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| Germany | |||||||||||||||||||
| 7.05.02 | |||||||||||||||||||
| Green tea in a blue and white porcelain cup.� Thai restaurant in Frankfurt, Paulskirche out the window.� Traveling: the search for new places to sit and read, like the bench in the city square, by the cathedral.� Images to scrape and weld together, pick up enough pieces of things to make a language.� | |||||||||||||||||||
| 7.07.02 | |||||||||||||||||||
| Met my mother and her two friends at the airport.� Along the Romantiscesstrasse, through excessively neat german towns with pleasantly painted half-timbered houses; it seems impossible anyone lives there?they just come once a day to clean.� Wurzburg?saw the Residenz of the bishop princes, all giant stucco and late baroque.� On the street there was a Volksfest parade, marching bands and uniforms, which despite everyone's rosy cheerfulness still struck me as sinister.� So much organization.� I remembered why I hated marching band in school.� At least they are smiling.� And marching, I guess, is better than standing still.� Nicely dressed German words are kicking out all the Romanian phrases left in my mind, making them walk the plank of my tongue.� In the verbal centers of my brain, they start building their nice little German houses. | |||||||||||||||||||
| 7.08.02 | |||||||||||||||||||
| Church belling out the morning in Fussen, the foot of Germany, or the Bavarian Alps, or both.� Balcony of a Gasthous.�Yesterday morning still in Rothenburg, the Weinachts museum for meineMutti, confirming further my impression of everything here being a model, miniatures even when they are life-size, somehow.� Every square foot ordered and planned, under the eye of a megalomania for details: a polite, bright, lovely toy world where even the birds fly only where they should.� Then the Kriminal museum and St. Jacob's Kirche, with a carved wooden altar containing a drop of the blood of Christ. | |||||||||||||||||||
| 7.09.02 | |||||||||||||||||||
| SchlossHohenschwangau and Neuschwanstein, Romantic reconstructions of medieval castles.� Bavarian princes caught in a fairy tale.� Ludwig the second, swan-knights, Wagner, Tristan and Isolde.� Stand on the walking bridge and look down. | |||||||||||||||||||
| 7. 10. 02 (Munich) ����� | |||||||||||||||||||
| Rain on cobblestones, bicycles chained to a guard rail, the creaking courtyard of the Hofbrauhause, Oompah music coming through the window.� My mother and I left in a largely unsuccessful quest for contemporary art: the Pinokotech was closed and another moving from one building to another.� We saw a small exhibition and went back to Marienplatz in time to see the dancing figurines of the Glockenspiel.� At the DacauKonzenstationGedenkenstadt, I saw a picture of the same Rathaus with the Nazi banner unfurled over it, shadowing the dancing figurines. | |||||||||||||||||||