One raw night of wildcamping in the forests around “die Haard”.
I remember with lucid certainty that several people walked by down the path at night while I was tossing and turning in my tent trying to sleep, but I am also quite sure that they were on the way to a kind of ball-like birthday party in an old ruin lit by fires, so…
I know I know, my obsession with having the sun as an element in my pictures is getting out of hand, but I can’t help it. For now.
on an old graveyard, I found you again
after we lost you in January
the sun on my face, the gravestones shining
names and numbers, years, lived, and ended
love and loss, permeating the air, shimmering
and you in the midst of it all,
the oldest source of my life
In my head, this is the music of a Zelda temple set in a (The Neverending Storyish) dark-blue-green night forest with a Skull Kid playing her flute off in the distance and a whole host of invisible little forest creatures playing all manner of weird instruments; complete with a gigantic Ghibli-esque creature making the “bombom”-sounds.
The story told in the lyrics is quite sinister and something different, so here go the advantages of not understanding a language (well) 🙂
yesterday, like every Tuesday during our visit, when we said we had to leave, you asked me in a small voice if I could not always stay with you and help you.
It breaks my heart, the way you make odd mistakes in your choice of words and grammar, because the language part of your brain that has been working tirelessly for 90 years cannot keep up with the overwhelming strength of your wish to express what you feel. It breaks my heart, the consistency with which you ask if I can stay, although you forget everything else that happens within minutes or even seconds;
but your helplessness has caught up with you anyway.
What a cruel thing, to know, even if subconsciously, that you do not know a lot anymore. To remember that a lot of what you do is forget. To not understand why, but to feel you need help.
I wish I could do more for you, hold onto you and your memories and your deeply kind personality, but in a way, I am as helpless as you are.