "Of course you will, Sweetie," Granny had said when she was a girl. "I did. Your Mum did. So will you. And you can come here whenever you need space to rest those wings."
The tree did not belong to their house. Nobody owned it. It stood in the town's park, well cared for by the old park keeper. He did not mind the children's playing under it, as long as they didn't disturb the rendezvouses, the engagements and weddings and such. It was a magic tree they said. 'The Kissing Tree' it was called, a place where young teen lovers go to kiss, or even for a boy and a girl to have their first ever kiss.
So here she was. So many years later. She hopped to her feet. Approaching the tree, she tried to embrace its size, leaning her forehead against it and exhaled deeply. The tree had lived on for centuries, carrying story upon story in its carved trunk.
"Do you remember ours, his and mine?" she whispered, her cheek against the trunk now. The wind moved through the branches, the responding rattle of the leaves was reply enough. Like music. Their song, their dance. She closed her eyes and waited for the memories to wash over her.
Page 1
It was a cloudy Wednesday late afternoon and I had nothing to do, except I had.
Being a teenage boy is perhaps more fun with friends having similar interests, a similar view of the world, or a willingness to travel. But less so when the few boys I know are provincial, conservative, sometimes illiberal, and had their lives and marriages already mapped out for them by parents. This cocktail of circumstance always mildly annoys me whenever I think about it, speaking selfishly of course. Annoyance because meeting girls is always easier as a group of boys than when alone.
Meeting girls. Or even just a girl. How difficult could it possibly be? Well, very, in my case. And, of course, I know it is not in my nature to be bold and go out and find a girl. And there you have it.
So sometimes I do the next best thing. Or maybe you see it as the next worst thing? I watch The Kissing Tree. At a distance. That's the thing I sometimes do. To view other teens frolicking, and aimlessly wondering what it would be like?
However, of late, I have noticed there is a girl who turns up. A blonde. Also only ever by herself. Also only at a quiet time when nobody else is there.
Lately, I have been wondering that my story is not unique. For there are perhaps others for whom The Kissing Tree provides something. Suddenly a song is in my head ... how does it go?
"All you ever wanted was Love,
But you never looked hard enough,
It's never gonna give itself up".
I flick through the pages of my newspaper as I sit on a faraway bench. I occassionally glance up. She is still there, on this cloudy Wednesday late afternoon.
Being a teenage boy is perhaps more fun with friends having similar interests, a similar view of the world, or a willingness to travel. But less so when the few boys I know are provincial, conservative, sometimes illiberal, and had their lives and marriages already mapped out for them by parents. This cocktail of circumstance always mildly annoys me whenever I think about it, speaking selfishly of course. Annoyance because meeting girls is always easier as a group of boys than when alone.
Meeting girls. Or even just a girl. How difficult could it possibly be? Well, very, in my case. And, of course, I know it is not in my nature to be bold and go out and find a girl. And there you have it.
So sometimes I do the next best thing. Or maybe you see it as the next worst thing? I watch The Kissing Tree. At a distance. That's the thing I sometimes do. To view other teens frolicking, and aimlessly wondering what it would be like?
However, of late, I have noticed there is a girl who turns up. A blonde. Also only ever by herself. Also only at a quiet time when nobody else is there.
Lately, I have been wondering that my story is not unique. For there are perhaps others for whom The Kissing Tree provides something. Suddenly a song is in my head ... how does it go?
"All you ever wanted was Love,
But you never looked hard enough,
It's never gonna give itself up".
I flick through the pages of my newspaper as I sit on a faraway bench. I occassionally glance up. She is still there, on this cloudy Wednesday late afternoon.
Page 2
Was everyone in town happy? Everyone in love with someone? There hadn't been any visitors to the tree; no lovers on Monday and none on Tuesday. And, so far, nobody was here today on this cloudy Wednesday.
On these days I go there. Solitude. Time for reflection on life and what I want and need for myself. Yes, I guess these are the things that bring me here. On life, or on love? Both, to be honest.
I run my fingers down the wood. People have been carving their initials in its trunk for decades now, and still the tree stands. Beautiful. Majestic. Never doubting. My fingertips trace the hearts and arrows, the names in them. Uncountable stories are hidden in these symbols of love; they would fill a library by now. Stories of deep love and happiness and, depending on whom you ask, also stories of sadness and wrong choices. The tree has them all. Just not mine...
What is love? I don't know. I asked my friends. All of them seemed to have an answer to that. Answers I could not really relate to. Answers I was so eager to hear but, when I took a look into my own heart, could not agree with. Do I want this kind of life? Is not love so much more than having a good home, enough money, and children?
"You have a beautiful mature soul," Granny says sometimes. "Try to keep it, it is very rare my darling," was something she said another time. A mature soul? Well, that's great, right? It often makes me feel so out of place. Especially with the boys. Oh, I do like what they like. It is not that. I like the same music, I do like spending time with them. We have a lot of fun together, and I really try to see what they see. Except I don't.
Silly thoughts! Let's not think about it. Let's not go down that road again. There's that familiar rattling again. I turn my gaze up to the crown. The leaves and branches, they are talking again. A magical warm breeze comes up out of nowhere, kisses my face, blows my hair away. I hug the tree once again, and I smile. "What are you trying to tell me?" I whisper.
I close my eyes. And then I hear the melody. The song is in my mind for days, and I cannot resist singing it now.
"The sky could fall, could fall on me
The parting of the seas
But you mean more, mean more to me
Than any colour I can see".
My eyes are still closed, and I spin myself around and move to the music I'm imagining. I know all the lovely dance steps from months of watching the lovers beneath the tree. From practising them in my room. I dive into the tunes, my hands are up in the air, their gestures in sync with the movement of my hips and feet. This must be what it feels like when girls dance their dream.
A sudden rustle makes me startle. I drop my arms and swing round to see a shock of intense dark eyes and very dark hair, coming from a well-shaped face which is staring at me from a bench only inches away from me. Oh god, the horror, the horror of the moment! How awkward! How long had he been sitting there?
"Hi!" I manage, and he jumps to his feet. Appears as equally embarrassed as I am. He's taller than I. The newspaper he was reading slides to the ground. "I didn't mean...," I point to the paper. I don't know that boy. I have seen him with a group of boys the other day, though. Those eyes. He was different. Quieter. Barely talking himself but listening very attentively when talked to by someone. He didn't often smile, but when he did his smile made his eyes sparkle even more. I had liked that.
On these days I go there. Solitude. Time for reflection on life and what I want and need for myself. Yes, I guess these are the things that bring me here. On life, or on love? Both, to be honest.
I run my fingers down the wood. People have been carving their initials in its trunk for decades now, and still the tree stands. Beautiful. Majestic. Never doubting. My fingertips trace the hearts and arrows, the names in them. Uncountable stories are hidden in these symbols of love; they would fill a library by now. Stories of deep love and happiness and, depending on whom you ask, also stories of sadness and wrong choices. The tree has them all. Just not mine...
What is love? I don't know. I asked my friends. All of them seemed to have an answer to that. Answers I could not really relate to. Answers I was so eager to hear but, when I took a look into my own heart, could not agree with. Do I want this kind of life? Is not love so much more than having a good home, enough money, and children?
"You have a beautiful mature soul," Granny says sometimes. "Try to keep it, it is very rare my darling," was something she said another time. A mature soul? Well, that's great, right? It often makes me feel so out of place. Especially with the boys. Oh, I do like what they like. It is not that. I like the same music, I do like spending time with them. We have a lot of fun together, and I really try to see what they see. Except I don't.
Silly thoughts! Let's not think about it. Let's not go down that road again. There's that familiar rattling again. I turn my gaze up to the crown. The leaves and branches, they are talking again. A magical warm breeze comes up out of nowhere, kisses my face, blows my hair away. I hug the tree once again, and I smile. "What are you trying to tell me?" I whisper.
I close my eyes. And then I hear the melody. The song is in my mind for days, and I cannot resist singing it now.
"The sky could fall, could fall on me
The parting of the seas
But you mean more, mean more to me
Than any colour I can see".
My eyes are still closed, and I spin myself around and move to the music I'm imagining. I know all the lovely dance steps from months of watching the lovers beneath the tree. From practising them in my room. I dive into the tunes, my hands are up in the air, their gestures in sync with the movement of my hips and feet. This must be what it feels like when girls dance their dream.
A sudden rustle makes me startle. I drop my arms and swing round to see a shock of intense dark eyes and very dark hair, coming from a well-shaped face which is staring at me from a bench only inches away from me. Oh god, the horror, the horror of the moment! How awkward! How long had he been sitting there?
"Hi!" I manage, and he jumps to his feet. Appears as equally embarrassed as I am. He's taller than I. The newspaper he was reading slides to the ground. "I didn't mean...," I point to the paper. I don't know that boy. I have seen him with a group of boys the other day, though. Those eyes. He was different. Quieter. Barely talking himself but listening very attentively when talked to by someone. He didn't often smile, but when he did his smile made his eyes sparkle even more. I had liked that.
Page 3
And I watched, her, at The Kissing Tree.
Watched her hug the tree, close her eyes, and start to spin around in circles. I had to smile. There was something joyous in her spinning. But, I had observed, there was never a boy. The blonde would often only visit the tree when nobody else was there. Perhaps wanting the tree's magic all to herself? No. Perhaps wishing there was a boy? There will be a boy? Who knew? But I somehow knew that on this overcast and unwelcoming Wednesday afternoon, she would be there.
I got back to my newspaper. A trifle pretentious perhaps, a teenager reading in the open-air in public; but it was better than an alternative that required me to spend money I didn't have.
I glanced up to see her spinning inexorably in my direction. I immedately bury my face in the paper, looking intently at the words but not reading anything at all. All the time hearing her getting nearer and nearer. I feel myself inwardly fleeing towards a total shutdown, as is my habit.
"Hi!", she says to me, as she stops herself from falling on to me. I jump to my feet and, with little room between us, the paper falls away.
"I didn't mean ...", she says, pointing to the paper.
"Er yeah ... no problem", I manage to blurt, a little hot and bothered. Now, up close, I could see she had the most beautiful blue eyes surrounded by a face in a shock of gorgeous blonde hair. A little shorter than me, in her flat shoes, and decidedly young - maybe fourteen or fifteen in school to my college nineteen?
In the awkwardness, I put some space between us and picked up the newpaper, arranging the sheets as she looked on. She didn't say anything, but neither was she going away.
I started to wonder ...
Had she, too, seen me from The Kissing Tree?
And that I had been watching her?
With an intent, basic?
I started to walk away, embarrassed at perhaps being found out. "Enjoy your dancing ..." I said to the park bench instead of her.
"Thanks", she replied breezily, "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend".
It was a lie.
Watched her hug the tree, close her eyes, and start to spin around in circles. I had to smile. There was something joyous in her spinning. But, I had observed, there was never a boy. The blonde would often only visit the tree when nobody else was there. Perhaps wanting the tree's magic all to herself? No. Perhaps wishing there was a boy? There will be a boy? Who knew? But I somehow knew that on this overcast and unwelcoming Wednesday afternoon, she would be there.
I got back to my newspaper. A trifle pretentious perhaps, a teenager reading in the open-air in public; but it was better than an alternative that required me to spend money I didn't have.
I glanced up to see her spinning inexorably in my direction. I immedately bury my face in the paper, looking intently at the words but not reading anything at all. All the time hearing her getting nearer and nearer. I feel myself inwardly fleeing towards a total shutdown, as is my habit.
"Hi!", she says to me, as she stops herself from falling on to me. I jump to my feet and, with little room between us, the paper falls away.
"I didn't mean ...", she says, pointing to the paper.
"Er yeah ... no problem", I manage to blurt, a little hot and bothered. Now, up close, I could see she had the most beautiful blue eyes surrounded by a face in a shock of gorgeous blonde hair. A little shorter than me, in her flat shoes, and decidedly young - maybe fourteen or fifteen in school to my college nineteen?
In the awkwardness, I put some space between us and picked up the newpaper, arranging the sheets as she looked on. She didn't say anything, but neither was she going away.
I started to wonder ...
Had she, too, seen me from The Kissing Tree?
And that I had been watching her?
With an intent, basic?
I started to walk away, embarrassed at perhaps being found out. "Enjoy your dancing ..." I said to the park bench instead of her.
"Thanks", she replied breezily, "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend".
It was a lie.
Page 4
I am sure the beautiful magical tree is laughing mightily at my foolishness. Laughing so hard most certainly that I can almost hear that loud rustle in its canopy. Such a foolishness made of my outlandish dreams. To be honest, this was the first time. It was the first time I did not listen to what my heart told me that moment.
My foolishness resulted from a single most selfish remark that might now lead to never talk to him again. This, right now, feels so awfully wrong. Lying feels so awfully wrong. Like a first class betrayal of myself and my fundamental stance on how to behave towards other people. Especially towards him.
