The Kaiserstuhl region in the south of Germany is famous for its beautiful wineyards. It's actually very close to where I grew up. In the last months I've often been there to hike, to take photos and to enjoy the beautiful sunsets. Here's a little photo series that I took this week ✌🏻 #kaiserstuhl#ihringen#visitbawu
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What is this feeling? / This invisible flow of energy / That comes up from the earth, into the soles of my feet / Coming through my stomach, to my chest, then up into my throat / Welling up inside me, making me want to shout out loud / What is this feeling? / Buds bursting out from the tips of tree branches, poking at my heart / It is delight, but also grief / It is agitation, and yet tranquility / It is longing, with hidden anger / Held in check by the dam in my heart / But the the whirlpools, held back, grow fierce / Trying to flood over / What is this feeling? / I want to dip my hand into the sky’s blue / All the people I’ve never met / I want to meet them, I want to talk to them / I wish tomorrow and the day after tomorrow would come all at once / I feel so impatient / I want to walk beyond the horizon / And yet, I want to stay right here on this patch of grass, motionless / I want to call out to someone in a loud voice / And yet, I want to be alone in silence / What is this feeling?
Aunt Cecilia, Lome, 2014. My late Aunt Cecilia was not just easily my most beautiful aunt, she was also the most dignified woman I ever met, a lady who taught me so much about live, about life, about the strength of the human spirit. He life was a constant journey from heartache to heart break, from her very difficult marriage to widowhood, to the sickness and death of first her husband, then her oldest daughter, my cousin, Rose.
She lived a long time, touched many 0eople, and when she died, old and wracked by illness and pain, literally the whole village, flung far and wide in this age of the global citizen, flocked back to the village to celebrate a life well spent.
This image was taken at my brother Leo's wedding. She sat there in the church, resplendent in her Sunday best, a gentle smile on her lovely face. Later, she danced, a huge smile on her face, moving with a vigor that belied her considerable age, the same way she had danced at my wedding a decade ago. When she died, I wrote on my Facebook page that now she was gone, all the plans I had, things I wanted to do in the family, all seemed empty, for no one who mattered was left.