For years I’ve got this reoccuring question: ›Am I going to be ok?‹
Death changes things irreversibly. Your mind understands, but your heart does not. There is no ›end‹ in love. Time stops and still goes on. How can time go on? How can life go on while we have no breath and remain frozen in this very moment of irreversibility?
Death and life are both part of the same circle I respect so much. I know, but my feeling says I will never ›understand‹. Because even though of course our loved ones are always here in a way, they still are not as they are forever lost for our empty arms.
Ever since the moment my life changed irreversibly I welcome this particular pain about loosing my mother as it reflects my love. There is never only happiness anymore—and I don’t mind. This pinch of everlasting sadness is not a bad thing. It makes me whole, it makes me stronger, more loving, a seeker for a higher and more meaningful intensitiy in art, sensible, caring. It makes me more human, it makes me more me, it makes my emotions deeper—and those of you, who really know me well, know how much I difine my very being on the intensity of my feelings.
But there is a downside of all this. The numbness as a result of the not understanding at all. The numbness as the opposite of the intensity of feeling as we have this great tool of shutting down when it is too much. When we function but don’t live. And when we kind of stop to care.
I am kind of ok. But I am not fine. And I don’t expect to be fine in a close future. I chose this place to put my words out as it provides me with exactly the combination of closeness and anonymity I need just now—as I feel my heart and soul craving for love and to be alone at the same time.
I don’t want you to worry. You really don’t have to. I will be better. I will reach this ›being ok‹ I am thinking about for years. I’ve been thrown back, but I am not fighting for motivation as I was before, which was my most difficult time. (For those who don’t know me well enough: I am not going to harm myself, this is not my nature.) I only want you to know the reason for me being ›off‹, for being ›slow‹ in my work, for being distant or unavailable, and so you understand that a smile does not mean that I am happy. Happy is just a construct at the moment.
I am grateful for the glimses of almost happiness I sometimes feel. For uniting my photo work with the musical work of a band I didn’t expected to ›hit‹ the right nerve exactly at the time I saw them live. For the loud and groovy rhythm and intense instrumental work of another band that was just recommended to me. For the ability to draw even though I taste the numbness in my sketches and wonder when I will reach the point to express what I consider important.
I am not fine as there is this pinch of happiness missing that truely fills me and is strong enough to work as a counterpart to the sadness, frustration, anger, and numbness inside me. But it will come at point. So I will be ok, I still belive I will. So don’t worry about me, there are others who need your worry much more than me.
2015.11.13 in Wilmersdorf, Berlin, Germany
Canon EOS 6D + EF 50mm f1.4