Last night in my dream, he was all mine. How was that even possible? Yesterday we spoke no more than two or three minutes, and it was anything but pleasant! So, how can I dream about him? But there he was, those dark eyes looking at me. He, sitting next to me, calm and beautiful and listening. He had nothing of the childish behaviour I knew from boys my age, nothing of the airy manners they occasionally showed, nothing of the clumsy attempts to steal a kiss from me. This is how I remember conversing with him in the fleeting moment of my dream: at the University park, the sun setting behind the Kissing Tree in the distant orange horizon, my head fitting perfectly against his shoulders.
Now I'm awake, my dream being robbed by the daylight of the breaking new morning. I immediately feel the after-effect of my nocturnal fantasy. I feel warm, very good. I’m smiling, bathing in that lovely emotion for some time. What a wonderful experience this would be, if meeting him was real! I glare to the window in my room; it must be very early morning. It is a day off from school, but nothing can keep me in bed any longer. I adore the early hours, their intimacy and peacefulness.
I slip into a dress and sneak downstairs to the kitchen. I don't want to disturb my parents or my grandma. I make some tea in a thermal mug and get the dog. I don't bother to put on my sandals. I grab them with one hand, and off we go. The morning welcomes us. It is like the grass is delighted to feel my bare feet; it is like the soft breeze longs to play with my hair.
Only when I stand before the bench I met the boy the day before I realise that my walk automatically led me here. I laugh out loud. 'What on earth is happening here?' I ask the dog, but he just gives me a puppy-eyed look and lies down. No help from that one altogether. "Alright then," I sigh and sit down. It is first light and still and rather beautiful; the birth of a new beginning, another chance. I need that chance, I need to apologise to him, to set right what I had done wrong. Yes, it is what I want so much! I finish my tea and spring to my feet with new energy, with an unprecedented flutter in my tummy that fills me with anticipation and hope. My eyes wander and come to rest on something that lies on the edge of the park bench. What is this? And more important, who forgot it on that bench?
I pick it up and see it is a book, maybe an album. As I look at it, something falls out and sails to the ground. It is a photograph. And it is him in thatpicture! He has a sparkle in the eyes that you only have when you look at someone you love. Who took that photo? His girlfriend? His Mum? I haven’t seen him with a girl when I watched him from afar. I focus at the book again; my fingers try to shove the photo back into the book, but it gets stuck. To put it back inside I open the cover and am greeted by a masterly skilled sketch of the Kissing Tree and a girl hugging its trunk. It is a sketchbook! In the corner I can see his initials, if these are his initials that is. I have to sit down again, and I close the book so quickly that I can’t recognise the girl. So, he has a girlfriend. And I had no right whatsoever to snoop around, of course! What will he think of me when I bring his sketchbook back? I must steel myself that he is not going to talk to me at all after this.
I take the dog and we run to the Kissing Tree. The trees majestic limbs stretch out in every direction. I duck beneath them, and when I stand upright again my body stiffens. Somebody is already there.
By now I’d recognise those eyes from anywhere...
“Oh, hello,” I allow the words foolishly slip from my lips, pressing the sketchbook close to my chest, ready to defend it with my life.
My foolishness resulted from a single most selfish remark that might now lead to never talk to him again. This, right now, feels so awfully wrong. Lying feels so awfully wrong. Like a first class betrayal of myself and my fundamental stance on how to behave towards other people. Especially towards him.
Last night in my dream, he was all mine. How was that even possible? Yesterday we spoke no more than two or three minutes, and it was anything but pleasant! So, how can I dream about him? But there he was, those dark eyes looking at me. He, sitting next to me, calm and beautiful and listening. He had nothing of the childish behaviour I knew from boys my age, nothing of the airy manners they occasionally showed, nothing of the clumsy attempts to steal a kiss from me. This is how I remember conversing with him in the fleeting moment of my dream: at the University park, the sun setting behind the Kissing Tree in the distant orange horizon, my head fitting perfectly against his shoulders.
Now I'm awake, my dream being robbed by the daylight of the breaking new morning. I immediately feel the after-effect of my nocturnal fantasy. I feel warm, very good. I’m smiling, bathing in that lovely emotion for some time. What a wonderful experience this would be, if meeting him was real! I glare to the window in my room; it must be very early morning. It is a day off from school, but nothing can keep me in bed any longer. I adore the early hours, their intimacy and peacefulness.
I slip into a dress and sneak downstairs to the kitchen. I don't want to disturb my parents or my grandma. I make some tea in a thermal mug and get the dog. I don't bother to put on my sandals. I grab them with one hand, and off we go. The morning welcomes us. It is like the grass is delighted to feel my bare feet; it is like the soft breeze longs to play with my hair.
Only when I stand before the bench I met the boy the day before I realise that my walk automatically led me here. I laugh out loud. 'What on earth is happening here?' I ask the dog, but he just gives me a puppy-eyed look and lies down. No help from that one altogether. "Alright then," I sigh and sit down. It is first light and still and rather beautiful; the birth of a new beginning, another chance. I need that chance, I need to apologise to him, to set right what I had done wrong. Yes, it is what I want so much! I finish my tea and spring to my feet with new energy, with an unprecedented flutter in my tummy that fills me with anticipation and hope. My eyes wander and come to rest on something that lies on the edge of the park bench. What is this? And more important, who forgot it on that bench?
I pick it up and see it is a book, maybe an album. As I look at it, something falls out and sails to the ground. It is a photograph. And it is him in thatpicture! He has a sparkle in the eyes that you only have when you look at someone you love. Who took that photo? His girlfriend? His Mum? I haven’t seen him with a girl when I watched him from afar. I focus at the book again; my fingers try to shove the photo back into the book, but it gets stuck. To put it back inside I open the cover and am greeted by a masterly skilled sketch of the Kissing Tree and a girl hugging its trunk. It is a sketchbook! In the corner I can see his initials, if these are his initials that is. I have to sit down again, and I close the book so quickly that I can’t recognise the girl. So, he has a girlfriend. And I had no right whatsoever to snoop around, of course! What will he think of me when I bring his sketchbook back? I must steel myself that he is not going to talk to me at all after this.
I take the dog and we run to the Kissing Tree. The trees majestic limbs stretch out in every direction. I duck beneath them, and when I stand upright again my body stiffens. Somebody is already there.
By now I’d recognise those eyes from anywhere...
“Oh, hello,” I allow the words foolishly slip from my lips, pressing the sketchbook close to my chest, ready to defend it with my life.
Page 5
Making an early morning start was imperative. It had to be there somewhere. My sketchbook. Luckily it had been a dry warm night, so I was hopeful that the pages were not spoiled. I walk quickly back to the bench. My bench, near the Kissing Tree.
As I walk, other thoughts come to me. The blonde girl. Why had she lied? Why did she feel a need to have made a lie to me? Was she embarrassed to have encountered me in the middle of her reverie? Embarrassed enough to have told a big fat lie?
She need not have. I would have understood her. Why? Because I was the same as her. Needing someone. I would have maybe opened up to her as well. Perhaps I should not have walked away so quickly. How did that song go ... "You could not see to see"? Perhaps we needded to start a new conversation where we could be ourselves. Just talking. How did the song go again? "So take my time, and take my lies, because all the others, they want to take my life".
Forgiveness was the key. I should forgive her because she can only be feeling regret at telling the lie to me. And the gift of forgivness was for me to give.
My eyes scan the bench as I approach. Nothing. Look again. No. Not here. Then someone must have collected it. Who? A nearby householder? A dog walker?
***
“Oh, hello", she says, as I surprise her in front of the Kissing Tree. She's clutching my sketchbook rather hard against her in this early morning. Her dog is running around the tree, excited about something or other.
"Careful", I say, "The pages will bend", and I can't help smiling at how she seems to be defending it. "I believe that's mine", nodding to the pad. But she's not looking at the book, she's staring at me for what seems an inordinately long time, gathering her words.
I speak again, before she has time to answer.
"Listen. I've seen you here before. On days nobody else is here. So often in fact that I sketched you at the tree. Only in a basic outline though. If you would like, then I would be happy to make a proper pencil sketch of you to take home and show your parents".
I knew making that sketch of her would take time. Maybe a few hours on this quiet morning. And we would talk about things, and maybe ourselves. So I would take her time, and I would take her lie because, I had a feeling that all the other boys, they just wanted to take her life.
As I walk, other thoughts come to me. The blonde girl. Why had she lied? Why did she feel a need to have made a lie to me? Was she embarrassed to have encountered me in the middle of her reverie? Embarrassed enough to have told a big fat lie?
She need not have. I would have understood her. Why? Because I was the same as her. Needing someone. I would have maybe opened up to her as well. Perhaps I should not have walked away so quickly. How did that song go ... "You could not see to see"? Perhaps we needded to start a new conversation where we could be ourselves. Just talking. How did the song go again? "So take my time, and take my lies, because all the others, they want to take my life".
Forgiveness was the key. I should forgive her because she can only be feeling regret at telling the lie to me. And the gift of forgivness was for me to give.
My eyes scan the bench as I approach. Nothing. Look again. No. Not here. Then someone must have collected it. Who? A nearby householder? A dog walker?
***
“Oh, hello", she says, as I surprise her in front of the Kissing Tree. She's clutching my sketchbook rather hard against her in this early morning. Her dog is running around the tree, excited about something or other.
"Careful", I say, "The pages will bend", and I can't help smiling at how she seems to be defending it. "I believe that's mine", nodding to the pad. But she's not looking at the book, she's staring at me for what seems an inordinately long time, gathering her words.
I speak again, before she has time to answer.
"Listen. I've seen you here before. On days nobody else is here. So often in fact that I sketched you at the tree. Only in a basic outline though. If you would like, then I would be happy to make a proper pencil sketch of you to take home and show your parents".
I knew making that sketch of her would take time. Maybe a few hours on this quiet morning. And we would talk about things, and maybe ourselves. So I would take her time, and I would take her lie because, I had a feeling that all the other boys, they just wanted to take her life.
Epilogue
"There they are! There they are! Come! Come!” we hear my father yelling excitingly at my mother when we park at their front door. He ushers my Mum outside, thoughtfully slipping a jacket around her shoulders.
You and I grin at each other at the sight of this scene. “Are you nervous Honey?” I ask, leaning in and touching your face lightly with my lips. “No, you are with me, everything is fine then.”
****
So much had happened in our lives since then. Since we met under the Kissing Tree fifteen years ago under circumstances that could only be described as fate. I remember it as if it was yesterday. All of it had started with a lie, my lie. Even now I still shudder when I think how carelessly it came over my lips. Words I had never ever intended to say to you. "So take my time, and take my lies, because all the others, they want to take my life,” the song comes to mind out of nowhere. Was it fear? Was I afraid I’d hear the same phrases from you like all the other boys had told me? Afraid that, once again, someone would lay out a tied down outlook of life in which I could not find myself in? I should have known better.
I should have listened to my instincts: You were like no other boy I had met so far. You spoke with the same elegance you possessed in sketching. You swept me off my feet by forgiving me, by showing me your beautiful passionate core and your soul that barely someone else knew. I finally could acknowledge that the spark that had crackled in the space between us, a spark I had felt from the first moment of seeing you among the other boys, was not only a girlish fantasy. “I want all that you are”, the song goes on playing in my mind, and yes, I did. I wanted all you were, and for the first time in my life I was ready to give all I was.
But life had other plans. All of a sudden we fell back to earth. Circumstances led to parting, and not having you with me was like life kept going on without me. I lived like driving on autopilot, just functioning and nothing more. Blissful memories can be extremely painful. But my heart! Oh, my heart!
Days turned into weeks, months turned into years. My heart, however, was chanting your name with the same intensity as in the days I was fourteen and you were nineteen. I saw your face everywhere; in other people, other objects, foreign places. The temptation to look for you, the longing to be united with you again, to link my soul with yours, was so strong at times that I felt the hurt physically. But I could not be selfish. I could never do you any harm, and so I suffered in silence and solitude.
There was something, though, that was inexplicable. Like ships sending their signals out at sea every five seconds, feeling so lost during these years came to an end.
I would have recognised those eyes everywhere, and they were looking straight at me. In the middle of room 2 in my favourite art gallery I was staring back. You had aged only a little, with something akin to gracefulness. The touch of grey in your otherwise black hair suited you extremely well.
“How long has it been?" You asked, your voice heavy with emotion when we reached each other.
“Far too long,” I whispered back, a tear making its way down my cheek. He is so beautiful I thought. “I was looking for a painting,” I slightly turned and gestured to the wooden wall where it hung.
“But you found me instead.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I think I should be going,” you said after an awkward sequence of silence, looking around for the exit.
“Wait.” I touch your hand hastily. Fear you would leave made my words nearly inaudible. Here we were. Older. Scarred. No strangers to heartache, hurt feelings, and pain. Standing there with you, I had no idea what cards the future held. This time, however, I knew the right words: “Please. Stay.”
******
We are in my parents’ hallway by now. Your eyes fall on a picture on a wall, framed and set as a highlight among the other memories displayed there.
“You still have it?” you ask my father.
“Oh, of course! Of course!” he replies eagerly, stepping next to you to look at it.
