28.3.19

vanilla candle light 

love at first sight 


red velvet walls 

in ancient halls 


gazes do cross 

old stories we toss 


the softest of touch 

i wanna hold you so much 


seeking what’s true 

indescribably blue 


the purest of all 

fearless we fall 


questions were answers 

humans were dancers 


where do we belong 

dance to another song 


lost in being one 

uniting under the sun 

26.3.19

everything we experience 

is recognized by each cell

and stored somewhere,

I’m sure.

 

I am amazed

again and again

at my body’s ability

to REMEMBER.

 

REMEMBER MOVEMENT

REMEMBER SMELL

REMEMBER SOUND

 

trust, that your body

will remember

what it needs to know.

 

THANK YOU body 

For being my archive

my memory

my HOME.

 

music: PERFECT – ED SHEERAN

24.3.19

humans started 

to DANCE with machines

to TALK to machines

to be taken care of by machines.

they got ATTACHED to machines.

this happened:

they got sick because

they LACKED HUMAN BODY CONTACT.

 

are we really at the point,

where INTERACTION with machines

is more fascinating

than with each other?

she asked and realized

how attached she was

to her phone.

 

***

her spirit awakes

words flow

the ego quiets.

all is melting into PRESENCE.

what is flowing through

merely wants to find expression

through someone.

it could be anyone

who is ready to LISTEN and receive?

to sit and wait

until all appears?

 

the sun arose

behind the clouds.

even the hint of light

behind the grey walls

was enough to hope

for another day

to experience

for another day

to be present on earth

for another day.

 

magic is visible, if you want to see it,

she told herself.

and it’s the same with love.

 

***

what is it with me and documenting my life?

is it that melancholia over the time aspect of life?

is it the attempt to face the helplessness considering, how time is racing on, how days are melting into each other, how life is passing so fucking fast?

 

the fear of forgetting and being forgotten.

which is my ego talking. 

23.3.19

funny, that you’re mentioning

COLLABORATION.

 

when I was asked

WHAT IS MISSING?

I answered exactly that.

 

she wrote some more lines, personal ones, but got ashamed and scribbled over them quickly.

‘tells me a lot about myself’, she thought, amused at how her mind was tricking itself and how she had apparently reached the limit of self-censoring. 

 

honestly, Julia, what is missing? 

she knew, but she couldn’t admit.

not in front of HERSELF.

22.3.19

before I set pen to paper, I

(take a moment to)

OBSERVE.

 

which thoughts are present?

which stories want to be told?

what idea wants to work with me today?

 

there hasn’t been a day on which I didn’t find anything to write about.

this is a clear proof of the fact, that inspiration never dies out, we shouldn’t save our creativity ‘for later’, instead 

TRUST, that it is infinite.

 

If I allow it to happen, it will happen.

DOT COM.

Thank you for the soundtrack WDR4 

21.3.19

as the full 

MOON ROSE

in its majesty,

blockages were resolved,

energy resumed its natural flow,

hearts were

CRACKED OPEN,

bonds were made,

connection was felt.

PEOPLE LIFTED

their gazes off their devices 

and finally started to recognize each other,

THEMSELVES IN EACH OTHER.

 

SOCIAL ISOLATION LOST ITS MEANING. 

20.3.19

Spring, Spring,

let me love and sing,

what might you bring

with your uprising?

***

The little girl was actually not a little girl, he noticed. 

Yes, she was little (tiny in fact), but she certainly was older than she looked.

Their eyes locked and he was hooked. 

*** 

I have been coming back to this practice since years. It has different aspects: 

First of all the simple act of putting on music and DANCING, which has always been natural to me (starting with Tina Turner when I was a child, Simply The Best).

Second of all the SHAKING AND BOUNCING of my flesh, it’s so releasing for the fascia! 

Third of all the singing along with the music – expressing MY VOICE and well, it just feels good. 

***

Music: MA CHÉRIE by DJ ANTOINE

 

19.3.19

WHO AM I TO BE SERIOUS?

who am I to know what’s right or wrong?

who am I to think, any of this matters?

 

I’m an extremely serious person.

often people take me more seriously than I do. 

but really who am I to be so serious about life and all?

yes, it’s all SO IMPORTANT.

actually not.

this is just a stage of incarnation, a role I was given, a purpose I’m trying to live.. in the end we’re all leaving and what was so extremely important will vanish.

