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Expedition Contributions
Joined: 20 Jul 2005 Posts: 47
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Posted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 11:50 am Post subject: Seattle 05 |
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manu Guest
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Posted: Sat May 13, 2006 3:16 pm Post subject: Seattle 6 |
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Seattle 6
We met in the park last Sunday. I was sitting on a bench and the first rays of sunshine fondled my skin, warmed my body. And I remember wind. Blowing through my hair. Cherry blossoms dancing in the wind. To the melody of life. The smell of this special moment attached itself to my memory. It is ridiculous. These moments stay on your mind forever. You remember them without knowing why. Other moments disappear. Melt away. And you cannot bring them back to life. The day my husband died was such a moment in my life. I cannot remember what I actually did that day. All I remember is the shrillness of the telephone. And that I was completely wet. I was under water. I think that I was having a bath when it happened. But I’m not sure. Today, it seems like a dream to me. A dream without the moment of awakening. These are the moments in life when you cannot really tell if you are a butterfly dreaming to be human, or a human dreaming to be a butterfly. There is nothing than confusion. Reality seems to fade into darkness. That’s why I cannot cry. I was unable to cry when my husband died. Butterflies cannot cry. They die when you touch their wings. I need to be touched. But I’m afraid of dying. Perhaps it is the only way to escape the dream. Am I dreaming? Last Sunday, when I was sitting on this bench in the park, I saw children building sandcastles on the playground. I felt the warmth of the sun on my body and smelled the cherry blossoms. It felt like home. Like the taste of my mother’s lasagne. And suddenly I heard this voice: “You look beautiful in the sun. I like the expression in your eyes. I don’t want to be indiscreet, but may I paint you? Would you be my model?” I don’t know why I said ‘yes’ and now I’m in this studio. I like it here. The huge windows allow the light to come in and stay. I stayed, too. Canvas is leaning against every single wall. Pencils in old mustard jars decorate the massive oak tree table in the middle of the room. I can see colors everywhere. Crimson, purple, indigo. The indigo reminds me of the deep blue of the ocean. When I lived in Australia, I often sat in the sand and just watched this blueness. A blues singer on my discman. I have blue eyes. Sometimes everything is just blue. Like pressing your nose against a cold window and afterwards watching the condensation disappear. Like it had never been there. Its birth implies its death. “Please turn your head a little bit to the right. Thank you. And please don’t move. Stay in this position.” Yes I stay. I like the atmosphere in the studio. But I cannot stop moving. Life has to go on – so I have to keep moving. Without movements nothing would change. Ayers Rock is changing colors depending on the time of the day. Even stones change. Why shouldn’t I? Everything forces me to change. Even a traffic light. When it is red I stop. When it is green I go. From one minute to the next everything had changed in my life. The ringing of a telephone changed my life. The slapping of a tiny butterfly’s wing can cause a hurricane. Can I cause a hurricane? “Okay. That’s it. Do you want to have a look?” This is me. I can see myself on the canvas. And a tiny butterfly that landed on it. I am not dreaming. I am awake. Someone has touched me. His name is Stefan. We met in the pak last Sunday. |
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manu Guest
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Posted: Sat May 13, 2006 7:32 pm Post subject: Seattle 5 |
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“Would you please read out a story to me, mummy. I brought my favourite book. Here you are.”
“Okay Timothy. Let’s see...Once upon a time there was a wise king who reigned over a beautiful country and all the people in this country loved him. But the king was very old and he felt that he was going to die. So he...”
“I don’t like that story, mummy. Could you please read out another one?”
“Why don’t you like it, Timothy?”
“Because it’s about reproductive cloning. The nice king dies and they clone him but the new king isn’t as nice as the old one. He is brutal. The people don’t like him anymore and the beautiful country becomes a deserted wasteland. In the end a prince kills the brutal king and everyone is happy again. Come on, mummy, this is not a very realistic story.”
“What would you write about?”
“I would write about a little boy who lives in the forest in a tree house. He doesn’t know what a clock is. He doesn’t know time, either. And of course, he doesn’t go to school. He is very happy because his parents don’t have to work. The whole day long they play with him or read out stories. Stories about his adventures in the forest. He doesn’t have sisters. He’s a single child. One day when he is playing at the river, he finds a message in a bottle. It says that he should come to a secret place, called ‘townhall’ where a secret meeting will be. Just for boys. No girls allowed. He is very afraid but he doesn’t know which direction he should go to find the secret place. The message says that the meeting will take place at eight o’clock in the morning. But the little boy doesn’t understand what it means. He shows the message to his dad and asks him what it means. His dad replies that he once knew what it meant but has forgotten it by now. ‘Must be something like a secret code’, he replies. ‘Do you know where ‘townhall’ is, daddy?’ - ‘No, never heard of it. Do you want to go fishing with me, my son?’ – ‘Oh, yeah. Sounds like an adventure. Let’s go.’”
“That doesn’t sound very reasonable to me, Timothy.”
“Why not? I will show you that this is a very realistic story. Daddy, daddy, do you want to go fishing with me? I’m hungry.”