It is the sketch you had taken of me under the Kissing Tree when we started seeing each other.
I slip my arms around your waist, my fingers interlock at your back.
“Want to go there? Now?” I ask, looking you in the eyes.
“Yes,” you reply.
You and I grin at each other at the sight of this scene. “Are you nervous Honey?” I ask, leaning in and touching your face lightly with my lips. “No, you are with me, everything is fine then.”
****
So much had happened in our lives since then. Since we met under the Kissing Tree fifteen years ago under circumstances that could only be described as fate. I remember it as if it was yesterday. All of it had started with a lie, my lie. Even now I still shudder when I think how carelessly it came over my lips. Words I had never ever intended to say to you. "So take my time, and take my lies, because all the others, they want to take my life,” the song comes to mind out of nowhere. Was it fear? Was I afraid I’d hear the same phrases from you like all the other boys had told me? Afraid that, once again, someone would lay out a tied down outlook of life in which I could not find myself in? I should have known better.
I should have listened to my instincts: You were like no other boy I had met so far. You spoke with the same elegance you possessed in sketching. You swept me off my feet by forgiving me, by showing me your beautiful passionate core and your soul that barely someone else knew. I finally could acknowledge that the spark that had crackled in the space between us, a spark I had felt from the first moment of seeing you among the other boys, was not only a girlish fantasy. “I want all that you are”, the song goes on playing in my mind, and yes, I did. I wanted all you were, and for the first time in my life I was ready to give all I was.
But life had other plans. All of a sudden we fell back to earth. Circumstances led to parting, and not having you with me was like life kept going on without me. I lived like driving on autopilot, just functioning and nothing more. Blissful memories can be extremely painful. But my heart! Oh, my heart!
Days turned into weeks, months turned into years. My heart, however, was chanting your name with the same intensity as in the days I was fourteen and you were nineteen. I saw your face everywhere; in other people, other objects, foreign places. The temptation to look for you, the longing to be united with you again, to link my soul with yours, was so strong at times that I felt the hurt physically. But I could not be selfish. I could never do you any harm, and so I suffered in silence and solitude.
There was something, though, that was inexplicable. Like ships sending their signals out at sea every five seconds, feeling so lost during these years came to an end.
I would have recognised those eyes everywhere, and they were looking straight at me. In the middle of room 2 in my favourite art gallery I was staring back. You had aged only a little, with something akin to gracefulness. The touch of grey in your otherwise black hair suited you extremely well.
“How long has it been?" You asked, your voice heavy with emotion when we reached each other.
“Far too long,” I whispered back, a tear making its way down my cheek. He is so beautiful I thought. “I was looking for a painting,” I slightly turned and gestured to the wooden wall where it hung.
“But you found me instead.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I think I should be going,” you said after an awkward sequence of silence, looking around for the exit.
“Wait.” I touch your hand hastily. Fear you would leave made my words nearly inaudible. Here we were. Older. Scarred. No strangers to heartache, hurt feelings, and pain. Standing there with you, I had no idea what cards the future held. This time, however, I knew the right words: “Please. Stay.”
******
We are in my parents’ hallway by now. Your eyes fall on a picture on a wall, framed and set as a highlight among the other memories displayed there.
“You still have it?” you ask my father.
“Oh, of course! Of course!” he replies eagerly, stepping next to you to look at it.
It is the sketch you had taken of me under the Kissing Tree when we started seeing each other.
I slip my arms around your waist, my fingers interlock at your back.
“Want to go there? Now?” I ask, looking you in the eyes.
“Yes,” you reply.
Video Recording made by me, Kew Gardens London, in August 2022
******
******
Like The Sun, We Are Trying...
22nd May 2022, by U.
|
|
Sunrise and sunset with the dog.
It always starts with a tiny little glimpse in the early morning. A glimpse that may mean nothing at first, a glimpse so small not even noticed by us. But suddenly this changes, as change is the nature of the sun. As change is the nature of life. As change is the nature of love, too.
Like the sun, a seemingly weak light gathers strength, summons up all the courage it has at its disposal and, quite miraculously, the key has been turned. The shining glint is nothing like it was thirty minutes ago. We are nothing like we were just thirty minutes ago. So, if we really want to understand light, we need to accept that there are sometimes places within us where the light has not reached yet or, where no light is currently to find. We need to understand that we, at times, need to keep our distance to the sun because otherwise we'd risk to be burned if we don't.
But, like a wonder really, light is always coming back. People who truly love you are always coming back looking after you. Love will never just stop shining. Just like the sun. You may feel small and fragil for weeks, months even. But trust me, everything is coming back. The inspiration you seek. Your mind blowing creativity. The energy that usually radiates from you. The answers you need. The healthiness you want to have back. The joy and playfulness you were used to feel back then.
The sun is never 'just beautiful' or 'not.' Just like you. There are so many incredible nuances we should see, the reddish tones, the bright yellow, the deep orange. The emotions you feel are never just 'good' or 'bad.' You are not just 'fine' or 'well enough.' You do not exist in between two conditions only. You cannot be compartmentalised like that. Just like the sun. There is so much more to you, so much magic to explore when it comes to the real you. So much more charm and grace.There is so much about you to learn; the sparkling beauty of contrasts that is inside you, so ready to shine a light into the world.
*
Let it all come back to you, the perfection you perhaps cannot see right now but means everything to me. I can see the sun in you, brighter than anything else I have ever seen before.
Like the sun, a seemingly weak light gathers strength, summons up all the courage it has at its disposal and, quite miraculously, the key has been turned. The shining glint is nothing like it was thirty minutes ago. We are nothing like we were just thirty minutes ago. So, if we really want to understand light, we need to accept that there are sometimes places within us where the light has not reached yet or, where no light is currently to find. We need to understand that we, at times, need to keep our distance to the sun because otherwise we'd risk to be burned if we don't.
But, like a wonder really, light is always coming back. People who truly love you are always coming back looking after you. Love will never just stop shining. Just like the sun. You may feel small and fragil for weeks, months even. But trust me, everything is coming back. The inspiration you seek. Your mind blowing creativity. The energy that usually radiates from you. The answers you need. The healthiness you want to have back. The joy and playfulness you were used to feel back then.
The sun is never 'just beautiful' or 'not.' Just like you. There are so many incredible nuances we should see, the reddish tones, the bright yellow, the deep orange. The emotions you feel are never just 'good' or 'bad.' You are not just 'fine' or 'well enough.' You do not exist in between two conditions only. You cannot be compartmentalised like that. Just like the sun. There is so much more to you, so much magic to explore when it comes to the real you. So much more charm and grace.There is so much about you to learn; the sparkling beauty of contrasts that is inside you, so ready to shine a light into the world.
*
Let it all come back to you, the perfection you perhaps cannot see right now but means everything to me. I can see the sun in you, brighter than anything else I have ever seen before.
******
Happy Birthday!
8th April 2022, by U.
This is me
This is me choosing you. Again and yet again.
This is me wanting to be with you as often as I've been given the chance to.
This is me seeing you for who you are; this is me seeing your truly awe-inspiring mind, the beauty of your soul and body.
This is me understanding that responsibilities will get in the way more often than I want them to.
And this is me accepting that we are in different places when it comes to love.
This is me acknowledging that we cannot see into the future.
But this is me courageously staying open to the possibilities our lives will offer us to go our way together.
This is me continuing to love you so honestly and purely for this is my way to do it, for this is the only way I know.
This is also me hearing my heart and deeply trusting what it has to tell.
This is me loving you.
Happy Birthday.
Ute
This is me
This is me choosing you. Again and yet again.
This is me wanting to be with you as often as I've been given the chance to.
This is me seeing you for who you are; this is me seeing your truly awe-inspiring mind, the beauty of your soul and body.
This is me understanding that responsibilities will get in the way more often than I want them to.
And this is me accepting that we are in different places when it comes to love.
This is me acknowledging that we cannot see into the future.
But this is me courageously staying open to the possibilities our lives will offer us to go our way together.
This is me continuing to love you so honestly and purely for this is my way to do it, for this is the only way I know.
This is also me hearing my heart and deeply trusting what it has to tell.
This is me loving you.
Happy Birthday.
Ute
******
Do You Ever Wonder?
15th September 2021, by U.
Do you ever wonder how much you exist
in my life?
Are you curious if I think of you when
a certain song comes on?
Do you ever wonder how many stories
you have been a part of, and that I won't forget? Ever?
Can you imagine how many times a day
you pass through my head?
Love.
Uncountable. Immeasurable. All-embracing. Ever-present.
That's my answer.
in my life?
Are you curious if I think of you when
a certain song comes on?
Do you ever wonder how many stories
you have been a part of, and that I won't forget? Ever?
Can you imagine how many times a day
you pass through my head?
Love.
Uncountable. Immeasurable. All-embracing. Ever-present.
That's my answer.
******
That Special Day.
10th September 2021, by U.
Flowers for your Mum, from the backyard.
Today is such a special day again. It is a Mum’s birthday.
And today, instead of being sad, let’s take our eyes to the beautiful things your Mum gave to you.
Let’s do this because she is always in your heart and never truly gone.
She loved you. Very much. Only she called you like nobody else did, her special name for you , my love. Only she could say things to you no one else in the family was allowed to. The freedom of love only a mother has.
Your Mum held you up safely, above the blustering waves when there was troubled water. She kept you protected and out of harm‘s way. There was that exceptional bond you shared with her, a bond nobody else will ever be able to own, cut, or destroy. Do you know why this was? Because for a Mum it is not the relationship that makes her a mother, it is the incredible gift of a new language only the two of you understood. It is the climbing, falling colours of the rainbow called motherhood. Bestowed on her, an on her only, the moment you were born.
Today, it is you who still sees these colours of he rainbow my love, colours no art in the universe could create like that. It is only you who still hears and understands that language, albeit it is not spoken aloud. The bond, my love, is still to feel, so strong a light to guide you further and further through your days and nights.
Life did not come with a checklist of what to do; life came with your Mum. She knew all the things. She always had an answer, to everything. She could be any place you needed, any place at all, but no one could ever take hers. And yet, she only was able to hold your hands for a short while, but be assured that her heart and soul are there for you forever.
There is something that is truly singular as well. Singular for any mother in the world. With your Mum there was peace. Her love was not meant as a thing to asked for, it needed not be deserved. It was just there, for you to be cocooned in and kept warm. Being a Mum was love in action, full on, and every single mpment she was with you.
And happiness, my love, happiness for you today is imagine her smile.
And maybe a wink at her, a whisper from you too, 'Happy Birthday, Mum!‘
Ute XXxx.
And today, instead of being sad, let’s take our eyes to the beautiful things your Mum gave to you.
Let’s do this because she is always in your heart and never truly gone.
She loved you. Very much. Only she called you like nobody else did, her special name for you , my love. Only she could say things to you no one else in the family was allowed to. The freedom of love only a mother has.
Your Mum held you up safely, above the blustering waves when there was troubled water. She kept you protected and out of harm‘s way. There was that exceptional bond you shared with her, a bond nobody else will ever be able to own, cut, or destroy. Do you know why this was? Because for a Mum it is not the relationship that makes her a mother, it is the incredible gift of a new language only the two of you understood. It is the climbing, falling colours of the rainbow called motherhood. Bestowed on her, an on her only, the moment you were born.
Today, it is you who still sees these colours of he rainbow my love, colours no art in the universe could create like that. It is only you who still hears and understands that language, albeit it is not spoken aloud. The bond, my love, is still to feel, so strong a light to guide you further and further through your days and nights.
Life did not come with a checklist of what to do; life came with your Mum. She knew all the things. She always had an answer, to everything. She could be any place you needed, any place at all, but no one could ever take hers. And yet, she only was able to hold your hands for a short while, but be assured that her heart and soul are there for you forever.
There is something that is truly singular as well. Singular for any mother in the world. With your Mum there was peace. Her love was not meant as a thing to asked for, it needed not be deserved. It was just there, for you to be cocooned in and kept warm. Being a Mum was love in action, full on, and every single mpment she was with you.
And happiness, my love, happiness for you today is imagine her smile.
And maybe a wink at her, a whisper from you too, 'Happy Birthday, Mum!‘
Ute XXxx.
******
Happy New Week!
14th June 2021, by U.
******
Precious Ribbons.
13th March 2021, by U.
When somebody loves us
are we an enigma to them?
Are we their precious ribbon,
silken yet with knots and life's creases?
Will they find the right end?
The end that heals all the scars
instead of pulling the one that
lets us wrap tighter to shield ourselves?
I promise I will be there and set myself
with tender and skilful fingers.
With patience I will untie your knots,
with loving you I will unravel your beauty.
Me, you will say, really me?
You, I will say, always you.
And I will say these words and watch
how the light comes back in your eyes.
are we an enigma to them?
Are we their precious ribbon,
silken yet with knots and life's creases?
Will they find the right end?
The end that heals all the scars
instead of pulling the one that
lets us wrap tighter to shield ourselves?
I promise I will be there and set myself
with tender and skilful fingers.