 

a week ago I couldn’t sleep, because I just had to record that video.

17.3.19

17.3.19

“Hey, look, it’s nice of you to show up now that I’m alone and there is somewhat space for you, but I don’t need you to come back. We’ve had enough time together – remember my puberty?! In retrospective, yes, you’ve taught me a lot about myself, you were a relevant reason why I went on the journey I went on and took certain directions. Thank you for that. Please leave now”, she told the slim, tall figure dressed in gothic style black.

She sighed as she closed the door. When was Mrs Pleasure finally coming over? She had enough of all these shadowed characters knocking on her door.

***

‘If the story we tell ourselves becomes our reality’, she thought as she was putting on some healing music, ‘I should just start telling myself a different story. One which I like.’

***

She had gone there, because she needed some LIGHT. Then that’s what was waiting there for her – unexpectedly, or probably as a result of her intention.

***

You should meditate more often, do more yoga, sing mantras, journal and all that… 

OR maybe you should just FUCKING CALM DOWN for a second and stop trying so hard to do everything correctly.

***

This is the trailer for my solo THE LAMENTATIONS OF MY KIDNEYS, which has been requesting a slow process and still is. However, this is where I am now. Video material from Henrik Kaalund. 

 

16.3.19

feministic performance

=performance, which doesn’t underlie the patriarchal idea of (body) aesthetics. shape of body + movement are not the most important, but the energy and radiance they express.

(thus feministic art isn’t relating to gender necessarily)

still working on the exact wording of this.

15.3.19

15.3.19

it is not to be explained

it is to be understood with your WHOLE BEING in the moment

even the understanding can’t be explained

but when you do understand, you’ll know

it might be gone the next moment

 

trust, that it is there for you TO BE UNDERSTOOD AGAIN + AGAIN. 

14.3.19


14.3.19

WHY do I even do that?

because I LIKE IT.

enough reason?

it should be. 


it is important to me/

i can’t take it too serious.

it matters but actually doesn’t.


I’m so deep in the process of doing, that outcome and reaction become irrelevant. 


consistent practice as the key to progression. 

WHAT ARE THE THINGS I’M DOING EVERY DAY?


inspiration, may you be a partner, not a distant acquaintance. 

it’s a pleasure to work with you, we could be great together. 


learning from my current reading ‘Big Magic’ by Elizabeth Gilbert

13.3.19

I suppose it was the year 2002, when this day was a Wednesday, too.

picture by Henrik Kaalund (rehearsal for THE LAMENTATIONS OF MY KIDNEYS, 24.2.29)

picture by Henrik Kaalund (rehearsal for THE LAMENTATIONS OF MY KIDNEYS, 24.2.29)

A girl from my class had her birthday and because it was a Wednesday, she could have her party on the actual day. 

I remember, because, even though it was so early in spring, we were walking BAREFOOT outside, wearing short sleeves.

My family was still quite new in town and so it was probably one of the first birthday parties there I was invited to. Oh, I was so insecure in that kind of social situation! A feeling, I thought I would lose, once I would be grown-up, but can still relate to to this day.

Today I know, that this insecurity in social situations is also just a PART OF ME and that’s okay. 

(or maybe I just didn’t grow up, but that’s another topic and I know, many people will have jokes about me not growing up right on the tip of their tongues) 

11.3.19

Storm Eberhardt – and it was a bit weird, that a storm was called after her uncle – was powerful.

He blew trash through the streets, made trees fall, traffic signs bend.

Trains got delayed and eventually cancelled.

People were gathered in train stations, aimlessly walking around, not getting where they were supposed to.

The shops in the train station were making more money than on carnival, taxi drivers had the Sunday of their lives.

“All train operations cancelled due to storm low Eberhardt” was all information provided.

She was crying in self-pity when she got home completely frozen after four hours of waiting for trains, getting somewhere, but not in time, getting stuck in the crowded main station, buying a jar of almond butter out of pure frustration (talk about emotional eating habits) and eventually giving up and spending a fortune on a taxi drive home.

‘I should never have tried to get anywhere’, she thought. On the other hand, this was a story to tell. 

 

Yes, this is a very egoistic post of me processing frustration through my writing, art or whatever you wanna call this thing I’m doing. What I’m taking though from this experience is the soothing feeling of COMPASSION with myself – something we should maybe all practice a bit more often.