It was there, the street, the trees, the light of passing traffic, the dying sun rays. It was winter, the air was cold. Suddenly it's all gone: the dream is over, the light faded, the rain came. Was it ever real, the long stairway, the high ceiling, the flowers on the balcony, the canal. The … Continue reading Nostalgy
Berlin
Fratres
The avenues are deserted on this clear evening of May. Furtive passers-by appear to avoid each other, all is silent. Inside the spacious auditorium the small orchestra is waiting. The soft light illuminates the stage, the delicate wooden surface of the violins and celli. Soon, rapid steps are heard. The conductor enters, and the musicians … Continue reading Fratres
Moi, Gabrielle, historienne #WritersWednesday
I wrote this back in 2014 as I was working on the beginning of the novel still titled "The Page". This work carried on over the following five years, and should have been completed here in Berlin, but was not. Some 40,000 words later, it lays still, unfinished and unedited. Should I take another look? … Continue reading Moi, Gabrielle, historienne #WritersWednesday
A tale of two cities
A walk in a park, and a reading of Vasily Grossman inspired those lines. There is the city by the wide river, beyond it there is only the immense steppe, to the sea. There was a turning point, they say, a combat of titans. Here, the river is slow and narrow, feeling its way … Continue reading A tale of two cities
The violin
She appears suddenly, soon swept away by the camera, behind the violoncellists. Even at a live concert, he has difficulties in seeing her more than fleetingly. Yet he knows her face, a medieval beauty, inspired, aloof, as if out of a distant past. He basked in the symphonic beauty, Tchaikovsky, Alban Berg, Mahler... She's … Continue reading The violin
Untouchable
I remember the first months in the city, I was puzzled by people wearing black, as if in mourning. Months and years passed. Slowly, I wore darker clothes, without knowing why. Not only during the grey season, all the time. Did I forget Spring would come, clearer skies? Did I ignore the cheerful chorus … Continue reading Untouchable
On the streets #Berlin #January
Still remnants of the past Sylvester and dead Christmas trees litter the streets, grey the walls, sad the dogs, only the crows find cause to rejoice. Sparrows sing, in the cold bushes. The city, lost in a dream, lets the clowns speak, ignores the lies: she's heard many others. Yet Spring will come, and … Continue reading On the streets #Berlin #January
Encounter with an Angel, a pre-Christmas tale
I stood waiting at the traffic lights with a few other humans, and I noticed her immediately: her posture, the recognisable signs of strength and gentleness. There are some very beautiful beings in this city, but this was enough for me to keep my eyes on her, as the traffic roared past us. She … Continue reading Encounter with an Angel, a pre-Christmas tale
Even the crows
It's a time for soft compromise in the dim light, as diffused clouds attempt to swallow the world: even the crows fly skeptical, nothing to see here, bar the blank page. Image: Rabenkräheschwarm, von Frank Liebig - Archiv Frank Liebig, CC BY-SA 3.0 de, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=75539705
Hidden
The little daemons I used to see, at the crossroads, or standing high up on roofs, pretending to be busy, have gone. Or, perhaps, I have stopped noticing them, or they have stopped inviting me to see them. What does it mean? Is it because the city is now used to me, no longer … Continue reading Hidden
Of Glass & Paper 