With patience I will untie your knots,
with loving you I will unravel your beauty.
Me, you will say, really me?
You, I will say, always you.
And I will say these words and watch
how the light comes back in your eyes.
******
You are so beautiful.
14th February 2021, by U.
Valentine's Day
Valentine's Day
Love is not a crown worn lightly.
It also weighs with trustworthiness and carefulness.
Both come with love too for those of us who are fortunate to wear it.
Love is everything, my love.
Yours,
Ute xxx.
******
Happy New Year, my darling.
1st January 2021, by U.
I love you. More than you can imagine.
******
Merry Christmas my love.
25th December 2020, by U.
******
This Is How I Love You
13th December 2020, by U.
Photo: my own
What if
I do not need
you to belong to me?
What if you just carry on
to belong to you,
and spend a lot
of your time
with me?
What if,
simply because I love you
more than I can say,
I let you be yourself
and recognise what you need,
and I will always get
the very best
of who you are?
******
Summer Rose...
1st November 2020, by U.
..
Can't believe you never knew a man like me
Would be waiting here for his bride to be
Taking your sweet time like any other day
The bittersweet surprise of the summer rain
Catching glances from across the room
Must've been at the end of June
How'd you fall for such a fool?
I'll never know and nor will you
When you're feeling like you've had enough
All it takes is a little love
Come on baby, yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
Star spangled eyes I ever saw
You shot me down with your pistol draw
Got curves like shapes I've never seen
You're pulling me in just like a tractor beam
Catching glances from across the room
Must've been at the end of June
How'd you fall for such a fool?
I'll never know and nor will you
When you're feeling like you've had enough
All it takes is a little love
Come on baby, yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
Baby
Yeah you're driving me crazy
And I must say that lately
Yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
No no baby
Yeah you're driving me crazy
And I must say that lately
Yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
When you're feeling like you've had enough
All it takes is a little love
Come on baby, yeah you're all I know
Woah
Keep on waking up
Keep on waking up
Keep on waking up...
Can't believe you never knew a man like me
Would be waiting here for his bride to be
Taking your sweet time like any other day
The bittersweet surprise of the summer rain
Catching glances from across the room
Must've been at the end of June
How'd you fall for such a fool?
I'll never know and nor will you
When you're feeling like you've had enough
All it takes is a little love
Come on baby, yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
Star spangled eyes I ever saw
You shot me down with your pistol draw
Got curves like shapes I've never seen
You're pulling me in just like a tractor beam
Catching glances from across the room
Must've been at the end of June
How'd you fall for such a fool?
I'll never know and nor will you
When you're feeling like you've had enough
All it takes is a little love
Come on baby, yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
Baby
Yeah you're driving me crazy
And I must say that lately
Yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
No no baby
Yeah you're driving me crazy
And I must say that lately
Yeah you're all I know
My summer rose
When you're feeling like you've had enough
All it takes is a little love
Come on baby, yeah you're all I know
Woah
Keep on waking up
Keep on waking up
Keep on waking up...
Photographs: my own
Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJm_-BbdeWU
Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJm_-BbdeWU
******
Always there.
1st October 2020, by U.
When you ever fall
and want to give up
I will be strong enough
to hold us both
to sit with you
whilst your soul heals
because before this
I have been there
and it was you who taught me
to never give up.
♥♥♥
Photos my own.
******
Am I a Mermaid?
24th September 2020, by U.
How foolish to believe
we are more powerful
than the sea or the sky.
- Ruta Sepetys -
******
Happy Birthday to your Mum!
10th September 2020, by U.
Today is your Mum's Birthday. How can we not celebrate that? With my post we will, Honey.
Your Mum was definitively the most spectacular person in your life. She's given you your genes, your physical traits, but beyond that, and most importantly, she has given you your heart. She has taught you to love, and always be kind to people you meet in your life. She has taught you to go for your dreams and that nothing is too far to reach if you want it. She was the living proof to you that there is an unbelievable power in altruism and putting others before you, even when they don't even think of doing the same for you. And she loved you, she loved you so much.
Honey, your Mum was your greatest teacher. No one else, no partner in life and no friend, will ever be able to give you the advice your mother did. She taught you to be strong. She has taught you that sometimes strength is something very personal and private, and not what others think it is.
She was your greatest inspiration. You wanted to love and take care of everyone the way she did. And I know you don't think you will ever be able to do it as gracefully as she did. But you do, my love, you do. Every minute of every day. You are as wise as her. You are as loving as her. You are as smart as her, as successful and hard-working as her. You are as patient as her. You are as kind as her. My list could go on and on, my love. You are as beautiful as her and I can see that every day, Honey.
You wish that, one day, you could repay her for everything she has done for you. The truth is, however, there is no gift and no imaginable equivalent to the amount of impact she has had on your life. She would not even want a gift, would she, my love? But there is one thing you did for her, a thing only you gave to her. When you were born, you unlocked another beautiful part of her heart she never knew existed. You, Honey, you alone, brought out new facets of her personality too. That intense relationship between you and her let your Mum learn beautiful things as well, whilst she stayed fundamentally who she was. If we could ask her today she would surprise you with an unbelievable record of stunning examples and memories without even having to think about them. Isn't that wonderful to know?
I love your Mum because I love you, my darling. And even if death has taken her voice away from you, her heart is always with you. It is talking to you. And it will never stop. Just close your eyes and listen, my love.
Happy Birthday to your Mum.
******
Glitter Nails And Heels.
23rd July 2020, by U.
Keep working on whatever it is you are working on. Try to keep that radiant positivity despite what life has thrown at you. Also know that it will be alright to completely break down and let your feelings free.
Even if you cannot see it right now, your strength is incredibly inspiring and sexy and will pull you through. You cannot always control what life asks of you, but you can always choose your next move, and how to react.
Even if you cannot see it right now, your strength is incredibly inspiring and sexy and will pull you through. You cannot always control what life asks of you, but you can always choose your next move, and how to react.
******
Hello you.
18th July 2020, by U.
Love is not only who you let touch you, even if touching and feeling each other is the essence of love and missing this is challenging.
Love is who you write, laugh and cry with after midnight about your dreams, your thoughts, and your fears.
Love is giving someone your time and attention, even if tasks or other people are asking for them.
Love is the person always in the back of my head, no matter how distracted I am.
That person is you.
Love is who you write, laugh and cry with after midnight about your dreams, your thoughts, and your fears.
Love is giving someone your time and attention, even if tasks or other people are asking for them.
Love is the person always in the back of my head, no matter how distracted I am.
That person is you.
******
Walking On Sunshine.
25th June 2020, by U.
******
Feel.
24th May 2020, by U.
Feel, my darling. Feel every thought, even if the way you are feeling right now may not feel right, or let alone rational.
Trust the process of feeling and mending yourself. The way you feel is a very intense and emotional state or reaction to a situation or experience, and each one of us feels and experiences them differently. This is absolutely intimate and personal. Hence, the way you feel about something that has happened or is happening now might feel entirely different to how somebody else goes through it. We have a lot to learn and respect from the mindset of both ourselves and other people. Let the feeling trickle in and out of your thoughts, be patient and, most essentially, do not punish yourself or feel bad or guilty for the way you are feeling. Please do not ignore these feelings, it is up to you what they mean, what they can mean, what they may mean not. Sometimes figuring this out takes longer than other times. Feelings can be conflicting. They can be disturbing and make you feel unsure and confused. Feelings can be surprising and, like love maybe, they can be completely new and never felt before. Please listen to them because you need to feel before you heal, my darling.
Photo and video: My own.
******
A little something.
1st May 2020, by U.
Every day a little something is
lost. There is never a right choice,
only the best choice and that can
vary tremendously.
So we concentrate on aims and
the possibilities of the unknown. It is
why we should believe in ourselves
- no matter if right or wrong.
You are that to me. Just the
thought of you, let alone your presence
in my life, makes the confidence to
take that next step
- worthwhile and real.
You are the loved one and
only know that. In this
moment, and in the next,
never- ending.
lost. There is never a right choice,
only the best choice and that can
vary tremendously.
So we concentrate on aims and
the possibilities of the unknown. It is
why we should believe in ourselves
- no matter if right or wrong.
You are that to me. Just the
thought of you, let alone your presence
in my life, makes the confidence to
take that next step
- worthwhile and real.
You are the loved one and
only know that. In this
moment, and in the next,
never- ending.
******
She Loves You
12th April 2020, by U.
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You think you've lost your love
Well, I saw her yesterday
It's you she's thinking of
And she told me what to say
She says she loves you
And you know that can't be bad
Yes, she loves you
And you know you should be glad
She said you hurt her so
She almost lost her mind
But now she said she knows
You're not the hurting kind
She says she loves you
And you know that can't be bad
Yes, she loves you
And you know you should be glad, ooh...
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOuu88OwdK8
******
Happy Birthday!
8th April 2020, by U.
Can we love too much?
Is there some goal to reach?
Or do we always long for more,
I want an excess of love,
warm skin
entangled legs
and lazy Wednesday mornings
watching the sun to rise
Happy Birthday, my love.
Ute
Ute
Photograph: my own
******
Love's footsteps
28th March 2020, by U.
I will never be the first
of so many things for you
I walked into your world
at a time when love and life
and much knowledge had
already woven their patterns
into the tapestry of your being
I will never ask to be seen
on the very top of your list
For there are other firsts and
life's plans wonderfully laid out
Your feelings not to be hurt,
experiences yet to process,
breathing to be learned anew
But I promise you to remain
where all others have left you
l promise to warm you long
after the fire has gone out
I promise to show you the magic
in all the ordinary things and
never stop the beautiful chaos
I create with that...
I love you.
Ute
******
How?
1st of March 2020, by U.
t
Breathe, my love.
Even when you feel it might be impossible in certain moments. Deep breaths.
Feel your body react and the strength that is within you.
Laugh, my love.
Even when you feel down or too tired or too worn out.
It will be so contagious a thing when you laugh.
Cry, my love.
Even when you feel you must not.
The reflections you will find in your tears will guide you to what is right for you.
Sing, my love.
Even when people frown at you for they think your voice is a mess.
Think of a tree, its rustlig leaves can sing a tune most unexpected but incredibly alluring to our ears.
Dance, my love.
Even when your feet do not know what they are doing.
Even when it seems it makes no sense to even tryng to get your body in sync to any rhythm at all.
You'll look beautiful, you'll see.
Trust, my love.
Even when experiences ask you not to. Give trust a chance anyway, even if you are afraid.
People who truly love you will treat your heart very carefully and with thoughtfulness.
Walk, my love.
Even when you feel you cannnot go a single step anymore on the path that is your world.
Try to see to where that path will and can lead you, and forget how challenging it is to get there.
Sleep, my love.
Even when you are afraid what the dreams might be that come for you at night.
You are far too wonderful to not to dream them.
Live, my love.
What makes you unique and lovable is the person you are now. Not the man you were or will be in a couple of years. You are brave and so strong and breathtaking right now, and if you look back, you always have been. You are not an empty page, or a verse that is missing, or a song that is yet to write. You have so much to give from what is already there, and it is needed by those who care for you, by those who are part of your beautiful world.
Discover love.
Be surprised by the unknown.
Dare to have expectations because you can.
You are made for love.
It will be alright, Honey.
You will be alright, my love.
Yours,
Ute
Photo: my own
Breathe, my love.
Even when you feel it might be impossible in certain moments. Deep breaths.
Feel your body react and the strength that is within you.
Laugh, my love.
Even when you feel down or too tired or too worn out.
It will be so contagious a thing when you laugh.
Cry, my love.
Even when you feel you must not.
The reflections you will find in your tears will guide you to what is right for you.
Sing, my love.
Even when people frown at you for they think your voice is a mess.
Think of a tree, its rustlig leaves can sing a tune most unexpected but incredibly alluring to our ears.
Dance, my love.
Even when your feet do not know what they are doing.
Even when it seems it makes no sense to even tryng to get your body in sync to any rhythm at all.
You'll look beautiful, you'll see.
Trust, my love.
Even when experiences ask you not to. Give trust a chance anyway, even if you are afraid.
People who truly love you will treat your heart very carefully and with thoughtfulness.
Walk, my love.
Even when you feel you cannnot go a single step anymore on the path that is your world.
Try to see to where that path will and can lead you, and forget how challenging it is to get there.
Sleep, my love.
Even when you are afraid what the dreams might be that come for you at night.
You are far too wonderful to not to dream them.
Live, my love.
What makes you unique and lovable is the person you are now. Not the man you were or will be in a couple of years. You are brave and so strong and breathtaking right now, and if you look back, you always have been. You are not an empty page, or a verse that is missing, or a song that is yet to write. You have so much to give from what is already there, and it is needed by those who care for you, by those who are part of your beautiful world.
Discover love.
Be surprised by the unknown.
Dare to have expectations because you can.
You are made for love.
It will be alright, Honey.
You will be alright, my love.
Yours,
Ute
Photo: my own
******
Have I Told You Lately
14th of February, 2020 by U.
