Hello blog. Hello podcast. Hello world. It has been some time. What it boils down to, if I was going to sit in an airplane chair and head west across the Atlantic and confess my soul to the clouds and h20 below, is fear. So quick I excuse to lack of hours, even laziness, but its fear in the challenge. That is out of the way. Moving on. All I can do is create grace to eliminate waste of fluids and solids that are empty and disappeared now.
It all came together when I scribbled words I'd forget on a piece of cardboard. Words coming from an International American living in London passing through Dusseldorf. He said, “there's a lot of interesting and great opportunities out there.” Simple, true, cliché, synthesized in my moment in Dusseldorf in Lindner Hotel Airport situated in a suburb of some sort. I admit I do not now the term for suburb in Germany, “area” perhaps. The International American was a refreshing and familiar character in the movie's second act with technology integration to Europe, the Middle East, and Africa, which (like software) has the acronym EMEA. With the pile of business cards I will never forget him, the words, the Pilsner, and the Heiffiwessien. Palaner, Killepitch. I picture an apartment nestled in London somewhere, an area, where he rushes home to his wife to fix the plumbing we discussed not to mention Obama and McCain which arrived at last call.
Drupa- Mammoth. Take Cobo Hall in Detroit and multiply by 18. At times I did feel like I was at the gathering of the world with the representatives of EMEA, India, Asia, and the Americas. Somehow I am embarrassed and insecure that the entire world speaks English. It is all I know and I can get by. I met so many who spoke 2 – 5 languages. How do the connections in their brain work? Where do verbs and adverbs and connections reside in their tissue? Is it only possible to wire that in your childhood? I learned the valuable lesson of how to communicate with eyes, gestures, and a smile. They can go just as, if not more far, than language. Drupa was business with a mission that I accomplished. I must leave that at that for now.
While walking, taking the tram and the Mercedes taxis I could not help but think and reminisce about WWII. “So this is where it went down.” , I kept thinking. So much so I went back to room 335 and googled “Hitler Dusseldorf”. I kept envisioning the banners and swastikas that must of hang from the modern office buildings and medieval taverns. I begun to realize there is a spirit of a terrible and awful wound that has healed. The evil once there has not vanished but has been realized and understood. Evil has come to terms and humanity moves forward. I think the therapy for all this- the nationalism of it all- is futbol. I applaud the day when the battle is completely decided on the pitch.
The vegetation and lushness of Germany was inspiring and in harmony. Ancient maple(?) trees lined parallel with the dignity and force of statues with the tram running between them. The mood like a small abbey, a cave, rather than a cathedral. Every fence had shrubbery entwined in it so you were constantly forced to see green and nature. The business and shopping areas with neo-modern and classical lines seemed sprinkled throughout Dusseldorf and broken by trees and tall grasses. It was the cleanest city I've seen. The tidiness like Disneyland. A lot of graffiti. I gather to say it was aesthetically based rather than gang related. Something to research.
I notice I did not write like the poet but still think like one. It is even difficult for me to sit here and write for this long. So many feelings and emotions surfaced, so many experiences. Do I only write for memory? These feelings and emotions must be shared. I think I went wrong years ago when I was foolish enough to believe I could produce emotions and feelings on paper for profit and proper economics. While obviously immoral and whack, that is destined to become a job. Then it's over. So here I am back feeling the new international Hogpath with difficulty in expressing and arranging.
I spent quite a bit of time in the old town, Altstadt which was invigorating and exactly how one fantasized and dreams of Europe when they have never been there. The town square with the green statue in the middle square that has survived wars and seen humanity roll out before it. The brick streets. The endless restaurants packed with people out onto the street. I walked the Rhine noticing the quickness of the current, almost seems like it had the possibility of whitecaps. However, the area that inspired me most was the square by the Rhine with the glowing buildings, the lit trees, the couples lined up on the railing looking out. The bustle that has gone on there for hundreds of years. You could feel it.
never forget those church bells that awoke me this morning
and they importance they have for someone in that neighborhood.
i lay there and the air was clean and my breath was easy.
