This is just so timely and on=point!~
I am not an expert on Hitler. But my father is.
He toured post-war Germany extensively in 1957 and ’58 as a child performer. And he often recounts the stories. He befriended teenage Lebensborn children (if you don’t know what Lebensborn children are …well …before you post anymore about Hitler you should read about them). He visited an SS widow and got a peek at her husband’s uniform and Luger (that he’d committed suicide with), she had stored in an old trunk, in the attic.
These and other intense experiences in Germany sent my father on a life-long quest to understand this sociopath (Hitler) and the country that allowed itself to be dragged into one of the darkest chapters in world history. My dad is a Hitler/Nazi buff the way Indiana Jones’ dad was a Holy Grail buff.
As the son of a man with this hobby (one might call…
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Small armies of reflective selves dive
to pools of collective swim.
Synchronized and tidy until exhaustion finally wins.
At that fine point, lines are drawn and whose to say chagrin.
Next channel of attack emerges
as the rain beats on the wind.
Well, in the beginning there was a post from 2013, which of course wasn’t really the beginning….and happy to say that neither was it the end, as here I am four years later and it feels miraculous to be here now, beginning my blog in earnest.
So, my first post had to do with how, for an artist, process is journey and journey is everything you ever wanted but were looking out the window while you asked and yes, there was wind in your face. And yes, there was a radio.
There was always a radio and it was always a process, um…journey.
Recalling and relenting, relaxing and inventing…Breathing mind as she relaxes into a kind of sudden humming … then some melody makes its own way toward rare formation…
I used to think that singing was my favorite past time. Oh wait, I still do!~
When the impulse to create drives one, from its purest beginning, there is no need for a fixed image of completion. Process is everything~!