Valentine's Day
14th of February, 2020 by U.
Valentine's Day
.Have I Told You Lately
by Van Morrison
Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one above you
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
Oh the morning sun in all its glory
Greets the day with hope and comfort too
And you fill my life with laughter
You can make it better
Ease my troubles that's what you do
There's a love that's divine
And it's yours and it's mine
Like the sun
At the end of the day
We should give thanks and pray to the One
Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one above you
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
There's a love that's divine
And it's yours and it's mine
And it shines like the sun
At the end of the day we will give thanks and pray to the One
Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one above you
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
Take away my sadness
Fill my life with gladness
Ease my troubles that's what you do
Fill my life with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles that's what you do
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J789GId1kaY
by Van Morrison
Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one above you
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
Oh the morning sun in all its glory
Greets the day with hope and comfort too
And you fill my life with laughter
You can make it better
Ease my troubles that's what you do
There's a love that's divine
And it's yours and it's mine
Like the sun
At the end of the day
We should give thanks and pray to the One
Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one above you
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
There's a love that's divine
And it's yours and it's mine
And it shines like the sun
At the end of the day we will give thanks and pray to the One
Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there's no one above you
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
Take away my sadness
Fill my life with gladness
Ease my troubles that's what you do
Fill my life with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles that's what you do
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J789GId1kaY
******
One Day
23rd of January 2020, by U.
One day we will get
To where we are going
Let's just keep aiming
Towards the light
******
This is so beautiful.
4th of January 2020, by U.
The Year Of The Cat
On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat
She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow 'till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears
By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat
While she looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat
Well morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice you've lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the newborn day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat
Year of the cat
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat
She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow 'till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears
By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat
While she looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat
Well morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice you've lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the newborn day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat
Year of the cat
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ak_MTXQALa0
******
Christmas With You
14th of December 2019, by U.
******
My Mystery Man.
23rd of November 2019, by U.
Mystery Man
The Outfield
1985
Got a letter from a mystery man
But in between the lines - he don't understand
He's on a mission in Mozambique
The room is wired and I just can't speak
In the middle of it all - he can waste no time
In the middle of it all - he just says goodbye, goodbye
Got to get there just as fast I can
A pink carnation on a mystery man
A rendezvouz in Romania
Double agents in Australia
In the middle of it all - he can waste no time
In the middle of it all - he just says goodbye, goodbye
In the middle of it all - he can waste no time
In the middle of it all - he just says goodbye, goodbye
In the middle of it all - he can waste no time
In the middle of it all - he just says goodbye, goodbye
References: https://youtu.be/t_azOZXtRCg
******
And I Will Ask You
17th of October 2019, by U.
I will not ask
For all of your time
No everlastingness
You cannot give
But I will ask
You to stop by
As long as you
Feel happy and safe
But I will ask
You to be near
As long as you
Feel loved and adored
And I will ask
If ever you do not
Give me one opportunity
To turn it around
And make your heart believe
References of the image: Gustave Caillebotte
Landscape, Banks of the Yerres, c. 1875
Private Colletion
www.wikiart.org
Landscape, Banks of the Yerres, c. 1875
Private Colletion
www.wikiart.org
******
A Letter about Your Mum.
10th of September 2019, by U.
My dear R,
This is for her.
This is also for you.
Today is September 10, and it is your Mum's birthday. Sadly, I have never been able to meet her, but I would so have loved to. I do know I have no authority to write this. It even must appear as a repeated overstep of marks or the pure ignorance of promises I made to you when we had our last contact. I'm aware of my audacity, believe me I am. But how, I ask you, how can I not mention this day? How can I not think of her? How can I not think of you? How else will I be able to handle my emotions that are anyway with you on any given day, and even more intense on a day such as this? Please forgive me my boldness. I assure you I'm writing this post with deepest care and love for you, full of respect and the highest regard for your feelings.
*
The face of the sun may darken forever;
The oceans may run dry in an instant;
The axis spinning our planet may shatter;
Like brittle crystal.
Yes! All of this may happen to me!
At the end
Death may cover me with his funeral shroud;
But none of it will reach within my soul and extinguish
The flame of your love.
- Gustavo Adolfo Bequer -
*
I believe your Mum does know how much you have loved her. She does know how much you always will ; love did not stop with the day she was forced to leave you. Today, from the place where she is now, she might imagine just that. Today she will discover that there has been no one in this world whose love reaches as far as hers. This is the miracle only a mother is capable to work. She has been the woman entitled to all the awards in the universe, but if you would ask her today she'd probably say she did not deserve a prize at all. She has been the woman so strong, she would have coped with everything that ever threatened to dull your happiness. When you were a little boy, did you never wonder whether she was a kind of superheroine or someone with a magic wand when she took away your sorrows? Many years have passed since then, but today I'm sure you are completely convinced she had some superhuman powers when she attended to your wounds, wounds not only at your knees but also at your heart. Today your Mum will touch your soul again. On a special day like this you will feel her presence in many little things that might go unnoticed on other days. Just look for them, and when you go to sleep tonight you will know what I meant. Little hints from Heaven, you will see!
She has been your nanny,. She has been your nurse. She has been your confessor. She has been your teacher of life. Your Mum will always be your eternal companion. She always knew how to put off your worries and, you might not have noticed yet, she has passed that gift to you. Anytime I have been with you I felt your care and thoughtfulness for others., your positivity to life. I have never met someone as special and beautiful as you, and I never will. I hope I can tell you this one day, and I can already imagine your reply. Same as your Mum, you'd feel embarrased because praise has never been yours. I can even hear your words when faced with all the incredible things you did and still do- 'It was nothing'. But it is not nothing, never was. It's an unbelievable privilege to know you and, likewise, an honour to see you as your mother's child. Although she sometimes felt defeated, her daily struggles and many chores could never break her. It was her strength and courage, the two traits most strong also in you, that kept her going. She has shown you that life is not for pleasure only; from her you've learnt that we must find a meaning in our lives. That's not always easy but it's the truth.
How can I know this I hear you ask. How can I write this with the greatest ease? How can I come around the corner with that kind of knowledge? I do know this because I know you. Over the years your Mum, same as you, has forged swords and shields for all the people close to her. The tools she gave you are made from the strongest and purest of all steels, and now you have the full army at your disposal to protect your heart. Her love is responsible that you do not simply adapt to any thing life is throwing your way. It is her legacy that you want to improve yourself and get better and better in your engagement with others and your world. You always wanted more and, one day, I know you will get what you're are longing for. With your Mum's example you've been equipped with the most important values that you know today and will always preserve: to love with all your heart; to use both hands- one to give and one to take; to be proud of yourself and all the wonderful achievments you have accomplished so far.
It's thanks to her to realise that your successes are yours and that your dreams have no expiration date. Your mother has taught you to never give up for she knew life is sometimes an unpredictable and quite difficult thing. You have learnt from her that life is not for gaining power or controlling others. Having her as long as you could has been your greatest benefit and encouragement. Mums do often know better what their children are able to, long before we know for ourselves. She guided you into your life and, looking at you today, she could not have done better. You might not see it, but you are still her deepest happiness and greatest pride. Today is the day I would like to thank her for you and the man you are, thank her for turning herself into your guardian angels again and again. I'd like to thank her for reducing your burdens as long as she could, for handling over her heart full of honest love and motherly understanding. Today she's looking down at you from the paradise where she is now, smiling and beaming at you with that special light in her eyes. I'm certain, and very rightly so, she's bursting with joy and gratification. And she will be winking at you, I'm pretty sure!
Happy birthday to your Mum!
To you, my dear, I want say, and I cannot emphasise this enough, please do not change.
She would not want that and neither do I. You are so beautiful as you are. I love you.
Ute
image: my own
******
The Way To Sunrise
25th of August 2019, by U.
They say
If you cannot sleep
Someone is thinking of you
You might want them to stop
But sorry,
Can't
U.
Image: my own
Platja de Palma, Oct 2018
Platja de Palma, Oct 2018
******
Love's Beautiful Twin Sister
4th of August 2019, by U.
Love is…when reality is like a dream, only more beautiful.
Love is…when two people need only one armchair.
Love is…the three little words that change your life.
Love is…taking the first step after a fight.
Love is...going out to eat and give them most of your fries without making them give you any of theirs.
Shall I do some more examples? Who does not know the endless list of sayings as such? I am sure you could contribute countless variations just like that. For my post I have randomly chosen five pearls of wisdom about love, and you might find them corny and trivial. Maybe you are right. Maybe not. There is so much more in these funny phrases than meets the eye.
All these little sayings tell us some things. Think for a moment about the variety of them. Their diversity gives proof of the human attempts to put into words a sensation that cannot be explained in simple structures. The wide range of possibilities just highlights our tries to find a way of describing that mysterious all-the-time-butterflies-in-the-belly feel, even after many years of togetherness. It is the feel that is called love. Why do we seem incapable of explaining? The thing is that love has no tight definition. Without any doubt we will know, of course, when Love has sent us the person who is perfect for us. Without any doubt we will recognise true love when he or she has walked straight into our hearts. From this moment on, life will be unique and precious and of an intensity we have never known before. Love itself, however, can never be reduced to one conclusive identification or one plain sentence. Love cannot be searched for, love just happens. Nothing is wrong or right in the name of love.
What do we mean when we say I love you? People claim to know what love is. But, can they? Can you, can I, can anyone justifiably insist he knows what love is? That't is a good question, right? The potpourri of Love's description is so different for everyone. Love comes around the corner in so many shapes and sizes and all our defenses come crushing down. Love cannot be seen or touched. Love must be felt with our hearts. The reason for this is that Love is not an isolated little thing. She rather is a colourful farrago of exclusively positive emotions like joy, attraction, cheerfulness, ease, vastness, protection, concealment, warmth, respect, trust, appreciation. In love, each of us swirls in a cocktail of all these emotions, but the recipe and the quantum of the ingredients can be poles apart for everyone. For one person prevails the feeling of protection among the other emotions, for another it is the sexual appeal that is more compelling in a relationship. This differs and is depending on our personal needs, but do you see the wonderful challenge this bears? Do you see the possibilities? To make it even more beautiful, it is never only one component in the magical mixture. It is always the overall composition of it. If, for example, we solely look for security we may have taken the wrong train. The person Love has chosen for us- and we have no saying in this at all!- is the catalyst for experiencing all these positive vibes. Recognising the one meant for you and therefore being caught up in a whirlwind of all those exciting feelings is the release switch for conquering the world together. Nothing will ever be the same again, it'll be much better.
Being with that person, or even only knowing that there is someone somewhere who would do anything to never let die those feelings in us, makes us extremely happy. And because the emotional turmoil is so spectacular and satisfying, we shine with bliss. We want to reciprocate with all we have, without adding up the benefits. In love, we want to give back even more than they have ever given to us. Little by little, we learn about the other one. In the process of learning and getting to know each other better something else, but equally unprecedented, happens. An entirely new but awesome world opens its doors. It is the world of growing together. It is the world of further development, of improving yourself and the relationship you are committed to. It is, also, a world of compromises, a world of finding agreement and mutual consent together. Tell me if you do not find this absolutely inspiring. It is, right? It's in the nature of all human beings, no matter whether women or men, that we need a challenge to exist and to have a fulfilled and interesting life. Everything that triggers our uniqueness and the encouragement to show our innermost parts, first and foremost the parts that are contrary to those of our partners, is something exclusively wanted and appreciated in love. Our singularity and vulnerability are in fact the most powerful instruments we have at hand in that exciting endeavour. Being amidst the unpredictableness Love confronts us with has a wonderful side effect on us. It makes us grateful. So, when we say I love you we also mean I'm ever so grateful for having you with me. And with that, just with that, we have encountered Love's twin sister, Gratefulness. Love is the one side of the coin. Gratefulness, however, is the other side, and she deserves as much attention and honour as her sister Love.
As it is often with twins, from time to time both sisters appear to be the spitting image of one another, but the contrast between them could hardly be more extreme. Love between a man and a woman cannot be unconditional and yet it should come with no strings attached. Sounds illogical? No, it does not. I think it is actually a good thought. Unconditional love is a mother's or father's love for their child which is based on nothing else than the family bond. But we are not mother or father to our partners, are we? We are lovers. With body and soul. As lovers, we can only give everything we have to the other one when there is room enough for being our own persons as well. We need time for ourselves, we need solitude every now and again to go for our own ideas and needs. Not changing ourselves all too much, not bending to fit into the expectations of others are essential in a relationship where Love is always a guest at the table. Gratefulness, in every case, is most unconditional a companion. She comes our way with an all-inclusive package. Despite our responsibilities and duties, with her in our house we will never disappear in the crowd. We are grateful for every new day we can breathe on this earth, but do not love Monday mornings in particular, do we? We can be grateful when we discover someone is lying to us, and it hurts so deeply. For Love, as an opposite, lying can mean the end of it. If the mistake was ours we can understand it. Actions cannot be taken back, however much we may want to. Love can make itself scarce for some time. Or, she can even be absent in a relationship. Gratefulness is never amiss for there have been good times and happy moments as well, even though difficult periods might have got the best of us. Please give yourself a second and try to recall a time when someone or something made you truly grateful. Can you still feel the energy it sends through your body, the warmth they or it has given to you? Remembering can help you to go on with life, can it not? It makes many things easier.
