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On a spring day Mar 27, 2020   Thoughts

This might not be the right time for promises. But it feels like this is a time for writing and making and for connecting. This very blog here was originally created as a response to 9/11. Thousands of innocent people had died and it was becoming more and more clear that many more innocent people would die as a result. The mood was horrible. The social media many of us cling on to these days did not really exist yet. Not even Flickr existed.
Okay, blogger existed.
And when everything seemed to have fallen apart and I also got pneumonia. Well, that’s when I really decided that I should write on a regular basis.
And I should write with joy. I should just start observing and describing.
Eventually that activity got me a new job, new friends and a totally new life.
I created my way out of a hole.
And I am still riding that wave, really.
Or at least that’s the legend that has been playing in my head now.

And so now it feels like I should write more again. And this is different and bigger and a bit like an invisible slow motion explosion that could potentially devour a lot of us.

But writing and drawing and creating some path out of this should be the only way forward. And even writing this very sentence feels quite good. And I hope that reading it now or at some point will also feel quite soothing.

This is a different world, of course. And the party has moved to some pretty fancy wild venues. But this here feels more gentle. And even if only two people end up reading this, me and my future self, so be it.

Being playful with language and ideas should be something that is fun with or without an audience. And it is a beautiful day outside and I am really quite happy inside. There is a little flame that I like to return to. It is love in a very pure and innocent form. And no matter what happens, I hope it will never be extinguished. No matter if I am around or not.
So here we go. Little meaningless thoughts. Written down again.
The counterbalance to the pain and trouble that is reality.
Now if only not that person somewhere turned off their chainsaw, this might be a pretty perfect moment right here.


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