A Shout Out

Gut und Schlecht

The pictures in our heads - who puts them up?
Who places them there?
Even our dreams have little notes attached.
We are all nobodies, we are all so much.
We are all fragmented, we all are targets.
And the shine,
in which we cloak ourselves,
leaves us empty, broken and unfulfilled.
We
are all
beautiful and ugly, and torn inside,
and
how
we live slowly shatters our conscience.
We are all good and bad, and our hearts are full of loneliness,
let us be the beginning of the end, of this world, of this time.
No one here is all honest, beautiful, strong or good.
All of our hands are soiled with the blood from all of us.
We are all liars, and we are all loyal.
Sometimes we are brave, but usually we are shy.
We lose ourselves over the years, and nothing appears clear anymore.
That’s why we enjoy to point out the way we used to be.
We are all good and bad, and our hearts are full of bitterness,
let us be the beginning of the end, of this world, of this time.
And all this madness, that brings us down every day.
What we call normal makes us sick and crazy.
Now we stand here, in this misery, there’s no place to run.
Which path is right and who can we still trust?
We breathe in the air of this broken world
but nothing here can stop us because nothing keeps us here.
We are all good and bad, and our hearts are full of ugliness,
let us be the beginning of the end, of this world, of this time.
And humans become humans and humans become humans and humans become humans and
humans become humans...
We are all good and bad, and our hearts are full of loneliness,
let us be the beginning of the end, of this world, of this time.

Früchte des Zorns, "Good and Bad"

Flashbacks

No Way

...or Don't

Nyckelharpa

A Proposition...

Breaking Free

A new life, for myself, I need to weave.
I need some oxygen, so as I can breathe.
From these chains, I need to break free;
I need the chance just to be totally me.

I need to escape now, from this prison cell;
Escape from this existence, I know so well.
Afraid of the world, in my corner, I cower;
I'm just like a bud, that's waiting to flower.

I can't go on like this forever and ever;
The storms in life, I will need to weather.
By your actions, my life has been affected;
I'm just like a child: my life is protected.

Sometimes it feels like I am suffocating.
For the perfect moment, I am still waiting.
You know that one day, I will go away;
Here, forever more, I just cannot stay.

Into my life, I need to let some light.
From this place, I need to take flight.
I need to try and overcome all my fears.
I need to have my own hopes and ideas.

I now need to have my very own space;
I need to live my life at my own pace.
One day, I will be a flower in full bloom,
And that ‘one day' may come very soon.

Angela Wybrow, "Breaking Free"

Warming in the Glacial Age

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

- Walt Whitman, "O Me! O Life"

Punctuality

Man Naturally loves delay,
And to procrastinate;
Business put off from day to day
Is always done too late.

Let every hour be in its place
Firm fixed, nor loosely shift,
And well enjoy the vacant space,
As though a birthday gift.

And when the hour arrives, be there,
Where'er that "there" may be;
Uncleanly hands or ruffled hair
Let no one ever see.

If dinner at "half-past" be placed,
At "half-past" then be dressed.
If at a "quarter-past" make haste
To be down with the rest

Better to be before your time,
Than e're to be behind;
To open the door while strikes the chime,
That shows a punctual mind.

Moral:

Let punctuality and care
Seize every flitting hour,
So shalt thou cull a floweret fair,
E'en from a fading flower

Lewis Carroll, "Punctuality"

Francisco Goya, "Segundo de Mayo" (1808/14)

from Wikipedia

The Second of May 1808 depicts the beginning of the uprising when the Mamelukes of the French Imperial Guard are ordered to charge and subdue the rioting citizens. The crowd sees the Mamelukes as Moors, provoking an angry response. Instead of dispersing, the crowd turned on the charging Mamelukes, resulting in a ferocious melee.

Goya was probably not present during the actual Charge of the Mamelukes. His supposed presence was first suggested in a book published 40 years after his death, reporting on conversations the author claimed to have had with Goya's gardener. His paintings were commissioned in 1814, after the expulsion of Napoleon's army from Spain, by the council governing Spain until the return of Ferdinand VII. He chose to portray the citizens of Madrid as unknown heroes using the crudest of weapons, such as knives, to attack a professional, occupying army. That did not please the king when he returned, so the paintings were not hung publicly until many years (and governments) later.

Goya chose not to paint any single action or to have any single focal point to emphasize the chaos of the drama.