It does not take much to truly love someone or to be grateful. It does not take much to surprise someone. But whether it is Gratefulneess or Love changes everything. Both sisters are beautiful in their own right. Sometimes it is not entirely clear which one is currently acting on life's stage. But then again, you must not ask whether it is Love or Gratefulness. Your heart is never uncertain. It will always know.
With all my love,
Ute
References of the image: The Cholmondeley Ladies
Unknown artist, Britain c. 1600- 1610
For further knowledge about their enchanting story please visit https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/unknown-artist-britain-the-cholmondeley-ladies-t00069
Unknown artist, Britain c. 1600- 1610
For further knowledge about their enchanting story please visit https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/unknown-artist-britain-the-cholmondeley-ladies-t00069
******
For One More Day
8th Aprtil 2019, by U.
1968
1968 was a very special year in every aspect. Particularly today's date back in 1968 made it absolutely unique. In order to celebrate this day, also a Monday by the way, let's look at 1968 from various- sometimes humorous- angles. So, this is especially for you.
Music
On April 3, Simon & Garfunkel set a musical milestone. The duo releases the album "Bookends". Here is a wonderful song from the album, Old Friends.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7A76lTte8qE
In August the British folk-singer Sandy Denny and the band The Strawbs release the once-in-a-hundred- years gem of a song Who Knows Where The Time Goes. Please enjoy.
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ycaoV0WXfk
In Hertford, 'the globe's loudest band' forms and immediately creates a stir in the world of progressive rock music. Deep Purple was born.
Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider-Esleben, two German musicians, found the band Organisation. The band name later changed to Kraftwerk. Their well-known song Autobahn reached position 11 in the UK Charts in 1974, in Germany they made it to position 9. This was topped by the song Das Model (The Man-Machine) from 1982 which reached the top position in the UK Charts and no. 7 in Germany.
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCKybI5BjEY
At the end of August the Rolling Stones full-throatedly sing their Street Fighting Man. Meanwhile the Beatles vocalise Revolution. Both of them do not mean it.
A fundamental change to previous works astonish the music world and fans of Van Morrison. After wandering around a little aimlessly he releases the album Astral Works. Experts see his album as one of his greatest, an Impressionistic diamond of songwriting altogether. Here is my favourite song. Sweet Thing.
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QzDWIOUnM0
UK Chart positions in week 15 (8 April 1968 to 14 April 1868)
1. Lady Madonna The Beatles
2. Delilah Tom Jones
3. Congratulations Cliff Richard
4. (Sittin'On) The Dock Of The Bay Otis Redding
5. What A Wonderful World Louis Armstrong
1. Lady Madonna The Beatles
2. Delilah Tom Jones
3. Congratulations Cliff Richard
4. (Sittin'On) The Dock Of The Bay Otis Redding
5. What A Wonderful World Louis Armstrong
Art
I'd like to start with a fascinating Italian artist. Renato Guttoso's early works are a representation of his political views; he was a communist par excellence. As we very well know, viewpoints, opinions and tastes are personal for everyone. We can agree or we cannot. What we also can do is talk about it until it reveals its beauty to us. 1947 Guttoso marries Mimise Dotti. From then on the female body is domineering in his works. Another driving force of sensuality and sexuality in his work is linked with his muse, Marta Marzotto. I do like the series Amanti which paintings and sketches point to the relationship and were created in 1968 and the following years.
References of the images: www.mutualart.com
#1: Renato Guttoso, Amanti,Untitled, 1968
#2: Renato Guttoso, Gli Amanti, 1970
#1: Renato Guttoso, Amanti,Untitled, 1968
#2: Renato Guttoso, Gli Amanti, 1970
In Berlin, Germany, the Neue Nationalgalerie opened its gates. The exhibition is famous for works by Picasso, Joan Miró, and Wassily Kandinsky.
Always good for a surprise was Pablo Picasso, wasn't he? Pablo went through many different periods during his artistic life. There was an El Greco period, a Paul Gauguin period and so forth. Most frequently however, and markedly intense at the same time, he turned his attention to the French painter Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres. Always on the lookout for something new and exciting, or when in a creative crisis, or during a turning point in love and life, Picasso's eyes automatically fell on works by the French. His admiration for Ingres, especially in Picasso's later works, were expressed in exact copies and parodies of his idol. Maybe Picasso entered into a thought-provoking dialoque with Jean-Auguste? Saying perhaps: 'Hey, watch out, Jean! You did it once and now it's my turn, and I'm going much further now!' Could be very characteristic for Picasso, could it not?
The original, Le Bain Turc by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1863
Reference of the image: https://de.wikipedia.org
Reference of the image: https://de.wikipedia.org
Pablo's version when he made his incredible 347 Series, August 1968
Reference of the image: https://www.tate.org.uk
Reference of the image: https://www.tate.org.uk
When I was in Palma, which happened quite several times last year for work matters, I happily jumped at the chance of learning more about the Spanish art scene. There is one painter you should not miss. Joan Miró's paintings in a style of poetic literalism are breathtakingly meaningful and so expressive! Please look for yourself at the work below, an example of Joan's extrordinary pictoral language.
The year 1968 was one for revolutions, one for the desire for freedom. One for love, too. Artists, no matter what medium was theirs, used their artistic voices to protest and stir up countries and their people. The creations coming out of this were personal campaings against bloodshed with no cause, injustice, stupidity, insane political decisions, and so much more. One of them who was always playing with a palette of daring primary colours and beaming geometric forms to influence the world dramatically was Roy Lichtenstein. A great example of Roy's gift, highly smart and courageous of course, to lampoon and critisise absurd ideas was his work Preparedness from 1968.
Preparedness, Roy Lichtenstein, 1968
Reference of the image: guggenheim.org
Reference of the image: guggenheim.org
Books
Since I am a very keen reader I am not able to avoid a look at the book publications from 1968. The first one that caught my Attention was Tigers Are Better-Looking by Jean Rhys, a book with very modern short stories. I read reviews on the book while searching for literature and ordered the book right away. After reading I'll come back to it and talk about it. I think it is quite wonderful. Here is an excerpt that sounds amazing.
“....one of those long, romantic novels, six hundred and fifty pages of small print, translated from French or German or Hungarian or something -- because few of the English ones have the exact feeling I mean. And you read one page of it or even one phrase of it, and then you gobble up all the rest and go about in a dream for weeks afterwards, for months afterwards -- perhaps all your life, who knows? -- surrounded by those six hundred and fifty pages, the houses, the streets, the snow, the river, the roses, the girls, the sun, the ladies' dresses and the gentlemen's voices, the old, wicked, hard-hearted women and the old, sad women, the waltz music -- everything. What is not there you put in afterwards, for it is alive, this book, and it grows in your head. 'The house I was living in when I read that book,' you think, or 'This colour reminds me of that book.”
― Jean Rhys, Tigers are Better-Looking: With a selection from The Left Bank
“....one of those long, romantic novels, six hundred and fifty pages of small print, translated from French or German or Hungarian or something -- because few of the English ones have the exact feeling I mean. And you read one page of it or even one phrase of it, and then you gobble up all the rest and go about in a dream for weeks afterwards, for months afterwards -- perhaps all your life, who knows? -- surrounded by those six hundred and fifty pages, the houses, the streets, the snow, the river, the roses, the girls, the sun, the ladies' dresses and the gentlemen's voices, the old, wicked, hard-hearted women and the old, sad women, the waltz music -- everything. What is not there you put in afterwards, for it is alive, this book, and it grows in your head. 'The house I was living in when I read that book,' you think, or 'This colour reminds me of that book.”
― Jean Rhys, Tigers are Better-Looking: With a selection from The Left Bank
Next one is a children's book and it is very funny I think, and teaching. Opposites, opposites! They are the main topic in the book that is an easy read for our little ones. Please have a look at The Foot Book by Dr. Seuss.
Slow feet, Quick feet.
Trick feet, Sick feet.
Up feet, Down feet.
Here come clown feet.
Small feet, Big feet.
Here come pig feet.
His feet, Her feet.
Fuzzy fur feet.
Left foot. Right foot.
Feet. Feet. Feet.
Oh, how many
feet you meet!”
Slow feet, Quick feet.
Trick feet, Sick feet.
Up feet, Down feet.
Here come clown feet.
Small feet, Big feet.
Here come pig feet.
His feet, Her feet.
Fuzzy fur feet.
Left foot. Right foot.
Feet. Feet. Feet.
Oh, how many
feet you meet!”
References: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Foot_Book
Another interesting book published in 1968 that made it straight to the top of my wish list is A Small Town In Germany by John le Carré'.
- A man is missing. Harting, refugee background, a Junior Something in the British Embassy in Bonn. Gone with him are forty-three files, all of them Confidential or above. It is vital that the Germans do not learn that Harting is missing, nor that there's been a leak. With radical students and neo-Nazis rioting and critical negotiations under way in Brussels, the timing could not be worse -- and that's probably not an accident. Alan Turner, London's security officer, is sent to Bonn to find the missing man and files as Germany's past, present, and future threaten to collide in a nightmare of violence. - Goodreads
Here is an intriguing quote from the book:
“It was his shoes, he noticed to his pleasure, that she most objected to; and he thought: bloody good, that's what shoes are for.”
The last selection of mine was a recommendation a few years ago and I am intrigued by the drama ever since. In fact, I couldn't be more amazed. In 1968, the second volume of a quartet was published, Paul Scott's The Day Of The Scorpion. The epic novels are so rich in history, so excotic and new, and incredibly spellbinding, I read them twice already and often turn back to them for Paul Scott's captivating language and manner of speech. For each of it is extraordinary in its own right, I am incapable of telling you which one I like best. It is rare that books make me cry, albeit I'm often very touched by stories and their emotional content. But these books did make me cry. More often than I wished they had, I started reading them in September 2016. I understood a lot from these books afterwards, and they are held in very high regard as a treasury in my bookshelf. There exists a great adaption for TV which I'd like to recommend as well for it is very close the book.
References: Image my own
My dear,
Hasn't 1968 been a wonderful year? And now you, born in the same year on this very day, and my very reason for writing the post. The 8th of April in 1968 undoubtedly was the happiest day in your mother's life. And it should turn out that, many years later, that day became the happiest for me, too. By some miracle, we met and I had the privilege to get to know you for a while, and, yes, to see your soul. I am forever grateful for the moment that shifted my life into another wonderful and undreamed-of dimension. It is these precious moments, you see, when someone else's world blunders right into yours and everything changes. As we both know, based on my brilliant performance, very harmful and hurting things happened, and my world without you sank into a disaster. It's redundant to go into that again, and there is nothing I can say now. However hurtful and unwanted current circumstances might be for me, the person I carry deep in my heart is never lost. Such a heart, especially mine, is a quite rebellious but very strong little thing. I still have to learn to walk with a longing in my heart that has the true likeness of you. No one else can ever fit into it. Why would I want them to, anyway? I very much embrace and acknowledge the fact that I, most certainly, will end up loving you without you unequally longer than I loved you when you were with me in person. You might find that unexpected, but, if I think about it, it is not. How can it be when you are the best thing that ever happened to me? When you make my days very special, no matter whether you are personally present or not? When, in accordance of the wonderful things you have taught and given me, I see the world with different eyes? When there is no place and no minute without you? It is not that surprising then, is it? I have found that the extent of love I feel for you and, in consequence, the immensely positive influence you have on me, is in no way correlative to the extent of time I had with you. Love always knows its way and confidently believing in it is what keeps me dancing. I cannot turn back time, but maybe, just maybe, it is what I do now that counts. So....the little roundel of 1968 is my personal way to congratulate and wish you a very happy birthday. Have a great time today. I cannot say how much I miss you, and so I wish for only one more day with you. One more day to hear your voice that tells me you are alright. One more day to talk about the things I did not say when I should have. One more day to say I love you. Because I do and always will.
