It was about the german artist Daniel Richter
als wäre er nie gewesen.
Eine Sonnenstelle ist noch warm.
Aber das ist zu wenig.
Alles, was sich erfüllen konnte,
hat sich wie ein fünffingriges Blatt
auf meine dürstende Hand gelegt.
Aber das ist zu wenig.
Es war nie etwas vergebens,
weder Gutes noch Böses.
Alles hat hell gebrannt.
Aber das ist zu wenig.
Das Leben räumt die Steine fort,
beschützte und pflegte mich.
Ich hatte zweifellos Glück.
Aber das ist zu wenig.
Die Blätter wurden nicht versengt,
die Zweige nicht gebogen.
Der Tag ist klargewaschen wie Glas.
Aber das ist zu wenig.
Aus: STALKER (Andrej Tarkowskij)
Edit:
I was looking for a translation to the poem online and even found one,
but i didn't like it so i translated it myself:
The summer is gone.
as if it never happened.
one place is still warm.
But that is not enough.
Everything that could be fulfilled,
like a five-fingered leaf,
folded onto my thirsty palm.
But that is not enough.
Nothing was ever in vain,
neither good nor bad.
everything burnt brightly.
But that is not enough.
Life cleared the hurdles from my path,
protected and cared for me.
I have been lucky, no doubt.
But that is not enough.
The leaves were not seared,
the limbs not broken.
the day washed clear like glass.
But that is not enough.
There are living among(st) two dutiful daughters
Of a man who possesses two beautiful daughters
The most glorious beings in creation;
They'd be the pride and joy of any nation.
You cannot know, nor (yet) try to guess,
The sweet soothingness of their caress.
The outstanding genius of this pair
Is understood by few, they are so rare.
Compared with these two, every man is a fool.
The world is most honoured that they should deign to rule,
And above us these Goddesses reign on high.
I worship the power of these lovely two
With that adoring love known to so few.
'Tis indeed a miracle, one must feel,
That two such heavenly creatures are real.
Both sets of eyes, though different far, hold many mysteries strange.
Impassively they watch the race of man decay and change.
Hatred burning bright in the brown eyes, with enemies for fuel,
Icy scorn glitters in the grey eyes, contemptuous and cruel.
Why are men such fools they will not realize
The wisdom that is hidden behind those strange eyes?
And these wonderful people are you and I.
Pauline Yvonne Parker, 1953. (back of diary)
I just found this blog that is going to publish George Orwell's diary. Each diary entry will be published exactly seventy years after it was written, starting 9th August 2008. I will be reading this for sure
(There were pictures here once, but i removed them later for privace reasons)
In some old magazine or newspaper, I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man - let us call him Wakefield who absented himself for a long time, from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly is not very uncommon, nor without a proper distinction of circumstances to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though far from the most aggravated, is perhaps the strangest instance, on record, of marital delinquency; and, moreover, as remarkable a freak as may be found in the whole list of human oddities.
This is the beginning of a short story called "Wakefield" by Nathaniel Hawthorne. What follows is the authors interpretation, a suggestion on the nature of Wakefields character. Of a man who one morning walked out the door of his house in London, where he lived with his wife, like he did every morning when he went to work. But on this particular morning he went to a flat a street away from his own house and lived there like a hermit for the next 20 years without getting in contact with his wife or family or friends. After that period he went back to his house again one evening as if nothing had happened.
To Hawthorne, Wakefield is a feeble-minded madman who had this crazy idea, but no real concept or plan of what he is doing. I didn't like this interpretation, although it is of course completely legitimate. Still, I always assumed that he was not just a crazy fool, but knew exactly what he was doing and had his reasons for it. And whatever the truth is, I am impressed by the determination of going through with such a (crazy) plan.
Now, one could argue that there's nothing heroic about leaving people behind, but I think that's not what this story is about. This is about something else that is reflected in the final conclusion that Hawthorne comes to at the end of his tale. I like that last part very much and I kept remembering it now and again years after I had read the story:
Amid the seeming confusion of our mysterious world, individuals are so nicely adjusted to a system, and systems to one another, and to a whole, that, by stepping aside for a moment, a man exposes himself to a fearful risk of losing his place forever. Like Wakefield, he may become, as it were, the Outcast of the Universe.
Wakefield choose to become an outcast of the system he was living in. But that system is of course still there and I don't mean just the social, cultural system we live in, but a more primal system of human behavior and communication that governs our lives and to which there is no alternative. Deciding against it would still make one a complete outcast today as much as it did a hundred or a thousand years ago.
Well, that's what i come up with when i try to avoid doing the stuff i'm supposed to do. But enough of that now. If you're interested, the complete story can be found all over the net. One copy is over here.
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I also went to see The Brian Jonestown Massacre tonight. It was the first time i saw them play. They are well known for their rather unusual shows that have often ended in total chaos, band members attacking each other, quiting to play halfway through the set, etc. This evening they seemed a bit tired though, but in a funny mood, joking around a lot and taking long breaks between songs. The atmosphere was good and when they actually DID play songs it was great If you like to know a bit more about their history, i recommend watching DiG!, a documentary about them and the Dandy Warhols. It's a very good film !
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Ok, one last thing: Flux and Elf left the site. I think that Flux was (is) a class of her own. No one else on the site came even close. I'm serious about this. Elf also had a very unique style that will be missed 
