Lobe den Tag

das sollte ich tun              täglich um sechs uhr aufstehen meditieren yoga machen und dann an den schreibtisch nein besser um fünf uhr denn sonst stehen die anderen auf bevor ich sitze bevor ich am schreibtisch sitze ich sollte täglich schreiben meditieren und yoga machen allein die disziplin wird etwas bewirken mehr noch wenn ich dabei freundlich bleibe vor allem zu mir selbst zu anderen auch auch zu anderen sooft wie möglich in den garten fahren allein allein auch über nacht und dort der angst bis auf den grund gehen nicht auf den leim der nachtigall lauschen auf dem grund der angst findet sich eine menge der wahrheit mit der man auftauchen kann zum licht und dann den alltag nicht vergessen putzen wäsche abwasch nicht ungern nicht im widerstand sich verheddern sondern freundlich zu mir selbst zu jeder tasse zu jeder schmutzigen unterhose auch denen der anderen vor allem die...

Before I was born I knew you. It was a bone thing, somehow, rooted so deeply in my existence, that it was me this you, more or less. Between the lines we sat side by side on a cloudy chair and knew each other like soul sister and brother - or more. Who knows? Bevor ich geboren wurde, kannte ich dich. In meinen Knochen atmete eine Gewissheit, so tief verwurzelt in meinem Sein, dass ich es war dieses du, mehr oder weniger zwischen den Zeilen saßen wir Seite an Seite auf einem Wolkensessel und kannten uns besser als Seelenbruder und - schwester - oder mehr. Wer weiß? © Susanne Becker

my real name might just be: i am not here. i am not there. lost in this tiny space, between the words. how courageous, how out of my mind can i really become? i am not here- not even as the storyteller- the stories tell themselves. i am like a fool, hanging my entire life, with words, onto a laundry line, during a very wild storm. scattered throughout a landscape, too huge, to ever consider travelling- like a prairie, with nobody home anymore. © Susanne Becker

spiders grow in my cheeks too deep to breathe and spread their long, their thin legs out of my mouth across my face tenderness definitely all the way to my ears to both sides a golden net quivering in the air I breathe in and out sometimes you have to be real careful you have to be attentive to see them at all tiny spiders wandering all the way down to my heart they are actually not a golden net shimmering in the sunlight I bathe in sometimes you don’t know me this anything about me as if I were a different person two different persons too many different persons to count I am not you nothing to read or write anymore just this heart open wide and its spiderweb © Susanne Becker

It all starts with sleeping late. I can not sleep longer then, say, 9ish or so. I used to be able to sleep until 1 in the afternoon, but that is ancient past and no need to shed a tear about it. Over! Basta! I fear I am entering the phase my grandmother used to call: "I am old, I don't need sleep anymore." And besides the reading glasses I need now that is the second real depressing thing about aging. Well anyways, the perfect day in Berlin old or not is still like this: I wake up at 9ish, I go to the kitchen, I make myself a cup of strong coffee (nobody talks to me, thats mandatory, everything else is, well, less perfect, sorry husband, sorry kids) and a slice of bread with my selfmade strawberry jam or rhabarb jam or something like it and go back to bed. Because the perfect day for me always starts with breakfast in bed. I can stay there for hours and read and write in my journal, get lost in my very deep and profound thoughts and solve the one or other essential ques...

I read books about writing, its techniques, the process, writer's journals, books with prompts or exercises et cetera all the time. Here are nine I read recently or am still reading. Not too bad actually. Barbara Abercrombie, A year of writing dangerously I admit I am just the type who likes books with daily exercises in it, be it for writing, be it meditation, insight, whatever, I like sitting in bed in the mornings with my cup of coffee and reading my prompt for the day and taking out my notebook and get started. Barbara Abercrombie showed me again how important it is to write from your heart and soul and not considering some market or opinion of others Brenda Ueland, If you want to write  to me is a book about integrity and writing. I found it at a time when I was rather unhappy because I felt I didnt have it in me to write successfully. Reading it gave me back the courage to just write and not think about money or success. At some points I found it old-fashioned - which is...

I might not be even even after my death which might just be a metaphor for wanting not but in general death - you can not keep it from approaching you leave your lalaland of fantasies my friend - there might be open bills between strangers there might be secrets between lovers to hide from to run from. Even after my death I will not stop to write. Why should I? How could I cease to breathe out words into this hollow universe where nobody listens. Which is not the point at all! Even after my death I will try to find this one true word and write it down for you to read – find yourself in it. © Susanne Becker

geht in diesem Jahr an Sasa Stanisic. Ich teile hier einen Beitrag von lovegermanbooks  über die entscheidende Lesung der sechs Nominierten, weil meine Freundin Svenja Leiber unter diesen sechs SchriftstellerInnen in der Endrunde war mit ihrem Roman Porträt mit Knochenarm. Ihr Buch  Schippino  ist eines der besten Bücher, die ich je gelesen habe. Ich hätte ihr den Alfred Döblin Preis wirklich gegönnt! Alle anderen Preise übrigens auch!!