Ute
Hasn't 1968 been a wonderful year? And now you, born in the same year on this very day, and my very reason for writing the post. The 8th of April in 1968 undoubtedly was the happiest day in your mother's life. And it should turn out that, many years later, that day became the happiest for me, too. By some miracle, we met and I had the privilege to get to know you for a while, and, yes, to see your soul. I am forever grateful for the moment that shifted my life into another wonderful and undreamed-of dimension. It is these precious moments, you see, when someone else's world blunders right into yours and everything changes. As we both know, based on my brilliant performance, very harmful and hurting things happened, and my world without you sank into a disaster. It's redundant to go into that again, and there is nothing I can say now. However hurtful and unwanted current circumstances might be for me, the person I carry deep in my heart is never lost. Such a heart, especially mine, is a quite rebellious but very strong little thing. I still have to learn to walk with a longing in my heart that has the true likeness of you. No one else can ever fit into it. Why would I want them to, anyway? I very much embrace and acknowledge the fact that I, most certainly, will end up loving you without you unequally longer than I loved you when you were with me in person. You might find that unexpected, but, if I think about it, it is not. How can it be when you are the best thing that ever happened to me? When you make my days very special, no matter whether you are personally present or not? When, in accordance of the wonderful things you have taught and given me, I see the world with different eyes? When there is no place and no minute without you? It is not that surprising then, is it? I have found that the extent of love I feel for you and, in consequence, the immensely positive influence you have on me, is in no way correlative to the extent of time I had with you. Love always knows its way and confidently believing in it is what keeps me dancing. I cannot turn back time, but maybe, just maybe, it is what I do now that counts. So....the little roundel of 1968 is my personal way to congratulate and wish you a very happy birthday. Have a great time today. I cannot say how much I miss you, and so I wish for only one more day with you. One more day to hear your voice that tells me you are alright. One more day to talk about the things I did not say when I should have. One more day to say I love you. Because I do and always will.
Ute
******
I Love You- More Than a String of Words
14th February 2019, by U.
References: Neon Art by Tracey Emin, created February 2013
https://www.artspace.com/tracey_emin/i-promise-to-love-you-1
https://www.artspace.com/tracey_emin/i-promise-to-love-you-1
You have found love when you realise you would never do this for anyone else. Ever.
It is a simple as that.
Happy Valentine's Day.
*
It is a simple as that.
Happy Valentine's Day.
*
******
Then I go out at night to paint the stars.
- Vincent van Gogh -
31st December 2018, by U.
Vincent van Gogh, Starry Night Over the Rhône, 1888, oil on canvas
Musée d'Orsay, Paris
Musée d'Orsay, Paris
My dearest,
Eventually, the end of the year has come. It is my time to reflect on the past and to look forward to the next twelve months. It was another year without you, and I missed you. I missed you last year and I will miss you the next. I am delighted to count so many things I really am grateful for- but, and that is a bittersweet feeling when it comes to New Year - I cannot count you. I am delighted to have people around me to whom I say how much I love and need them- but I cannot say it to you. New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day will never be as wonderful as they were with you- but I cannot tell you.
Even so, and trying to stifle the sorrow of not having you with me anymore at bay at this moment, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are two most incredible and bright looking companions. Please do not worry that you cannot see that right now, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are expert people finders. Tonight, when they encounter you and you recognise them, each will be carrying a satchelful of hopes. Hopes just for you, and among them I have sent mine, too.
#1
I hope there is much happiness and laughter on every day of your life and with whatever you do. There is no one else who deserves that more than you do.
#2
My next hope for you is time. Time that is filled with nothing but love, with kindness and smiles, with health and anything you need. Time should be given to you in as much of an abundance as available.
#3
I hope your natural gift of making everyone around you happy never fades. There is no one else I know who’s first interest is always the well-being of the people close to you, no matter what you are going through yourself. I hope you keep up your adorable stance that their sails are your sails and vice versa because for me this describes all your beauty.
#4
I hope your heart and your warmth stay always so overwhelmingly big. They are bigger and deeper than anyone else’s, and they make you so stand out. Nothing for you is a solo sport ever; you have understood that life works better when people are able to preserve an open mind and tolerance towards each other. How wonderful.
#5
Another one in the roundel of my hopes for you is that you pursue your ideas. Ideas always so differently from others and all the way so fascinating. I hope you engage in your talents and gifts with passion. Gifts like painting or sketching, talents like designing and creating. I hope you can enjoy your deep love for art and music, your penchant for cars and fashion just the way you would like to.
#6
I hope you accomplish everything you see worth next year. I hope you will not give up when you might miss an opportunity for what reason ever. Please do not be disappointed or discouraged if you cannot achieve what you would like at first try. Do never forget that you do enough and that you yourself are always more than enough.
#7
I hope the inspiration radiating from you always reaches many, many people. I know you for quite a time now and I can tell firsthand how unbelievably impacting and breathtaking your presence is. Even after years I still feel your touch. Even after years I still benefit from what you have shown and introduced me to. Even after years I appreciate and enjoy all the positive changes of myself and my life you have ,unconsciously of course, effected. Even after years I learn from your views and opinions. That's very precious and I don't want to have it otherwise. I love you so much for that.
#8
Another point I dearly hope for you to continue with is your writing. Write. Please, please write away about anything you always wanted to talk about. You have no idea how particular and captivating your writing and explaining is. You have no idea how surprisingly well-placed amd to the point your questions and findings are. You have no idea at all how much a writer and thinker like you is needed to converse about anything and everything. You have no idea how much it tells about you and your uniqueness. You and your thoughts are a gem and I hope you see how much your voice matters to us. You have never been aware how much you move people with it, but you do. Oh yes, you do.
#9
I hope that any situation that is painful or difficult for you will pass and you come out of it stronger than before. Many times already you were forced to prove your strength, and at times a kind of sadness or melancholic thoughtfulness was trying to catch up with you. I certainly know that. I also know very well you have been hurt enough in your life. But please carry on without fear and believe in love. Please do. There is love and I think you know that, you as a person matter so much. So very much.
#10
I hope you have the courage to show your fragile heart and your sensitivity. Do express when you feel off-guard, or when you are most vulnerable, or a little lonely. I know, putting yourself out there can be an unfamiliar emotion, but after all, even tears have their own melody, you see. They expose your innermost feelings and there is nothing wrong with that. Don't try to be invisible and speak your heart even if it feels safer and easier not to. You are far too dazzling a character for that and you should fight for your dreams. If you try, and I hope you do, it might go snowballing from there and who knows? This might turn into the most lovely and brilliant year of your life ever. Never say never- that's your words. Do you remember?
#11
The last thing that will be given to you from the miraculous New Year's satchels is not hope. It is an acknowledgement. A very honest one, and one that will betray my inner feelings. Thank you for making my world brighter by, although not in person, still being in it. Thank you so much for often turning the most ordinary events in my life into quite enchanting ones. Still, and I love it! Thank you for making me smile when I am reminded on you through many things during my days. That's so very often, too! Thank you for making me miss you because I then realise how irreplaceable you are. Thank you for still challenging and encouraging me to get a better person. Thank you for protecting me because you still do. Thank you for filling me with wonder and spirit and passion and persistence. I know what is worth fighting for and I will. Thank you for helping me see the magic of what love is capable of bringing about. A love that will always remain with me.
Can you make it by midnight? Look at the stars with me? Oh, I wish you could. My heartfelt wish for you is that you have the most wonderful New Year's Eve. A very happy New Year to you.
I love you.
*
Eventually, the end of the year has come. It is my time to reflect on the past and to look forward to the next twelve months. It was another year without you, and I missed you. I missed you last year and I will miss you the next. I am delighted to count so many things I really am grateful for- but, and that is a bittersweet feeling when it comes to New Year - I cannot count you. I am delighted to have people around me to whom I say how much I love and need them- but I cannot say it to you. New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day will never be as wonderful as they were with you- but I cannot tell you.
Even so, and trying to stifle the sorrow of not having you with me anymore at bay at this moment, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are two most incredible and bright looking companions. Please do not worry that you cannot see that right now, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are expert people finders. Tonight, when they encounter you and you recognise them, each will be carrying a satchelful of hopes. Hopes just for you, and among them I have sent mine, too.
#1
I hope there is much happiness and laughter on every day of your life and with whatever you do. There is no one else who deserves that more than you do.
#2
My next hope for you is time. Time that is filled with nothing but love, with kindness and smiles, with health and anything you need. Time should be given to you in as much of an abundance as available.
#3
I hope your natural gift of making everyone around you happy never fades. There is no one else I know who’s first interest is always the well-being of the people close to you, no matter what you are going through yourself. I hope you keep up your adorable stance that their sails are your sails and vice versa because for me this describes all your beauty.
#4
I hope your heart and your warmth stay always so overwhelmingly big. They are bigger and deeper than anyone else’s, and they make you so stand out. Nothing for you is a solo sport ever; you have understood that life works better when people are able to preserve an open mind and tolerance towards each other. How wonderful.
#5
Another one in the roundel of my hopes for you is that you pursue your ideas. Ideas always so differently from others and all the way so fascinating. I hope you engage in your talents and gifts with passion. Gifts like painting or sketching, talents like designing and creating. I hope you can enjoy your deep love for art and music, your penchant for cars and fashion just the way you would like to.
#6
I hope you accomplish everything you see worth next year. I hope you will not give up when you might miss an opportunity for what reason ever. Please do not be disappointed or discouraged if you cannot achieve what you would like at first try. Do never forget that you do enough and that you yourself are always more than enough.
#7
I hope the inspiration radiating from you always reaches many, many people. I know you for quite a time now and I can tell firsthand how unbelievably impacting and breathtaking your presence is. Even after years I still feel your touch. Even after years I still benefit from what you have shown and introduced me to. Even after years I appreciate and enjoy all the positive changes of myself and my life you have ,unconsciously of course, effected. Even after years I learn from your views and opinions. That's very precious and I don't want to have it otherwise. I love you so much for that.
#8
Another point I dearly hope for you to continue with is your writing. Write. Please, please write away about anything you always wanted to talk about. You have no idea how particular and captivating your writing and explaining is. You have no idea how surprisingly well-placed amd to the point your questions and findings are. You have no idea at all how much a writer and thinker like you is needed to converse about anything and everything. You have no idea how much it tells about you and your uniqueness. You and your thoughts are a gem and I hope you see how much your voice matters to us. You have never been aware how much you move people with it, but you do. Oh yes, you do.
#9
I hope that any situation that is painful or difficult for you will pass and you come out of it stronger than before. Many times already you were forced to prove your strength, and at times a kind of sadness or melancholic thoughtfulness was trying to catch up with you. I certainly know that. I also know very well you have been hurt enough in your life. But please carry on without fear and believe in love. Please do. There is love and I think you know that, you as a person matter so much. So very much.
#10
I hope you have the courage to show your fragile heart and your sensitivity. Do express when you feel off-guard, or when you are most vulnerable, or a little lonely. I know, putting yourself out there can be an unfamiliar emotion, but after all, even tears have their own melody, you see. They expose your innermost feelings and there is nothing wrong with that. Don't try to be invisible and speak your heart even if it feels safer and easier not to. You are far too dazzling a character for that and you should fight for your dreams. If you try, and I hope you do, it might go snowballing from there and who knows? This might turn into the most lovely and brilliant year of your life ever. Never say never- that's your words. Do you remember?
#11
The last thing that will be given to you from the miraculous New Year's satchels is not hope. It is an acknowledgement. A very honest one, and one that will betray my inner feelings. Thank you for making my world brighter by, although not in person, still being in it. Thank you so much for often turning the most ordinary events in my life into quite enchanting ones. Still, and I love it! Thank you for making me smile when I am reminded on you through many things during my days. That's so very often, too! Thank you for making me miss you because I then realise how irreplaceable you are. Thank you for still challenging and encouraging me to get a better person. Thank you for protecting me because you still do. Thank you for filling me with wonder and spirit and passion and persistence. I know what is worth fighting for and I will. Thank you for helping me see the magic of what love is capable of bringing about. A love that will always remain with me.
Can you make it by midnight? Look at the stars with me? Oh, I wish you could. My heartfelt wish for you is that you have the most wonderful New Year's Eve. A very happy New Year to you.
I love you.
*
References: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Starry_Night_Over_the_Rh%C3%B4ne
******
A very Merry Christmas to you.
25th December 2018, by U.
Photo: 23 December 2018
I would have laughed
If you had told me
A day would come
When I, calm and silent,
Would be dreaming
In English
I would have
Never believed you
Thought you sweet
And crazy probably
However, the night came
They still come
Frequently
I knew then
As I know now
I am home
*
Love you.
The December-ish You
References: Lambchop, The December-rish You (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRKeoOBnUhk)
******
Your True Colours.
10th September 2018, by U.
Photograph: Inselsee Güstrow, July 2018
This post is for her. It is for the woman I, sadly and to my deepest regret, have never had the fortune to know. It is for the woman your own story began with. This is for your mother. Today is her birthday and, please excuse my intrusiveness for one more time, I can't help writing this for her. Please understand.
This post is for you, too. For you are, and this is my deepest belief, your Mum's greatest masterpiece. And I know, oh I know, you'd do anything in your power to have one more chance to converse with her. Only one more hour perhaps to look at her beautiful smile that has always been like an embrace to you. Only one more moment to hold her in your arms. Only one more time to feel the purest love only a mother can give. She knows that, honey. She knows better than anyone else because she feels exactly the same, being at that place where she is right now. Losing your mother is just too hard to comprehend. It is an experience too incising to ever fit into your further life. Letting her go is a permanent wound that never heals entirely, and you are forced to grow around it. Death steals the word 'Mum' from your language and if you are to understand such a loss you can understand human nature. This is never possible, is it?