“You want to have fish for dinner? Sounds good to me. But your sisters don’t eat fish. And the supermarket is closed. It is Sunday, Timothy. Go, tell your mum that we should go home now. I have to get up early tomorrow morning. There’s an important meeting at the townhall pretty early, eight o’clock.” |
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Posted: Sat May 13, 2006 7:57 pm Post subject: Re: Seattle 6 |
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Clarion
Joined: 12 May 2006 Posts: 10 Location: Mainz
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Posted: Sat May 13, 2006 9:34 pm Post subject: A Little Bit of Family Harmony |
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A Little Bit of Family Harmony
I'm happy. I know I am. I am a happy man, I must be. Three wonderful kids, a loving wife, a damn sexy wife actually, even though I haven't seen very much of that lately. Still, things can't stay the same forever, eh? The sex used to be better, of course. And happen more often but that's normal, right? So I'm happy. I really am.
And so what if I'm not as keen to come home at night as I was when we were newly married or when Jonathan was just a little baby and not the nerve- wrecking know-it-all that he is now. Or if my fingers are itching to play some golf right now when I should be enjoying a little bit of family weekend harmony? Playing baseball with my kids maybe but the boy is doing his homework and the girls are no good anyway. Well, you know, no good for playing baseball. They're keen on music and dolls and suchlike, I'm sure. And good at that, of course, very good. Cath even had a musical or something the other day and I remember it was nice, yes, quite nice.
Maybe I should get another beer. It's not a crime to drink on a nice sunny day like this, for heaven's sake, whatever Helen says. Jesus. There's worse men than me, you know. Far worse. Drunk every night, beating up their wives and kids, sleeping around. I've never laid a hand on either of them and I don't sleep around. Never have, you know, just the occasional little flirt and a kiss maybe, and just sometimes a little bit of this and that with a girl, but that hardly counts, does it? Men are just not made to stay with only one woman and at least I've never told Helen. So what's the harm, I'm asking you. Probably saved our marriage, I suspect, and I'm sure she's seen other men. Well, no, not men as in very many men. One maybe. I've never really been sure about Amy, the youngest one, come to that. Never really looked an awful lot like me, if you know what I mean. But hell, I've never mentioned it! What's the big deal? We're happy. I'm happy. Why shouldn't I? This family's all I ever asked for. |
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manu Guest
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Posted: Sat May 13, 2006 10:30 pm Post subject: |
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Hi everybody.
I posted my text "Seattle 6" accidentally under picture 5. I'm sorry about that but I don't know how to delete it. When you go to picture 6 you will find the text in the right position. It starts with "We met in the park last Sunday" |
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Elisabeth
Joined: 12 May 2006 Posts: 5
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Posted: Sun May 14, 2006 6:55 pm Post subject: |
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Finally we’ve done it. Got a whole week-end, just us and the kids… it’s important to spend time with your family – quality time. She’s so good with them, listens to them and takes her time… time, finally I’ve got time. No work all week-end, left it all at home. I’ll have to do it Sunday night after we return, when the kids are in bed and she’s doing the first load of washing. It’s so quiet out here. I said I’d keep my mobile turned off all the time, but I’ve got it right here. If I reach into my pocket, I can touch the silvery metal with my fingers, my hand slips into my pocket every five minutes. It’s on vibration, the boys promised to call me after the game. One single phone call won’t hurt anyone. When they call, I have to tell them how relaxing it is to be in the country, with the lake and the hills and the trees surrounding us… I’ve always loved nature. In my office, I have a huge painting of Grand Canyon over my desk. Everyone entering the room tells me how beautiful it is. And this view here is incredible, too. I always said if I should ever buy a house in the country, it would have to have a great view. Three bedrooms, a large garage and a beautiful view. Thank God we found this place. It’s secluded and far from the noise and the pollution of the city. Not too far of course, imagine there was an emergency… Since we have the kids, it’s all changed. We’re not as carefree as we used to be. She cares good for us, though. It was her idea to come here and slow things down. She always knows what’s best for us. And I love this place. Oh no! A wasp has died in my drink. I’ll need to go inside and pour me a new one... it’s too hot out here anyway. I’ll go and see what’s on TV. |
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Miriam Kuroszczyk
Joined: 21 Mar 2006 Posts: 14
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Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 7:08 pm Post subject: |
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When it’s all like Silence
sunday afternoon. no stress. no worries. no strings attached. body talk.
Tom (observing Alison, muttering to himself): “When we met in college, she had a sense of the aesthetic. Comparable to an orchid. She used to be sophisticated.”
Alison (pretending to check Osirus’s homework; thinking): “What am I doing? Breathing in the ashes of my burned dreams. Postponed after number 1, neglected after number 2, executed after number 3. – Certainly, there’s some things on my list I have achieved: big house, terrace, garden, travelling husband, SUV. Oh, how self-content he’s looking. Elegantly leaning against the railing. It’s quite old. Like his face. His mind. His masculinity.”
(no wind. clear air)
Tom & Alison (meditating silently): “Hell, I wanna – go. Run. Rest. Timshel.”
Tom (closing his eyes to lift the corners of his mouth. Remaining silent): “The li’l Asian from Microsoft could do. Compensation. Reward. – (mouth tensed) Kids – I’ve never wanted. Things happen in life. Arrange. Fit in. Live the American Dream. A daily nightmare! It’s the night that provides for dreams I feel. The soul selects her own society – then – shuts the heart – to her harsh melancholy – present a new start. I’ll see.”
Alison (forehead grim. eyes fixing silence): “Next Thursday there’s this casting Ted told me ‘bout. He is so sweet.” |
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