I vaguely remember reading that Paul Celan, the Jewish-German poet born in Romania and going through the Shoah, had issues writing in German after the Holocaust. That makes more than sense. Yet, wikipedia claims he said: "There is nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even when he is a … Continue reading Celan and the mother tongue
When leaving Berlin last time, I forgot my laptop charger. I was so extremely focussed on not forgetting to put the laptop into the case and the case into the bag (seems that's sufficient executive function complexity for my travel stressed mind) that I forgot to routine check where the charger is. I don't like … Continue reading Another one on anchors and lighthouses. Losing electronics while traveling and the joys of aspie meltdowns in unknown places.
Let’s say you are Hemingway. You are sitting at your typewriter at sunrise, planning to write a novella about the old man and the sea. Inspiration hits; your fingers dance. As the Spanish sun rises inspiration ebbs; you start yawning (perhaps starting your working day at 4AM was that tad too radical), so you leave … Continue reading Empath tale of the yellow hybrid typewriter