lost at sea

Manchmal habe ich Angst, dass den Teil von mir, der Deutsche ist, verloren wird.... dass er wie ein Schiff wird, das weiter und weiter segelt, bis man es nicht mehr sehen kann.

Dann denke ich nach, wie verrückt das ist. Dieser Teil kann nicht von mir getrennt werden. Der Teil ist kein Fuß um einfach ab zu nehmen.
Der ist sondern wie eine Farbe, die man überall in einem Gemälde sieht. Wenn die Farbe weg genommen würde, würde das Gemälde zerstört.

Der Teil von mir, der Deutsche ist, wird nie von mir getrennt. Es wird ewig da sein. Ich freue mich darauf.

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The above paragraph (likely full of grammatical errors) is something that struck my thoughts today... I sometimes forget that I am half German.  When I remember, I am startled by the notion that I've forgotten and fear that somehow this part of me will drift away on the sea and I will never find it again.

There have been times in my life when I embraced it fully and times when I hid it from others.  It is not fully who I am, but it is so integrated into my life and memories that in thinking about the course of my life, it cannot be ignored or trivialized.

I wrote this in German because the sentiment seemed to demand it.

love,
Sam

new piece and musings

i finally finished a new piece yesterday evening and here it is! i had picked up a book of rilke poems about three weeks ago and immediately started tabbing pages that seemed to inspire a visual.

this one was forefront in my mind, so here's the piece. i posted the english translation from the book on flickr.

speaking of art, i am trying to start the 12-step creative recovery program called "the artist's way". i say "trying" because the course has daily writings and homework that are about an hour per day and i just haven't made space in my routine yet. (although i have started reading the actual book). it just kept coming up in conversation and i have been feeling a little restless lately, so i hoped it might help me deal with whatever stands between me and a healthy sense of creative contentment and rhythm.

lastly, as the temperatures bob up and down, the highs are getting higher and i can tell spring is trying to arrive. it's been so long since i've lived somewhere with seasons (kindergarten) and there's something so magical about watching buds appear tentatively on long, skeletal branches and seeing rain on the forecast instead of only snow.

sorry for the long break in communication. hope everyone is well!
sam