Perfect fourth/Perfect force.

Apart from this exhilirating concert I was privileged to hear [Which, apparently, you are not - since the video for some reason won't come up. So you'll have to take my word for it: it was hilarious! Both my nephews at our old, totally out-of-tune piano, the younger one messing about while the older one, totally absorbed, plays perfect fourths over and over again, in different places on the piano keys, mindful to correct himself when accidentally hitting a third of fifth...]
I forgot to mention that I have been asked to fill in for my colleague, the music teacher, who has been incapacitated by fickle Fate for a good while. Which means that besides worrying about her health I now also get to worry about all the stuff I get asked to do. You know, small, insignificant, easy-peasy tasks like overseeing/rehearsing/putting together the school musical. Or like taking over as conductor of her church choir. Stuff like that. I am simply thrilled at the prospect. (Mostly, I am thrilled that I have classes at university on School Mass days, or they would have delegated all musical organization/presentation of those to me as well.)

I am not overwhelmed at all.

The fifth element, or: philosophy for run-aways, or: an inventory.

Poppies
...vibrant, full of energy, but fragile to the slightest gust of air.

Barley
...glistening like the back of a giant, green, furry thing, ruffled by the wind. Pretty. Also the stuff that makes my nose run, my eyes water, my throat itch and my lungs block up.

Sun
...warms your skin and defrosts your still hibernating feelings one day, then burns you mercilessly the next.

Wind
...against any kind of stagnation. May bring you the unexpected, or carry away what you thought was yours.

Rain
...what Nature has been crying out for and what, for crying out loud, has leaked through my roof and ruined my walls and laminate, also some books. Not the piano, though, so I guess - all in all - I'm to be grateful. (And it's nowhere near as bad as the incident two years ago, so I'm not panicking at all. I heard they've predicted more thunderstorms for tomorrow? Nice...)

A manuscript!

Just so you know, one day these'll be worth millions! (I think.)

May (or may not).

MAY

(humming)

Don’t know whether to feel big or small.
Don’t know whether to rise or fall.
All this green is far too green,
All those hopes too high -
And if I can’t reach, that’s because
I’m just not that tall!
So...

May rain, make me grow
Up up up!
May rain, don’t show me
Up up up!

Please, let me have this! I used to pray.
Please, I’ll be good now! I’d always say.
Won’t ask for more than this,
Just this, this once, for me -
But questions ask for answers
that may or may not be
What you want...

May rain makes you grow (daddy said)
Up up up.
May rain, don’t show me
Up up up!

(May rain, don’t you let me
down down down.)

Mairegen macht, dass man größer wird...

Wieder ein Jahr um, und wie jedes Jahr macht mich der Mai fürchterlich sentimental. Dieses viele, plötzlich explodierte Grün überall, das einem das Prinzip Leben und Neubeginn wie ein nasses Handtuch um die Ohren klatscht. Da wird mir immer ganz grün um die Nase und vor Augen... Und dann diese Dauerohrwürmer, vom Mai, dem lustigen und vom Grün natürlich und vom Regen (Und ja, die sind bei mir im Kopf mindestens so traumatisch wie ebenjene Links!). Und Borcherts Kuckuck darf im Kopf natürlich auch nicht fehlen. Womit zu dem Thema Mai und Sehnsucht und Hoffnungsglück und Realität wohl genug dezent angedeutet sein dürfte.

...Und das Unterbewusstsein stolperte über einen weiteren Birkenzweig und murmelte "Back to the roots!"

"Marie auf der Wiese, auf der Wiese Marie,
alle Blumen, alle Gräser sind größer als sie.
Mir wird schon ganz bange, da ich nirgends sie seh.
Ich hab sie verloren, verloren im Klee."

(Johannes Trojan)

Pending further notice.

It's just one of those times when life seems unduly cruel and harsh. The pieces of bad news just don't seem to be running out. People suddenly missing in action with horrifying diagnoses. Then today I found out that one of my favourite students, well, one of the first hour anyway, a bright kid with a ton of sad stories on his shoulder, hasn't been ill these last ten days after all, but is in fact skiving off school and refusing to leave the house ever since he had been sent into a children's home before the Easter holidays. All news to me. I mean, I had known and guessed some of the crap that has been going on in his life (father absent, mother psychiatric in-patient...). But he had always been an excellent student with a lot going for him, well, comparatively speaking. And now he just seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Yeah, I know, there are people in charge, and I'm sure they're looking out for him.
At least I sincerely pray so.
And here I was thinking I was lonely and entitled to be just a tad dissatisfied with my lot...

Ausgesetzt auf den Bergen des Herzens.

Ausgesetzt auf den Bergen des Herzens. Siehe, wie klein dort,
siehe: die letzte Ortschaft der Worte, und höher,
aber wie klein auch, noch ein letztes
Gehöft von Gefühl. Erkennst du's?


Ausgesetzt auf den Bergen des Herzens. Steingrund
unter den Händen.


Hier blüht wohl einiges auf; aus stummem Absturz...


blüht ein unwissendes Kraut singend hervor.



Aber der Wissende? Ach, der zu wissen begann
und schweigt nun, ausgesetzt auf den Bergen des Herzens.
Da geht wohl, heilen Bewußtseins,
manches umher, manches gesicherte Bergtier,
wechselt und weilt.


Und der große geborgene Vogel
kreist um der Gipfel reine Verweigerung. - Aber
ungeborgen, hier auf den Bergen des Herzens....