Photograph: Some flowers for your Mum, September 2018
Your Mum is the woman who taught you that you have a pair of beautiful wings. She taught you how to fly with them. When you were a little hesitant and perhaps not sure whether you can use them, she might have said, "Be afraid and do it anyway, there is nothing wrong with it." Then, when she had to leave you, your wings got broken. To your surprise, and you had to learn it the hard way, you noticed you can move. Still, and without those wings. For simple manoeuvres and to stay alive you don't necessarily need wings, do you? But you miss them, you miss her. Every single day. You miss her way to smile and her winking at you which meant "You're doing so well, my darling." From the moment she died the backup was gone with her. Instead, you had to go into any challenge alone. She made you strong, and she was and is the bridge to yourself. Your Mum made you strong because she always lives in your heart. For she is there, within you where you keep her very safe and warm, she is never truly gone. If you look into this wonderful place, your Mum can come back to you any time your sky is falling and you ask for her. She will look after you as long as you need her by your side. The soft touch of her fingers that you sometimes feel, even at unlikely occasions and when you expect it the least, tells you she has never stopped fighting for you like a tigress. Or, if a beam of sunlight kisses your nose, that is her too.
Her birthday is a day to celebrate. I don't know how to thank her for what she has given us with you. Being with her for all the time you could has left its incredible own mark. A mark so lovely and strong that, if your Mum could see you today, she'd put her hands over her heart just to still its overjoyed beating. It is not so much the similarity between her and you. You have her amazing eyes, very dark and knowing. Oh, yours sometimes also in a warm amber tone when the light falls into them a certain way, come to that. It is not your voice, warm and honeyed and soft. It is not your words, written or spoken, ever so accurate and well-articulated. It is not the way you dress, stylish and classy, elegant and minimalist at the same time. It is the quality of your character, the person you have become. First with her help when you were a boy, but much more distinctive and telling after you were alone. It is your personality that will be of mind-blowing effect to her. It is the knowledge you gained, your strength, your passion, your kindness, your unbelievable creativity, your sense of self. Please do not look back and wish you could change parts of your past with her or turn back time. Your Mum wouldn't want that. Every moment you open yourself up, every moment you decide to be real and emotional and fragile is the most beautiful one to her. To feel deeply, to be vulnerable at times are the most powerful and sublime things you can do. You are so perfect as you are. This is what your mother sees because nothing could be more true. It is enough for her.
Today, she wants you to be alright. This is my deepest wish, too.
All her love is where you are. And so is mine.
Don't be afraid of falling. Fly again.
Beautiful idea? Yes, it is. Because you can.
Here is my song for the two of you.
With all my love, U.
Arvo Pärt, Mirror In The Mirror
References: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ6Mzvh3XCc
******
More Than Enough
12th July 2018, by U.
Palma, July 2018
There will never be
Enough time
To give up for less.
Less love,
Less wonders,
Less surprises,
Less joy,
Less sensitivity,
Less passion.
Less you.
Within me there is
Nothing but peace
Understanding this.
Enough time
To give up for less.
Less love,
Less wonders,
Less surprises,
Less joy,
Less sensitivity,
Less passion.
Less you.
Within me there is
Nothing but peace
Understanding this.
******
The Tate and I.
Bernard Cohen 'Matter of Identity I', 1963
Learning Gallery, Tate London in April 2018
Learning Gallery, Tate London in April 2018
22nd April 2018, by U.
Coming to London has actually been a journey that meant the most to me. For some very personal reasons I booked just that date, that special week. I needed to be close to things I'm still more than connected to, things I experienced with you. Things we talked about, things we have shown each other. Things we have learnt from one another. Being there meant, even though there was no way to get in touch with you and I hadn't planned that at all, feeling your presence and your spirit more than I already do when I am in Germany at home or elsewhere. Coming here also meant coming to terms with the past, with the mistakes I made. Failures that made me ask myself 'Was that really who I am? Was that me? Am I so bad a person?' I have understood that there is a 'no' to all three questions and it's been a long way. There are still days, frequently, when I can't look in the mirror because I'm ashamed of myself. When I feel that I undoubtedly deserve to be without you. How to process when you have let down someone you cared about the most? How to process when that someone is the one you love? How to process things you did and you know you can't take them back, however much you wish to?
What we do is spending a lot of time with these mistakes because doing this makes us feel like we are at least doing something. We punish ourselves because we don't know how to clear up things; we don't know what else to do. These are feelings that leave us helpless in the dark, not able to move an inch. But sooner or later, punishing and being angry with ourselves does not do any good. All it actually does is internalise the regret and the pain within us, instead of repairing what we have done and let it go and melt into thin air. Dwelling and punishing keeps the pain alive and makes the ones around us miss out on experiencing who we really are. They will miss out on seeing the wonderful people we have been before we made the mistake, the beautiful people that are still there.
How can you break the barriers, then? How to cease the pain that tears us apart? Everyone of us is different and people have their own ways to fix things, of course. First of all, I apologised; I aplogised so often that you said 'You can't apologise forever'. But I wanted to, over and over again because I wanted you to understand that I am not the bad person you saw through the mistake. Pure fear of eventually losing you made me aplogise a thousand times and I meant it. It came from the bottom of my heart. When things had changed and you had left I accepted the responsibility for what I had done. I accepted I had failed miserably. Acknowledging this was not only important for me, accepting was and is absolutely mandatory to allow myself to give you what you needed. I wanted you to be happy. This is still my biggest wish today. I needed to make sure you are well and the only way was accepting what you considered as the best for you and decided about us. I had lost my privilege to have a say, to ask you to stay. Knowing you so well by now, I saw that it was impossible for you to react any different. I did what I could to repair the situation, I tried hard to keep on what you had asked me to. I tried to keep the promises I made to you and, to be quite honest, it did not always work for me, regardless of the fact that I completely understood your decision. To genuine was (and still is) my love to you and deep in me I was not able to let you go like this. But then, just this love helped me to see clear. I faced what I always knew: You will always be with me every step of my way. You are in my heart and no one else will ever be what you are to me. Listening to myself very carefully and recognising this marked the begin to process the past and I did even more. I smiled to people because they deserve me being at my best. I talked and confessed not only to you but also to the people very close to me, my family and a friend of mine and her husband. I learnt my lesson and now I know that the most telling thing about me is who I am and behave after the mistake. I can repair what I can, I can repair what is in my power. I can do it and one day, perhaps, I will be able to forgive myself.
Well, I'm not proud of this. At all. I haven't been great at handling it and it does not mean I will ever forget what I have done. It does not mean I will pretend and act like my mistake had never happened. I still have to cope with what happened and I will because I am strong. Coming to the Tate was one of these things to manage. When I entered the Learning Gallery, the place I was once supposed to meet the person I love like no other, I could hardly breathe. Do you know the feeling when you switch off the radio in your car because you cannot listen to a song that reminds you on moments you miss the most? That reminds you on people you have lost? That would make you cry any second if you'd continue listening? Yes, it is exactly that feeling and the pain is unbearable. I stood there for a couple of minutes and fought back my tears, trying hard to control my emotions. I imagined seeing you there, waiting for me. You with your brown eyes that I knew I'd never tire of. I never wanted to hurt you or your family. Ever. I never wanted you to leave. Ever.
The things that happened are part of me now. My mistake is part of my history and I cannot undo my wrongdoing.
It is part of the person who I am today and it made me wiser. I can, however, work on becoming a better me.
And I can still love you. Because I do. Truly and real.
******
If You Ever Feel You've Lost My Love...
30th March 2018, by U.
You always said you didn't know what love is. Oh, you did. You did. If only you knew you did. You've been the only one who've ever taught me what love really is and means. How love should be and what love can do for the two people sharing it.
I have hurt you so very much. I hurt you in every possible way. Probably more than you've ever been hurt by anyone else. I know that. Please believe me, if I were able to turn back time to when it wasn't too late to make it alright, I would. Oh, I would. You must have felt like a fool when everything crashed down on you like an avalanche. There is no one but myself to blame; I behaved so badly and you didn't deserve anything of it. Of course you did not.
I've been reading your articles, earlier this morning. And, like every time I go to your posts, I felt ever so slightly nervous and also excited at the same time. Your thoughts continuously amaze me. Furthermore, they are my only connection to you. This is so you, so everything you are. This is so what you should do; it is so full of your otherness, your beauty. There is so much of the artist within you. I see how you sometimes edit a sentence or a whole section, even though the first version was already perfect and intriguing. That's very lovely of you and I'm touched. I like it because I know exactly how you feel with writing. There are also your songs. I still can understand and you talk to me through the music you choose. I can see how you are, if it's been a good or maybe difficult day, and I even can sense how you momentarily feel when the song is playing the evening you posted it.
You must know, I'm more proud of you than you will ever be able to understand. You've always been so passionate a boy who goes his way through life with bravery. And, you're so much stronger than you think, stronger than anyone I know. You have no idea just how special you are and what a difference you make.
After we said goodbye for the last time in September, I tried not to think of you again. Well, I should have known I couldn’t stop thinking of you, and so I do. Every single day. I love you. I probably always have. I always will. More than you will ever know.
I haven't been able to look again at what we've written, all those wonderful letters. I could not do so since we parted in August over a year ago, I still can't. I kept them and maybe, one day, I will be strong enough to read them again. They are my precious memories, despite the circumstances in which they have been written. I've learnt my lesson well and I'm still struggling with the outcome and what I did to you. More so, they are a constant reminder of my failures, and nevertheless they are, quite simultaneously, full of love and true inner feelings.
I won't complain, this is what I must live with because I made things that way.
Regardless, all I can think of today is how different my world would be if I hadn’t done so wrong. But then again, accepting something I can't change, however much I wish this would be different (and it is almost killing me that I can't do anything to make amends), is probably the biggest strength one can possess. Accepting what is good and right for the other one is love, too.
With all my love,
U.
Photo: 31 March 2018
You always said you didn't know what love is. Oh, you did. You did. If only you knew you did. You've been the only one who've ever taught me what love really is and means. How love should be and what love can do for the two people sharing it.
I have hurt you so very much. I hurt you in every possible way. Probably more than you've ever been hurt by anyone else. I know that. Please believe me, if I were able to turn back time to when it wasn't too late to make it alright, I would. Oh, I would. You must have felt like a fool when everything crashed down on you like an avalanche. There is no one but myself to blame; I behaved so badly and you didn't deserve anything of it. Of course you did not.
I've been reading your articles, earlier this morning. And, like every time I go to your posts, I felt ever so slightly nervous and also excited at the same time. Your thoughts continuously amaze me. Furthermore, they are my only connection to you. This is so you, so everything you are. This is so what you should do; it is so full of your otherness, your beauty. There is so much of the artist within you. I see how you sometimes edit a sentence or a whole section, even though the first version was already perfect and intriguing. That's very lovely of you and I'm touched. I like it because I know exactly how you feel with writing. There are also your songs. I still can understand and you talk to me through the music you choose. I can see how you are, if it's been a good or maybe difficult day, and I even can sense how you momentarily feel when the song is playing the evening you posted it.
You must know, I'm more proud of you than you will ever be able to understand. You've always been so passionate a boy who goes his way through life with bravery. And, you're so much stronger than you think, stronger than anyone I know. You have no idea just how special you are and what a difference you make.
After we said goodbye for the last time in September, I tried not to think of you again. Well, I should have known I couldn’t stop thinking of you, and so I do. Every single day. I love you. I probably always have. I always will. More than you will ever know.
I haven't been able to look again at what we've written, all those wonderful letters. I could not do so since we parted in August over a year ago, I still can't. I kept them and maybe, one day, I will be strong enough to read them again. They are my precious memories, despite the circumstances in which they have been written. I've learnt my lesson well and I'm still struggling with the outcome and what I did to you. More so, they are a constant reminder of my failures, and nevertheless they are, quite simultaneously, full of love and true inner feelings.
I won't complain, this is what I must live with because I made things that way.
Regardless, all I can think of today is how different my world would be if I hadn’t done so wrong. But then again, accepting something I can't change, however much I wish this would be different (and it is almost killing me that I can't do anything to make amends), is probably the biggest strength one can possess. Accepting what is good and right for the other one is love, too.
With all my love,
U.
Photo: 31 March 2018
******
World Poetry Day!
Video: Warnemuende Beach, 2017
21st March 2018, by U.
Love is...
Love is like the vast sea
So untamable,
So endless,
So uncontrollable,
So mysterious.
Love is...a power,
She carries you along
Like sea waves,
That break all barriers.
Love does not know limitation.
She only can exist
In infinite freedom.
Love cannot walk
A predefined path.
Love is...a force of nature,
so vigorously and strong,
so captivating and graceful.
Love would be like this...
Love is...
Love is like the vast sea
So untamable,
So endless,
So uncontrollable,
So mysterious.
Love is...a power,
She carries you along
Like sea waves,
That break all barriers.
Love does not know limitation.
She only can exist
In infinite freedom.
Love cannot walk
A predefined path.
Love is...a force of nature,
so vigorously and strong,
so captivating and graceful.
Love would be like this...